Every Summer After(43)
I could tell Sam was nervous because he broke eye contact and looked out at the bay. “Yeah, Maeve O’Conor at the end-of-year dance,” he said.
I hated Maeve O’Conor. I wanted to murder Maeve O’Conor.
“Maeve is a pretty name,” I choked out.
His blue eyes met mine again, and he pushed his hair off his face. “It was no big deal.”
* * *
THE CIVIC HOLIDAY loomed large that summer. For the first time, Mom and Dad were leaving me alone at the cottage. It was also the weekend I’d chosen to swim across the lake again. My parents didn’t want to miss my now-annual feat of athleticism, but they were headed to a party in Prince Edward County, where a dean at the university had purchased a farm to turn it into a small winery. It was a must-attend event and almost all they could talk about until they waved goodbye early Saturday morning.
The air was sticky, promising a rain that probably wouldn’t fall if the first half of summer was any indication. The grass around the Floreks’ house had long ago turned brown, but Sue was determined to keep the flower beds in shape. She went into the restaurant earlier than usual to make extra batches of pierogies for the long weekend crowds, and Sam, Charlie, and I were tasked with watering all the gardens in the baking heat before we left for our shifts.
Like most evenings, we took the Banana Boat to the town dock and walked to the restaurant. I wore my usual—a dark denim skirt and a sleeveless blouse—and I was slick with sweat by the time we got there. I splashed my face with cold water in the bathroom and redid my ponytail, smoothing down the strands that had frizzed in the humidity, then applied a little mascara and pink lip gloss, the sum total of my makeup routine.
The tables were full from the moment we opened the doors, and by the time the last customers had been served, Sue was exhausted. Julien told her she looked like shit and forced her out the door while the rest of us closed up.
“I feel like I’ve been boiling in pierogi water all night,” I told Charlie and Sam when I was done, joining them outside the back door, where they always waited for me, sitting with their backs against the wall, once they had finished in the kitchen. I handed them their tip-outs.
“I’ve been standing over pierogi water all night,” Charlie said, standing to tuck the money in his pocket and pulling on his shirt to show me how damp it was. “You’ve got nothing to complain about. I’m jumping in the lake when we get home.”
He wasn’t joking. As soon as we tied up the boat, he jumped onto the dock, unbuttoned his shorts, and peeled off his shirt. Sue had left the porch light on, but it was dark at the water, the moon casting enough of a pale glow that I could just make out Charlie’s bare ass when he pulled down his briefs and jumped into the lake.
“Shit, Charlie,” Sam said when his head bobbed back up. “Give us some warning.”
“Just doing Percy a favor,” he laughed. “You kids coming in?” I’d skinny-dipped on hot-hot nights when I couldn’t fall asleep but never when anyone else was around. I smelled like cabbage and sausage, and my clothes were plastered to my body. A swim sounded amazing.
“I am,” I said, unbuttoning my blouse, ignoring the knots in my stomach. “Turn around while I get undressed.” I dropped my shirt on the dock. Charlie swam out farther, and I checked behind me, finding Sam staring at me in my white cotton bra.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, then turned away, pulling off his own T-shirt.
I stepped out of my skirt, slid off my underwear, unfastened my bra, and then dove into the water. Sam jumped in seconds later, a flash of white limbs. We kept our distance from each other, but I paddled away further still and turned onto my back, spreading my arms and legs, floating under the open sky. My feet tingled with relief. The water swirled around me, and my eyes grew heavy. Eventually someone splashed me, and Charlie said, “I think it’s time to get Percy to bed.”
He ran up to the house in his underwear and came back with towels, and Sam walked me home through the path.
“Ready for the swim tomorrow?” he asked when we got to the bottom of the steps.
I hummed in response. “You might have to give me a wake-up call.” I said good night, climbed the stairs up to the cottage, and sprawled out naked on my bed.
* * *
THE SOUND OF knocking woke me suddenly. I glanced at the clock: 8:01 a.m.
“A phone call would have been fine,” I grumbled after I threw on a cotton robe and trudged downstairs to open the door. Sam gave me a guilty half grin, and I motioned for him to come in.
“Thought an in-person alarm would be more effective. You seemed really tired last night.” He shrugged. He was wearing a bathing suit and a hoodie. His light brown hair fell over his face in a tumble.
“You know, for such an anal guy, your hair is extremely messy.” I glowered.
“Someone’s grumpy this morning,” he said, slipping off his sneakers.
“I just woke up, and I’ve really got to pee.” I walked to the bathroom. “There are Cheerios in the cupboard and bagels in the bread drawer if you haven’t eaten yet.”
The phone started ringing mid-pee. “You mind getting that?” I yelled to Sam. “It’s probably Mom or Dad.”
When I came out, he held the receiver in my direction.