Every Summer After(38)
“I should go; we’ll be late back to Delilah’s.”
Mason didn’t protest, just ran his hands up my back and gave me another quick kiss, then took my hand in his.
Next to my embroidered bracelet, the silver one looked garish, and I took it off before Mom picked me up the next morning so she wouldn’t ask questions. Delilah was surprised by the gift, which she called “excessive,” but she didn’t think it meant that Mason wanted to make things more official.
“Of course he likes you, Percy. You’re a catch. And your tits have really come in this year,” she said in a stage whisper. “Keep things light with Mason. I can tell you don’t like him the way you like your Summer Boy, but maybe you can just think of it as practice if Sam ever comes around.”
I emailed Sam as soon I got home.
Hi Sam,
I’ve been thinking about my new story more. What do you think about a lake that’s haunted by a young girl who fell through the ice in the winter, leaving her twin sister behind? When the sister is a teenager, she comes back to the lake on a camping trip and she sees a strange figure in the woods, which will turn out to be her dead twin who’s trying to kill her so she won’t be alone. It could be scary and maybe a little sad. Thoughts?
Also: Delilah and I went to Mason’s birthday party last night, and he asked me to be his girlfriend. I know you won’t be surprised since you guessed that at New Year’s, but I was. What do you think I should do?
Percy
Percy,
I still think a lake full of zombie fish is the way to go. Just kidding. Creepy dead girl is definitely the best idea yet. Are you going to give the sisters obnoxious twin names, like Lilah and Layla, or Jessica and Bessica?
I asked you this before, but I think it’s time to ask again: Do you like Buckley?
Sam
Sam,
Why hadn’t I thought of Jessica and Bessica before? Genius!!!
Mason’s actually a nice guy, but I like someone else more.
Percy
Percy,
I think you have your answer.
Sam
9
Now
We sit in the truck staring at THE Floreks’ house. Or at least I stare at the house. Sam is watching me.
“It looks amazing,” I say. And it does. The lawns are green and mowed, the flower beds are blooming and tidy, and the siding and trim on the house are freshly painted. The basketball net still hangs on the garage. There are terra-cotta pots of happy red geraniums on the porch—Sam probably planted them himself. The thought makes me squishy.
“Thanks,” Sam says. “I’ve been trying to keep it up. Mom would hate to see her gardens taken over by weeds.” He pauses, then adds, “But it’s also been a good distraction from everything.”
“How have you been managing all this on top of the restaurant and work?” I ask, turning to face him and waving my hand at the house. “It’s a huge property for one person to maintain.” God, how did Sue do it? And raise two kids and run the Tavern?
Sam runs a hand over his smooth cheek. Shaving only made his cheekbones more prominent, his jaw more angled. “I guess I don’t sleep much,” he says. “Don’t look so horrified. I got used to staying up for long stretches when I was a resident. Anyway, I’m grateful I’ve had something to do. I would have gone crazy sitting around the past year.”
Guilt curls around my heart. I hate that he did this alone. Without me.
“Does Charlie help much?”
“Nah. He offered to come back, but he’s busy in Toronto.” I cock my head, not following. “He works in finance, on Bay Street,” Sam explains. “He was up for a big promotion—I told him to stay in the city.”
“I had no idea,” I murmur. “I guess his boss has better luck getting him to wear a shirt than your mom did.”
Sam chuckles. “Pretty sure he wears a suit and everything.”
I clear my throat and ask the question I’ve been wondering all morning, “And Taylor? She lives in Kingston?”
“Yeah, her firm is there. She’s not exactly a Barry’s Bay girl.”
“Didn’t notice,” I mutter, looking out the window. I can see Sam smile from the corner of my eye before he gets out of the truck and walks around to my side. Opening the door, he offers me a hand to hop down.
“I know how to get out of a truck, you know?” I say, taking his hand anyway.
“Well, you’ve been gone a long time, city slicker.” He grins while I get out. He’s got one arm on the door of the truck and the other on the side, caging me with his body. His face turns serious. “Charlie should be home later,” he says, eyeing me closely. “He went into the restaurant this morning to help Julien with a few last-minute things for tomorrow.”
“It’ll be great to see him again,” I say with a smile, but my mouth has gone dry. “And Julien. He’s still there, huh?” Julien Chen was the long-suffering chef at the Tavern. He was terse and funny and kind of like a big brother to Sam and Charlie.
“Julien’s still there. He’s been a big help to me and Mom. He took her to chemo when I had shifts at the hospital, and when she was in there for the last few months, he stayed with her almost as much as I did. He’s taking it pretty hard.”