The Charm Bracelet(78)

Such days in Michigan were magical but numbered, running typically from the Fourth of July until Labor Day.

One hundred days of summer, Arden remembered the locals calling their summer season, which started with Memorial weekend.

The odds of getting a perfect Memorial Day weekend were about as good as winning the lottery.

Arden lifted her face to the sun and suddenly smiled, feeling thankful.

Puffy, white clouds lazily floated about, mirroring the people in the water, the sky an almost unnatural, surreal blue, the sun seeming to smile, the light saturating every detail—the lake, the boats, the sand, the swimsuits, the grass on the dunes—so that it took on an almost magical quality, like when The Wizard of Oz switched from black and white to color. It was nearly too much for her eyes.

“You look … different,” Jake said, jolting Arden from her reverie. “Happy.”

Arden turned to him, as he finished pounding the last post into the sand.

“Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to scare you. Worried about your mother?”

“Yes,” she said. “But I’m actually thinking how beautiful this is.”

Jake smiled, his bearded face opening brightly, his white teeth appearing like pearls in the daylight. He suddenly took off his tank top and dropped his long, khaki shorts to reveal a tight, box-cut swimsuit.

Arden’s jaw dropped.

She couldn’t help but stare at his body. In his scrubs and street clothes, Jake had appeared stocky, but now—bare chested—Arden could see he was pure muscle. His biceps bulged and his shoulder muscles lurched toward the sky like mini-mountains. His chest rippled, and etched into his stomach wasn’t just a six-pack of abdominal muscles, but a full eight-pack. A trail of hair tousled in the lake breeze and led down to a set of thighs like marble pillars. In the sun, with the sand dunes behind him, Jake’s skin was the color of gold.

Jake dropped the mallet into a beach bag and then sank onto a blanket on his knees like a falling pine. He popped open a LaCroix water that Arden had set out for him. With each motion, Arden’s eyes followed him, transfixed.

“Aren’t you going to change?” Jake asked casually.

Arden’s heart jumped, and she looked down to assess her chosen outfit: A long-sleeve black T-shirt, yoga pants, and a Cubs ball cap, her dark glasses sitting atop a nose sporting enough gloopy, white suntan lotion to protect a small town.

She thought back to her days at school in Scoops. Whereas her mother wore wigs and garish makeup, Arden had tried to make herself invisible. Over the years, that look had become her trademark—the blunt bang, the dark glasses, the dull clothes—but she now realized she had been hiding under all of these layers as a way to insulate herself from any pain. She had made herself impenetrable to the tough world of Lolly, the tougher worlds of Chicago and Paparazzi, and the toughest world of them all: single men.

Arden desperately wanted to throw her arms around her body, protect herself, and take off running across the beach. But there was a magnetic quality to Jake, one that could make Arden do anything he asked.

Arden pulled off her black T-shirt and kicked off her yoga pants to reveal a red bikini she had borrowed from Lauren, just like she had the pink top and lip gloss when she’d surprised Jake.

I’ve never felt so naked, physically or emotionally, Arden thought.

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” Arden babbled. “I pulled it out of my daughter’s suitcase … I just thought … I guess I…”

“Sssshhh,” Jake said, putting a big finger over his lips to quiet her. “You look amazing.”

“I spin. I do yoga. I run.”

“It shows,” Jake said, his eyes slowly taking in Arden’s shape. “Do you mind putting some lotion on me?”

Jake stood, pulling Arden to her feet, and handed her a bottle. She was a little nervous, but she squeezed some lotion into her hands and began rubbing it onto Jake’s broad back, across his muscled neck and shoulders, her heart racing.

He feels like steel, Arden thought, feeling butterflies in her stomach.

“Thanks,” he said, giving her a smile that was equal parts innocent and sexy. “Your turn.”

Arden stared at him, suddenly feeling herself flush.

Jake massaged lotion onto her shoulders and neck.

His hands! Can he feel my heart pounding through my skin? I hope not! she worried.

Jake tossed the lotion onto a towel and said, “Let’s go for a swim.”

“No. Too cold. Tried it already with my mom.”

“It’s Lake Michigan,” he said. “It’s always, shall we say, refreshing. You know that.”

Without warning, Jake picked Arden up into his arms and sprinted into Lake Michigan, taking huge, romping steps like a pony. When he was waist deep, he dove headfirst—still holding Arden—into the water.

As Arden sunk, so did her glasses. Under the clear water of Lake Michigan, she watched her signature black frames sink to the bottom, where they came to rest on the sand and a few colorful lake stones. Without them, her vision became wavy, as if she were viewing everything—the sun above, the ripples, her own body—through a prism.

As Arden ascended, she could see her childhood reflected in the ripples. She remembered seeing her mother’s face above the water when she taught her to swim. She pictured her mother waiting on the dock every time she floated on an inner tube.