Kate yelped and almost dropped the cardboard box. Wes reached out and grabbed it.
The little girl laughed. “He scared you!”
“Yes, yes, “Kate said, embarrassed. “Very funny.”
“You should have seen your face!”
“I’ll just take this to Lisette,” Wes said.
“Thanks,” Kate said, and he watched her brow knit, studying him. Now that he was closer, he could see that she was paler than he remembered, like she didn’t spend a lot of time in the sun anymore. Some freckles he hadn’t known were there were visible along her nose. She saw something familiar about him, but it didn’t click. It was for the best. He turned away and heard her say to her daughter, “Scoot, you. Let’s help Bulahdeen with her bottles.”
They left, taking with them that chattering breeze, leaving the house in still silence. Eby had stopped knocking, and there was something in the air in those few moments before Lisette opened the door to the kitchen and Eby said, “You’re not sixteen anymore.” And Bulahdeen came in with several bottles of wine and said, “Wes! I haven’t seen you in years! You need to come to our party!”
Something that had felt almost like hope.
“What is that god-awful noise?” Selma asked as the guests began to congregate on the lawn for dinner. Earlier, everyone had retreated to their cabins during the hottest part of the afternoon, but now they were emerging like nocturnal animals from their cool caves, their noses to the air, in search of sustenance.
Kate, who was standing by Eby and shucking corn to be placed on the grill with the hot dogs, suddenly became aware of a steady pounding echoing over the water. She looked to the van that was still parked in front of the main house, a white van with HANDYMAN PIZZA written on the side and a logo of a smiling burly man wearing a tool belt and twirling pizza dough in the air.
Eby was either having some handyman work done or having a lot of pizza delivered.
“Wes decided to fix some warped boards on the dock while he was here,” Eby explained. “He said some of them looked too dangerous to walk on. I told him he didn’t have to. There’s no need to spruce this place up, now that I’m selling.” She said this regretfully, and Kate was beginning to wonder if Eby was truly on board with selling. Kate had looked for Eby earlier, thinking she would help Eby with the inventory that seemed to be weighing so heavily on her mind. But Eby had been nowhere to be found, almost like she was purposely avoiding it. And as gung ho as Bulahdeen was with this farewell party, Eby wasn’t participating in the planning and was saying as little about it as possible.
“Maybe he’s doing it for the party,” Bulahdeen said from her seat at a picnic table. Devin was sitting beside her. Jack had quietly joined them and was showing Devin a coin trick. “I invited him.”
“Did you?” Selma asked, walking by. “Maybe I’ll come after all, now that men are going to be there. Do you dance, Jack?” She trailed her fingertips along his shoulders as she passed.
“No,” he said, slipping out from under her hand.
Kate asked Eby, “Are you talking about the man who was in the house earlier today? The one in the yellow shirt?”
“Yes.”
“He looked familiar,” Kate said.
That made Eby laugh. “He should. The two of you were as thick as thieves that summer you were here.”
That made Kate jerk her head around, her eyes going to the dock. “That’s him?”
“You know, Wes asked me for your address after you and your family left. I think he missed you.” Eby took the ear of corn out of Kate’s hands. “Why don’t you go ask him if he wants to stay for dinner.”
Kate nodded and wiped her palms on the sides of her dress. Did that seem too eager? She walked across the lawn to the dock. He was about halfway down, on his knees, hammering nails into a new pale board. He hadn’t fixed just some of the boards. He’d replaced nearly all of them.
A memory hit her suddenly. The last time she’d seen him was right here. They’d been sitting on the end of the dock with their feet in the water. Something had been changing between them, something that only the passage of time had made clear. From almost the very beginning, she’d known Wes had liked her, liked her in that way boys like girls. She hadn’t really minded, as long as it hadn’t interfered with their adventures. But slowly, as the days had passed, she’d begun to feel something like a summer fever coming over her, a sickness. It had emanated from somewhere near her trembling belly and had evaporated hotly from her skin whenever he was near. Sitting there on the dock that afternoon, Wes had shifted slightly and his bare leg had accidentally touched hers. It had taken her breath. What is this? she remembered thinking, almost panicked. What has changed? She’d tried to keep it from him, this affliction, because she’d wanted things to stay as they were. She’d been having so much fun. Completely oblivious, Wes had turned to her to ask a question, but then he’d stopped, looking at her curiously as she’d held her breath and stared at him, at the glints of red in his hair, at the scar above his right eyebrow, at his eyelashes, so light they were almost blond.
He’d known then. He’d seen the change, that this strange sickness had taken her too. And he’d looked so relieved, like the way he’d looked the first time he’d set eyes on her, reading on the dock. It was as if, finally, he could share all that he’d been keeping inside. Finally, someone understood.
His eyes had gone to her lips. What does that mean, she’d thought. What is he going to do? Why has all the air left my lungs?
He’d slowly leaned his head in toward hers.
And that’s when her mother had called her from the lawn, startling them both and making them jump away from each other. Kate had gotten up and told him she’d be right back. She hadn’t known at the time that her mother had packed all of their things and that they were leaving.
She’d never seen that boy again.
He was a big man now, broad shouldered and long limbed. She smiled, thinking of how fast he’d been growing that summer when they were twelve. He’d been gangly with arms and legs that seemed to stretch second by second, as if he were made of putty.
“Excuse me,” Kate said as she approached. He didn’t hear her. “Excuse me!” she said, louder. No response.
She stopped a few feet away from him.
“Wes!” she yelled.
He finally stopped and craned his neck around to look at her with blue eyes that were so achingly familiar, now that she felt something unknotting in her chest. It really was him. His hair was a russet shade, like an autumn leaf, and it was stuck to his forehead with sweat. His color was high, with vivid pink slashes of exertion on his cheeks. His presence was just so vital, so centered. She wasn’t expecting that. She remembered him being the Sancho Panza to her Don Quixote that summer. He’d gone along with everything she’d wanted to do. He’d happily let her take the lead and stayed in her shadow.
He smiled when he saw her, then he put down his hammer. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”
He stared at her, brows raised, until she realized he was waiting for her to speak. “Oh,” she finally said. “Eby wants to know if you’d like to join us for dinner.”
“Sorry, I can’t. Not tonight. I didn’t know it had gotten so late.” He lifted his face to the sky. The setting sun in the distance resembled a bright orange ember, as if a candle had just been blown out. “What time is it?”
Kate took her phone out of her pocket. She turned it on to see the time, and as soon as she did, she saw all the missed texts and voice mails from Cricket. There were dozens of them. She was going to have to call her back soon.