It was fall in the woods behind Grandma's house. It wasn't really Grandma's -- she died in '98 -- but the new owner didn't mind. My childhood was there; the tractor, Mom's old garden, the swing, and my own private spot. It was perfect for reading or sunning, and the stream was great for skinnydipping. With a nod to the landowner I headed up the path. It wasn't until I was standing at the edge of the clearing that I realized that it was occupied. I didn't know the skinnydipper until he looked up at me. I stopped dead. "Hi," he said. "I didn't know you came here." "I've been coming here since we were kids, Carl." My stomach clenched. I wanted to leave. No, I wanted him to leave. Instead I began stripping. He wasn't going to spoil my swim. After Grandma died Mom and Aunt Jen, Carl's mother, fought over the inheritance. I tried to stay out of it, but then Mom asked me to tend Grandma's yard for her. Not to be outdone, Jen asked Carl to help. We were friendly enough, and agreed to split the yard down the middle. Everything went well until the weekend before the sale. Going to rake the first fall leaves brought a shock. The leaves from Carl's side were in a big pile -- on my side. I never spoke to Carl again. It wasn't hard -- we rarely met before: I made sure that we never met again. And now here he was -- skinnydipping in my stream. "How have you been?" he asked politely as I undressed. I forced myself to be at ease. At the shore, the water swirling at my feet looked cold, and my skin went hard in anticipation. To my surprise, though, it was still warm from the hot summer. "OK," I answered, wading out. The stream was ten feet wide, with high banks and a sandy bottom. "How's the kids?" "Just fine. I would have brought them, but they wanted to go shopping with their mother." He was too comfortable, I thought. I wanted to make him remember my pain -- and I wanted to just be friends again. "It's been a long time since the yard." I regretted it immediately. "I'm really sorry about that," he said. Yeah, right, I thought. "Yeah." He paused. "That was the first time I ever yelled at Mom, the day she did that." My heart stopped. "Your mother did that?" I spun to look at him. His gray eyes registered surprise. "You didn't know?" "Carl! I ... I'm sorry! I thought ... I thought you did it!" "No!" A smile brightened his face. "I was sick that weekend, and asked Mom to rake for me. I drove past the place on the way to the doctor, and was livid at her for what she did. I chewed her out royal for it. I tried to tell you, but you wouldn't return my calls. After a while, I stopped trying." "I'm so sorry! All this time, I thought ..." "No, that wasn't me. It was Mom." We stood there a while, silent. Underwater, leaves and twigs brushed my legs, and overhead the trees let in bright afternoon light. Birds sang, and a breeze sent a chill up my back. "Well, I have to be going," he said, getting out. "Take care, and give a call. Maybe we'll have dinner." He stepped up the bank and headed for the path, pausing to gather his clothes. "Sure!" I called. "Maybe we'll even come up here for some 'dipping." He again smiled. "Great! I'll bring the family. It's about time the kids got to know my cousin." The branched swished as he disappeared into the gloom of the forest. I stood there in the water, thinking of years gone by. As I watched, a leaf drifted down and lighted silently in the water just upstream from me. As it floated by, I plucked it out and studied it. For no real reason, I stepped to the bank and carefully set it on the ground. Then I plunged into the water, laughing, savoring the day.