Cal _ didn’t give me more than a weekend to process the news about the lake house before he texted me early Monday morning asking to meet me at the Early Bird Diner for lunch. For both our sakes, I decided to comply.
Since Mondays aren’t bad enough, my entire morning before our work lunch is a complete and utter disaster. Normally my job as a Spanish teacher at Cami’s school follows a predictable routine. But naturally, given my luck today, everything went wrong, from a broken fire alarm interrupting my tenth graders’ final presentations to a first grader vomiting in the back of my classroom right before lunch. The only thing motivating me to survive today is the fact that I only have two weeks left before summer vacation.
I was already late when I got to the restaurant, so parking is
full. I circle Main Street twice to find a spot without success. The city is starting to advertise the mid-June Strawberry Festival, Lake Wisteria’s biggest event of the year, so most of the parking spaces are occupied by the mayor and his aides hanging promotional signs to attract tourists.
It takes me five minutes to find a parking spot. It’s fitting, with how bad my day has been, that I would find one right next to my failed dream.
The store has been empty for years, the owner unable to permanently fill the space for more than a few years at a time. Business after business has tried to achieve this, but they have never been successful. A bakery even opened here once, which was a whole new level of torture given my dream of opening my own store in space. They closed not even a year later.
What makes you think you would be successful then?
A lump forms in my throat and I turn my back on the window. You have bigger problems to deal with right now. I hold my head high as I walk towards the restaurant. “Hey,” Cal calls, surprising me.
I turn towards the direction of his voice. She leans against the brick wall outside the main entrance, looking completely out of place in her perfectly pressed white linen shirt and tailored pants. Her outfit reminds me of the other rich tourists who visit, looking like they belong sailing in Ibiza rather than our lake.
He slides his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose so he can see me better. “Nice dress. Did your mom make it?”
The mention of my mother makes my throat close. Pain is a strange thing. It comes and goes, usually at the most inconvenient time, turning our lives upside down as we process the loss once again.
I instinctively reach for the gold necklace he gave me for my quinceañera, rubbing the cold metal between my fingers back and forth. “Yeah.” My voice breaks.
“How is your mom by the way? I didn’t see her car at the house. Is she visiting your family in Colombia for the summer or something?
My heart pounds against my ribcage as I stop mid-step. “You really don’t know.”
His head tilts. “I do not know what?”
My gaze is directed towards the entrance of the restaurant. “She passed away a couple of years ago when your grandfather was still in a coma. Stage four pancreatic cancer. I’m surprised he can get the words out without my voice breaking.
It only took you two years to get there.
For the first year after my mother passed away, it was difficult to talk about her without crying. Every memory felt painful, both physically and mentally. Cami asked me a lot of questions about her grandmother so that I would get used to talking about her again with a smile instead of tears.
“Shit, Alana. I had no idea about your mother. Cal places her hand against my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. The warmth of her palm works like a balm, warding off the cold that seeps into my bones.
“I thought you knew.” And he chose not to show up to his funeral anyway.
His head shakes hard enough to ruffle his hair. “Of course, I didn’t. If she had done it, damn. I forbade my brothers to mention… this place.”
My breathing becomes increasingly difficult with each inhalation.
“Very sorry.” Her grip tightens. “I wish…” She pauses, as if she is considering whether she should speak or not. “I should have been there for you.” The way she says it with absolute certainty makes me believe her.
Our looks connect. Something unspoken passes between us before he wraps his arms around me and snuggles me against his chest. My body instantly relaxes in her grasp, and a feeling of righteousness consumes me. Any anger, frustration, and anguish from the past few days fades away as if it never existed in the first place.
I know the relief is only temporary. That the moment I let go, reality will collapse around me.
Just a few more seconds , I promise myself as I press my cheek against his chest. I forgot how good it felt to be in her arms. Or the comfort that overwhelms me as I listen to the beat of her heart, pumping rapidly in her chest.
I ignore the voice in the back of my head that nags me and allow myself to enjoy being taken care of.
Why do things that make us feel better always hurt us more?
“And your sister?” She runs her hand through my hair, making my spine shiver at the intimate gesture.
“What about her?”
“Is she…” His voice trails off.
“Dead? God no, although sometimes I go to bed worried that she might be.
“But Cami-”
I don’t let him finish his train of thought. “It’s mine in every way that counts. “Anto signed the paperwork and made it official shortly after his birth.”
His grip tightens, as if he senses me preparing to walk away. “You never cease to amaze me.”
I bury my face in his chest. “I had no choice.”
“Of course you do. You were just the most selfless because that’s the kind of person you are.” He breaks any control I have left over my emotions as he holds me in his arms.
