One Golden Summer(75)

I commit it all to film, and every so often, I find Charlie looking at me with a smile as lethal and magnificent as the sun.

We travel to the southern end of the lake to the narrow mouth of the river, and when we pass a couple on a Jet Ski, he presses the horn.

Aaaah-whoooo-gaaaaah!

Bennett cracks up, a gasping-for-breath laugh that has Heather smiling at her daughter with wonder. I can almost hear what’s running through her mind—that if her kid can laugh like that, she’s doing okay.

I make my way to the back of the boat and sit behind Charlie. We don’t talk; I just want to be close to him.

“How do the Everly women feel about grabbing a bite?” Charlie asks when we approach the Bent Anchor.

“Pro,” says Heather.

“Alice?” He looks at me over his shoulder.

“I didn’t bring my wallet.”

His gaze dances around my face. I missed that naughty grin. “Then I guess you’ll owe me.”

I take photos of everything. Charlie escorting Nan to the patio, her arm in his. The oversized pours of white wine. The basket of fries and platter of nachos. Charlie listening to Nan describe what Heather and I were like as children. Charlie looking at me. I shoot until Heather confiscates my camera and passes it to him for safekeeping.

Bennett and I sit on the end of the restaurant’s dock when we’re done, waiting as Charlie pays the bill. We’re not saying much of anything, just kicking our toes in the water, watching a group of teenagers jump into the river from the nearby bridge. She leans her head on my shoulder, and I wrap my arm around her. I hear the click of my camera.

Bennett and I both turn around. Charlie is holding my Pentax up to his eye.

“You won’t want to forget this,” he says. “Smile.”

But I’m already smiling. I let Charlie take my picture.

“Bennett, come here for a sec,” Heather calls from the boat, and my niece pops to her feet.

“One more,” Charlie says, crouching beside me. He turns the camera around, an old-fashioned selfie.

“Really?” I ask him.

“Really.”

We’re still looking at each other when he presses the shutter.



* * *





Once everyone is piled in to the boat, Charlie steers us toward the bridge. There’s a line of kids waiting to jump.

“Let’s do that another time,” I say to Charlie.

“Why not now?” he asks.

“Well, this I’ve got to see,” Heather says.

Charlie drops the anchor, and we swim to shore, climbing our way up to the bridge and taking our place in line behind two tan girls who are probably eighteen or nineteen.

“You guys go first,” they tell us. “We’ve never jumped before.”

“Me neither,” I say, giving Charlie a nudge.

He shrugs and climbs over the railing to the top of a concrete pillar. I hear one of the girls asking her friend whether she thinks he’s too old for her.

And then Charlie turns around so he’s facing me, winks, and then springs backward off the platform, flipping in the air before slicing into the lake.

“Whoa,” I hear the girl say.

I climb over the railing, and before I jump, I look at her over my shoulder and say, “Sorry, that one’s mine.”





39




“Okay, tell me everything.” Heather stares at me as she takes a sip of her martini. “And I’ll smell it if you hold out on me.”

I knew this was coming. That’s why I suggested we sit out on the screened porch, even though Nan and Bennett have already gone to bed. It’s also why I’m drinking a strong cocktail from an old-fashioned juice tumbler—the cottage has fifteen mismatched mugs but not a martini glass in sight.

I take a sip and cough. “This tastes like hellfire.”

“Stop delaying.” Heather pulls her legs up, facing me with them crossed beneath her. I do the same. We’re wearing similar pajamas, except mine are blue and hers are pink. It feels like we’re kids again, sharing a bedroom, though back then, it was Heather describing her latest crush.

“Umm…” I don’t know where to begin.

“Fine,” she says. “I’ll tell you what I like about him.” She holds up a finger. “One, he threw himself into the middle of three generations of Everly women like a champion. He got Bennett to talk to him at lunch, and he carried Nan like the precious cargo she is.” A second finger rises. “Two, it takes balls to hang up on Dad and me the way he did last month. I respect that. And three, he kept his shirt on.”

I sigh, remembering how on the boat ride back, Charlie cut the motor in the middle of the lake so we could jump off. Heather went first, and I followed. Bennett was hesitant, so Charlie offered to jump with her. They stood on the end of the boat, both in their T-shirts, and cannonballed into the water. Charlie rarely wears a shirt on dry land, let alone in the water.

Heather clears her throat. “And four, well, look at him. The way that shirt stuck to his abs. Give me another martini, and I might fight you for him.”

I laugh.

“And five…”

“Wow, this is a long list.”

She gives me a meaningful look. “He adores you.”