Cate made a sudden turn off the paved road onto a dirt trail, then came to a stop at the foot of a rickety log bridge at the edge of the marsh.  This was the spot.  The spot where she and Ryan were to have met.  The spot where he had once kissed her.  She gingerly walked across the hap hazard bridge and came to stand on the soft, mushy edge of a small fishing pond surrounded by skunk cabbage, ferns, and cattails.  The murky pond surface was littered with green lily pads with white, cup-shaped flowers in full bloom.  Moving along the water’s edge, she called back to Michael, “he’s not here.”

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