“I don’t want to hear it.” She stormed out of the kitchen before I could finish.
I stood there, gripping my glass of lemonade tighter than I should, staring into the space my sister had been standing. I did this every time I came home for a visit. I always seemed to make her angry. It wasn’t as if I set out to botch every visit home; it just happened that way.
Emma was right. It wasn’t my place to decide when Mom should be sent to one of the nursing homes in town. She was here with her all the time. Emma would know better than anyone when that time came, when she couldn’t handle it anymore. My lips needed to be glued together during the remainder of my stay. It was the only way to keep something like this from happening again. Either that, or else I needed to learn to think before I spoke, which was easier said than done.
The sound of my sister’s muffled sobs sounded from the hall bathroom. I’d made her cry. The desire to apologize to her swept through me, but I knew my sister. She wouldn’t be able to hear my words for what they were right now. The argument would only head into round two if I followed after her.
With a sigh, I set my glass on the counter and sneaked out the back door, needing to be anywhere but here right now.
THE SUN WAS SETTING when I stepped outside, making it feel later than it was. Its low positioning in the sky had already cooled the temperature of the air. My skin was clammy and hot as tears slipped from my eyes. This was supposed to be a good trip home. I was here because Emma was getting married, not to fight with her about where our mother should live.
“What the heck is wrong with me?” I whispered to the sky, swiping away the tears that had finally fallen free.
Inhaling a deep breath, I vowed not to mention another thing regarding Mom’s care to Emma while I was here. This was her special time. She’d said yes to someone she loved, someone she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. That was what I should be focusing on. I only hoped the person knew about our mother’s state and was supportive. Emma deserved someone to be her rock, because I sucked at it.
The sound of splashing startled me, forcing me to take in my surroundings. I was standing at the lake. My breath left my chest in one big, long sigh. I hadn’t been here in ages. It was no surprise my feet had brought me here though. This used to be my favorite place to think.
The splashing made its way to my ears once more. Someone was swimming. I winced at the thought. The water had to be ice cold. Whoever it was, they were crazy. Everyone knew you never swam in the lake until well into June, especially this time of night. Around two in the afternoon, the water might reach the right temperature this early in the year, but it was never warm enough for night swimming until late June.
I started across the dock, curious to see who had decided to take a dip in the chilly waters. The weathered wooden boards creaked beneath my feet as I scanned the lake’s surface. I paused when I noticed a family of ducks making their way out of the water. They’d startled me, but also brought a smile to my face. The noises I had heard must have been them. I watched the mom wrangle her little fluffy flock and shoo them into the cattails nearby. Before long they were out of sight, and I was still standing there, staring after them, hoping for another peek. I missed nature.
Bradley University didn’t have anything by way of wildlife, unless you counted the primal ways of frat boys. The ducks had been soothing to see. Even though I always said this dinky town sucked, deep down there were things about Parish Cove I loved. This lake was one of them.
I slipped off my sandals and moved to sit at the edge of the dock, hanging my legs over the edge. Slowly, I dipped my toes into the water, careful not to get my jeans wet. Chills ran through me, causing goose bumps to prickle up my legs and across my skin. The water was freezing. I took comfort in knowing some things never changed.
Water splashing a few feet away caught my attention. I glanced around, looking to see if the ducks had decided to take another evening swim. A muscular, bare back glistening in the sunset captured my attention instead. Dark hair. Tan skin. Strong, confident strokes. I knew who it was even before he even turned his head to the side for more air.
Dawson Phillips.
I couldn’t believe he still took evening swims in the cold ass water of the lake regardless of how cool it was outside. Yeah, some things never changed. I leaned back against the palms of my hands, feeling the rough wood of the dock steady me, and crossed my ankles. My mind flashed back to all the previous times I had sat in this spot, watching him swim laps. Sometimes I would imagine him becoming an Olympic swimmer, and traveling the world with me by his side. God, I had wanted to be with him.
The splashing of the water stopped. I blinked and realized he’d spotted me, staring at him like the teenybopper I used to be. My heart picked up pace as I wondered what I should say that wouldn’t embarrass me any more than I already was.
“Hey,” I called out, because what more could I say? My voice wavered from having been caught staring. I cleared my throat, hoping it would sound even when I spoke again. Jesus, I was fifteen and tongue tied by him all over again.
Dawson’s lips twisted upward as he continued to tread water. “Hey, yourself.”
I couldn’t breathe as a strong sense of deja vu hit me. The last time we’d been in this exact situation came rushing back. It was the night before Dawson was leaving for college. I’d come to the lake for a nighttime swim in the hopes I would see him here one last time. I desperately wanted him to stay, but I also wanted him to be happy. The scholarship he’d gotten for baseball had made him happy. So, I let him go. Even if he technically wasn’t mine to release. Dawson was destined for greatness. I knew this even at fifteen, and I didn’t believe anyone could find greatness in Parish Cove.
The conversation between us had happened just the same. In fact, I’d dreamed about his ‘Hey, yourself’ and sexy smile for months afterward. The entire night had been imprinted into my head and etched into the contours of my soul, because that was the night Dawson had given me what I always wanted from him most—my first kiss.
He knew I’d had a crush on him for forever. It was no secret. Everyone knew. I followed him around like a lost puppy. We’d sat on the dock that night, lost in conversation. I listened with my head propped up by my hand, soaking up his every word as though my life depended on it. Fear of the unknown was what he talked about. How he’d always thought about leaving Parish Cove and creating his own path in the world, but now that the time had come, he wasn’t sure he could go through with it. I’d admired him and felt nervous for him. I’d also foolishly asked him to stay. The smirk I loved had twisted his lips as he asked me why. I’d told him he could wait until I graduated, and then we could face the unknown together. Sometimes I could still hear his laugh, if I focused on the memory hard enough.
It was a sweet laugh, gentle. He wasn’t making fun of me, but had found my words humorous. The conversation took a different turn then. We moved down a road filled with relationship talk. He’d mentioned I was too young for him and said that maybe if I were older things would be different. I’d hated those words. My frown must have done something to him, because to my surprise, he’d kissed me. A simple, sweet brush of his lips against mine. It had been a bittersweet goodbye I would remember forever.
“You gonna stare at me all night or come out here and join me?” His deep voice pulled me back from the memory of our lips touching for the first time and to the present. I was shocked again at how different his voice sounded from the teenage one I remembered.
“I don’t have a suit,” I called out.
“Never stopped you before.”