Feels Like Summertime(17)

I kick the bottle with my foot, slightly annoyed that the kid just tossed it in like that. It’s like ruining all the perfection, displacing some of the magic of the lake, when you get it dirty.

But then I see a slash of white within the bottle. I pick it up and turn it over, and see the piece of paper within the empty container. I screw off the cap and pull the paper from the bottle.



Dear God,

Please send my dad back so he can help us.

Love,

Alex





Well, shit.

The sense of peace I’d enjoyed a minute ago is now gone.





16





Katie





“Eat your eggs,” I say to Trixie. Getting her to eat anything healthy is like pulling teeth, and pretty much just as painful. She likes peanut butter and jelly and not much else.

“I don’t like eggs.” She props her elbow on the table and rests the side of her face against the flat of her palm. While she blinks down at the food she doesn’t want, Sally slobbers a big puddle of drool right beside her chair. He licks his lips.

“Alex, do you want milk or juice? Gabby?”

“Milk,” says Alex around a mouthful of bacon.

Gabby slaps him gently on the arm. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.” She pours out some milk for Alex. “Juice for me, please.”

I turn away to get some juice and turn back to find that Trixie’s plate is now completely empty. “I do like eggs after all,” she chirps. She holds out her palm, and Sally gives her his paw like he’s giving her a high five.

“That dog has to go back to Jake today,” I mutter.

“Why can’t Sally stay?” Trixie asks.

“Because he’s Jake’s dog.” I sound like a whiny brat myself. I was up all night with an unborn kid sitting on my bladder.

“But he likes me,” she says as she feeds him a bite of egg off my plate. I actually got the dog some dog food when I got up early this morning and went to the store, but the dog won’t touch it. And why should he when– A loud knock sounds on the door. Gabby jumps up quick as a flash and gathers the children and the dog, and they go into the bedroom.

My heart thunders in my chest. “Who is it?” I call through the door.

“It’s Jake,” he calls back.

I let out the breath I was holding and force myself to relax. Then I open the door and step to the side so Jake can come in as Gabby brings the kids back into the kitchen. She’s carrying Trixie, who suddenly won’t look up from where her head is pressed beneath Gabby’s chin.

I wish my kids weren’t so fearful. Hell, I wish I wasn’t so fearful.

“Is everything okay?” Jake asks, looking closely at my kids.

“Yes. We’re fine. What’s up?”

Jake fidgets. “I wanted to talk to you really quickly.”

“Okay…” I say slowly. “About anything in particular?”

He jams his hands into his pockets. “Can you take a walk with me?”

I turn off the burners on the stove. “Can you watch the kids for a minute?” I ask Gabby. She waves a hand at me, dismissing me totally. Teenagers.

“What do you need, Jake?” I ask, as I step carefully down the porch steps. He turns and takes my hand as I waddle. “Is your dad all right?”

“He’s as mean as ever.”

Jakes fingers linger in mine well after I’m down the steps, and my heart trips a quick little beat.





17





Katie





I can remember very well the second time I ever held hands with Jake Jacobson. He kissed me that night when we fell into the lake, but it was an awful kiss. It was all tongue and slobber and it really wasn’t anything I wanted to remember. I certainly didn’t go home and write about it in my journal.

We were at a camp cookout. Mr. Jacobson held them every Saturday night. He said it was an excuse to burn a hamburger, but really it was his attempt to bring all the people in the area together. The magic of being at the lake wasn’t in the solitude. It was in the community. It was in finding other kids your age, or getting to meet interesting adults, or the missionaries that came on Sundays to deliver the church messages. The magic was in the community.

So every Saturday night, Mr. Jacobson would cook burgers on the grill and everyone else would bring a dish to share. My dad and Uncle Adam brought key lime pie that Uncle Adam made from scratch. It was so much better than the icebox pies that my dad bought. But you had to eat it quickly or it would melt. For that reason, we left it in our tiny freezer until it was time to eat dessert.

Dad sent me back to the cabin to get it while he finished his burger. “Run and get the pie,” he said. “I think everyone is almost done.” He looked around. Uncle Adam was across the table from him, because when we were out in a crowd like this, they were my dad and my Uncle Adam, and not my two dads. It’s how it was back then. They had to be much more careful to conceal their love for one another than they are now.

I ran back to the cabin and got the pie from the freezer, only stopping briefly to let the cold air cool my face. When I ran back to the picnic area, I stopped short. Jake was sitting with my dad and Uncle Adam. He looked back over his shoulder at me and smiled. “Hey,” he said.