A car honks nearby. His grip slips as he jumps back, ending the hug. My cheeks flood with color as I take a second step away from him.
His hands fall to his side before forming fists. Frustration pours out of him in waves, hitting me in the face with the power of a blowtorch.
“Let’s go inside.” I turn towards the entrance.
Cal follows me silently as we enter the restaurant.
“Look who finally decided to stop by.” Isabelle grabs two menus from the hostess stand.
Cal’s cheeks turn pink. “It’s good to see you again, Isa—” Isabelle completely ignores him as she hugs me. Her graying hair brushes my cheek, giving me another inhale of hairspray and pancake batter. “I missed you last week when the girls came to lunch.”
“Cami caught a bug, so I had to jump.” “Oh, no. How is she?”
“Better and back at school. “He didn’t want to miss any more days before summer vacation.”
Isabelle’s eyebrows knit together. “But it’s only the second week of May.” “Every day matters according to Cami.”
She laughs. “That girl loves school more than anyone else she knows.”
Cal clears his throat and Isabelle looks at him. “Who is this?” She takes a look at him.
Cal’s eyebrows lift toward his hairline. “Come on, Isabelle. You’ve known me since he was a little boy.
“Oh.” She strains her eyes. “What’s your name? Again? Wrong?” “ Cal .” He smiles widely even though her right eye twitches.
Some people look up from their tables. The whispers spread throughout the restaurant, making my skin blush. Isabelle saves me from further embarrassment as she leads us to a table in the corner away from the geriatricians gossiping on the other side of the restaurant. They may be far away, but that doesn’t stop them from looking at us and whispering behind their menus.
“Could you all be more obvious?” called
Beth, the leader of the bridge club, looks like her head could break from how fast she spins in her seat.
“Say the word and we’ll throw him out for you,” offers Cindy, the current shuffleboard champion and Cami’s former pre-K teacher.
I give him a thumbs up.
Isabelle pulls out her notepad before reaching for the pen behind her ear. “What can I start drinking with?”
“Chocolate shake,” Cal and I say at the same time.
“I’m glad to see some things haven’t changed.” Her smile comes rushing back, and I look away to avoid fighting the temporary blindness.
Isabelle scribbles on her notepad. “Two chocolate shakes are coming soon. Does she know what she wants to order, or would you like me to come back in a few minutes?
“Will you give us another couple of minutes?” Cal asks.
“No problem, Ale.” She gives me a squeeze on the shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen.
“She hates me, doesn’t she?”
I only offer a noncommittal shrug. “Because?” he asks.
Because you broke my heart.
Silence once again settles over our table as we both pretend to evaluate the menus in front of us. I’ve been visiting Early Bird Diner since I was a kid, so I can recite the whole thing from front to back without looking. There was a time when Cal could do the same, although that doesn’t seem to be the case anymore.
My heart clenches at the reminder.
Cal shifts restlessly in his seat for a full minute before finding the courage to speak again. “Do you already know what you’re going to order?” “I’m fine with a smoothie.” I slam my menu shut.
“I thought you’d at least order the most expensive thing on the menu just to spite me.” “If I wanted to mess with you, I’d look for something a little better than your wallet.” “How when?”
“A kick to the balls is always a good starting point.”
His head falls back as he laughs. The sound is abundant and loud, drawing everyone’s attention to our table. Even I find myself staring at him. I blame Cal’s ability to attract everyone as if he were the center of our solar system. Because if Cal is the sun, then the rest of us are aimless planets orbiting it, tragically trapped in its orbit.
Isabelle must sense my desperation when she interrupts us with our milkshakes and taking Cal’s order.
I join my hands in front of me. “Let’s get to the real reason you asked for this meeting.”
Play with your hands. “We need to sell the place by the end of the summer.”
My heart rate quickens at the mere thought. “But I don’t want to sell it.” “Do you have the money to buy me half?” The way you ask the question without a hint of condescension makes me wonder if you really think I can do it.
A metallic taste fills my mouth as I bite my tongue. “No, but if you give me a year or two, I’m sure I could figure it out.”
His head shakes. “I don’t have that kind of time.” “What’s the rush?”
Swallow. “I need to move on with my life, and I can’t do that if I have this house hanging over my head like a ghost of summers past.”
My chest feels like it’s going to split in half at his words. “So you just expect me to start mine instead?”
“I know it’s not ideal, but I hope the money makes up for it at least partially. For what that place is probably worth, you could buy a new house and open a decent savings account.”
“And you worry about it because…”
His gaze cuts mine. “I want the best for you, and no amount of time or distance will change that.”
I make a noise in the back of my throat because I don’t trust My voice. Her words have the unique power to thaw some of the ice around my heart. Bits and pieces of ice break, melting at the way he looks at me like I might still mean something to him.
If you had, he would have sobered up and come back to fight for you.
He taps his fingers on the table in a meaningless pattern. I’m not asking you to move tomorrow. You can spend one last summer there with Cami before we close on the house.
“How thoughtful of you.” “Do we have a deal then?”
“Stop making it sound like I really have a choice,” I launch. She raises her hands in front of him. “I’m not here to cause trouble.”
Except you ‘re the problem, Cal. Always has been and always will be.” “At least I’m consistent about something.” He dares to smile.
My nails dig into my thighs. “Have you changed in the last six years?”
“Of course.” She lifts her chin.
But you keep drinking. And using God knows what else.
There’s no point pretending Cal doesn’t have a problem. I already did it once, and in the end it only caused me distress. It took me a long time to realize that loving someone didn’t mean accepting them for all their faults, but calling them out on their problems because you care enough to not want them to suffer.
I was too young when Cal and I first met to understand that concept.
“Contrary to popular belief, my addiction does not make up for my entire personality, although my siblings and the media like to make it seem that way.” She keeps her voice light despite the tension in her jaw.
“I know that.” Which is exactly why having a front row seat for him to spiral was so much more painful. He knew that the person he was while he was on opiates and alcohol did not compare to the man he knew he could be.
He sighs. “I don’t expect us to pick up where we left off given our past and the fact that you’re in a relationship.”
In a relationship? That…
Before I can ask, he continues, “But I hope we can at least be civil to each other.”
“Why bother? It’s not like you plan on staying for long.” I keep my face expressionless despite the pang of pain over my heart.
“About it…”
No.
“Since I plan to be very involved in the sale of the house from start to finish, and all the rentals around the lake are already booked from May to September, I will have to stay in the house until it sells.”
Motherfucker. “No.”
You can’t keep me out of my own house.
My fingers itch to wrap around his neck. “What’s wrong with the motel?”
“Do you want the short or long list? Choose wisely because we could be here all day.”
Take a deep breath, Alana. “You can’t seriously expect us to live together.” He shakes her head hard enough to make some of her hair fall in front of her eyes. “Of course not. I plan to stay in the guest house. That way, I can have access to the main house when I need it while still giving you privacy.”
In theory, Cal’s idea isn’t terrible. The guest house is located at the rear of the property with its own private entrance to the main road. I could easily pretend Cal isn’t there, as long as we’re not at the lake.
You can’t be seriously considering this.
What choice do I have? Kal is right. I can’t keep him out of the house as a co-owner, and his idea of staying in the guest house is much better than asking to live in the main house.
“Why do you need access to the house?”
“Because I need to pack up all the things my family left behind, including that special little collection you mentioned in the attic.”
I almost feel bad for him. The attic is a hoarder’s dream, filled to the brim with things Brady collected over decades. It would take anyone at least two weeks to go through all those belongings.
But if you pack it all, then you won’t have to.
The deal is tempting. I never had the willpower to even try, so I might as well take advantage of Cal being here to free up some space and clean up the last mess left by the Kanes. Then, I can erase any memory of the Kanes and make the house completely mine.
With the plan I’ve put in place, it might as well be. Even if Cal owns half, he will never sell at the price I have in mind.
I lift my chin. “Fine. But I don’t want you inside the house unless I’m there.
“Why? So you can keep an eye on me?”
My eyes narrow. Like I would ever trust you with my stuff. “Probably the best thing after that incident with your vibrator.” She shows me a knowing smile.
My cheeks burn, the heat quickly spreading to the rest of my face.
You prepared yourself for that.
I slide out of the cabin.
“Already on the run? “Things were starting to get interesting.” Her bright smile is full of promise.
“Bye bye.”
“ Are you sure you want to go? I didn’t even get to mention the moment I found those h…
I slap my hand over his mouth. Cal’s speech comes out muffled as he looks at me with wide eyes.
I lean in and whisper, “Let’s get one thing straight now. Whatever happens, we don’t talk about what happened the last summer you were here. I’m not sure I’ll survive him being here if we do.
His eyes narrow.
I press harder against his mouth. “Do you understand?”
He bites the soft skin of my palm, and I fight a full-body shudder as I release him.
“Not talking about it doesn’t change what we did.”
“I’m not trying to change it. I’m trying to forget it . He pulled me away with an extra wiggle of my hips, earning a soft moan from the man behind me.
Cal: 0. Alana: 1.
