She was with two guests Wes remembered from his years at the lake. That meant she was here to see Eby and it had nothing to do with him or the letter. That should have made him feel better, but it only made him more restless.
“Now that is a fine-looking woman,” the older man sitting beside him at the counter said, having followed Wes’s gaze out the large front window.
“She’s a little young for you, don’t you think?” Wes asked.
“Not the mother. The redhead,” he said, watching Selma open the back car door and wait for the child to climb in first. Selma hesitated, as if knowing she was being watched. She smiled slightly, then ducked into the car, lifting her skirt high as she pulled her bare legs in last, giving them a show. “I’ve always had a thing for redheads.”
“Has Deloris changed her hair color?” Wes asked the man.
“No, she’s still a brunette,” he said, taking one last bite of the slice of ham-and-pineapple pizza in front of him. He wiped his mouth on a greasy paper napkin, then tossed it onto the counter. “I’ll be at the Water Park Hotel with Deloris and the girls for a few days. The lawyer is coming this weekend with the paperwork. I’m glad to be doing business with you, son. We’re going to do great things with that property.” He held out his hand.
Wes stared at the man’s puffy hand for a moment before he said, “We’ll shake on it when Eby sells.”
He smiled. “Fair enough.”
As his uncle walked away, Wes called, “Maybe we can all get together some time, you and me and Deloris and the girls. It would be nice to catch up.”
“Right, right,” Lazlo said without looking back. “We’ll see what happens.”
Wes watched as his uncle walked outside, batting at the air around his head as if an invisible plague of insects had just descended upon him. Once in his Mercedes parked at the curb, he took a handkerchief out of his trouser pocket and patted his unnaturally smooth face and neck with it.
Across the street, the Subaru was now gone.
“You’re making a deal with the devil.” An old man with a grizzly beard stuck his head out of the kitchen. It was Grady, the cook. He was sure to have been listening all this time. Everyone in the small restaurant, which was still decorated in early eighties pizza-chic from its previous incarnation as a pizzeria arcade, had been listening, leaning forward in their seats, speaking in hushed tones, their ears turning like owls’ heads. This was bound to reach Eby soon.
“I know,” Wes said, gathering his and Lazlo’s plates and napkins from the window counter before one of the waitresses could do it. “But there’s no reason for me to hang on to that land if Eby sells. My property is in the middle of her lake property. The only way it’s worth anything is in connection to hers.”
“I still can’t believe she’s selling,” Grady said, shaking his head. “That place is an institution.”
“Eby has helped a lot of people in this town over the years. If she wants to leave, if that’s what she really wants to do, we should support her. Lost Lake isn’t making money anymore.”
“We should have supported her a long time ago, if it’s come to this.” Grady squinted his tiny brown marble eyes. “Can you imagine what Lost Lake will look like when it’s developed? When your uncle built the water park and outlet mall, it completely changed the landscape north of the interstate. You’ll keep him from doing too much damage this time, won’t you?”
“Change is good, Grady.” Wes handed him the plates.
The front door opened, and a young woman with a blond ponytail entered. “Well, it’s official,” Brittany announced dramatically. “I just heard it from her niece. Eby is selling Lost Lake.”
“We know,” Grady said. “We just heard, too. Wes is selling his property to the same developer.”
“I’m depressed,” Britt said, taking a seat at a nearby table. “I’ll never have another boy take me out there. I’m never going to get married at this rate. Wes, let’s make a pact. If we’re not married by the time we’re thirty, let’s marry each other.”
Wes laughed. Britt always flirted with him between boyfriends. For some reason, she seemed to consider him an odd sort of backup plan. Probably because he was nearby, one of only a few people their age who didn’t go to work at the water park or outlet mall or who hadn’t left town altogether. “I’m going to reach thirty long before you do.”
“I’ll be ready.”
“Stop waiting, Britt. Go out there and get what you want.”
“That’s what I’m doing! I just asked you to marry me.”
“I’m not what you really want,” Wes said, patting her shoulder as he walked by her to the door that led to his garage below the restaurant. “I’ll be out at Lost Lake if anyone needs me.”
As he left, he heard Britt say, “I need cheese. Eby’s having a farewell party on Saturday at the lake. I think I’ll go, and kiss my youth good-bye.”
“You say she’s having a farewell party?” Grady asked. “Now that’s a good idea. I’ll whip up some chicken wings to bring.”
* * *
Wes turned off the highway onto the gravel road leading to Lost Lake a little too quickly, and gravel spit out from behind his wheels. He felt he couldn’t get there fast enough. He needed to explain what was going on before anyone else had a chance to tell Eby. He owed her that.
He wanted her to know that all this, everything that was happening, started and ended with her. Lazlo was family, sure. And that blood connection meant something to Wes. More than it should, considering his uncle had never really been around when Wes was growing up. But Eby and, by extension, the lake were everything good about his childhood. Wes and his brother, Billy, used to come here every day, walking from their cabin in the woods. When Wes’s mother left, his father had seethed with resentment, hating his circumstances and everyone who had done him wrong, until that was all he thought about. Inside he was no longer human, just churning flames. He turned to alcohol and then, almost inevitably, violence. Eby was the one who mended Wes’s and Billy’s clothes and gave them breakfast before school and threw them birthday parties, inviting their classmates to the lake. Lisette served pistachio and rose water ice cream and cakes made of dark chocolate.
After the fire, after he lost his brother and father, Wes moved away from the family property, and then there had been Daphne, his foster mother, who had been everything good about his teenage years.
If not for those two old women, Wes was sure he would be either dead, drunk, or incarcerated by now.
He and Eby still kept in touch. He’d see her sometimes in town. Every once in a while she’d stop by the restaurant to have a slice and catch up. But this was the first time in years that he’d been out here. As the lake came into view, he saw that the place had aged dramatically and seemed to have grown smaller. Everything felt precarious, as if one good rainstorm would wash it away.
He parked at the main house and went directly inside, finding Eby at the front desk. She had her back to him, reaching for a cabin key on the wall of hooks. Curiously, she had dust on the back of her head and on the backside of her clothing, as if she’d been lying on a rug that hadn’t been vacuumed in a while.
His throat thickened as he watched her. She’d always been a thin woman, but she seemed so fragile to him now, as reedy and brittle as dried grass. It had almost killed him to lose his foster mother four years ago. He didn’t want to lose Eby too. He knew the end of Lost Lake didn’t mean the end of Eby, but he was still going to miss her, miss knowing where to find her. He should have checked in more. He should have come out here before now. If he had, he would have seen how much repair work the place needed, and he would have fixed it. There’s a point where anything can be saved. The trick is knowing when. And he had missed it.
But if this was what Eby had decided on, then it was the right decision. Eby didn’t make bad choices. Everyone knew that. There wasn’t a person in town who hadn’t found him- or herself driving out to the lake because life had become too crowded
or too noisy, their marriage was a wreck, or they hated their boss. And they always sought out Eby. They would sit in the dining room and have coffee and snack on something Lisette was experimenting with in the kitchen—lemon curd or yogurt sorbet or corn soup. It hadn’t been unusual to see Eby walking the wooded trail around the lake with someone from town, heads together, deep in conversation. There was even a cabin at Lost Lake, number 2, where harried mothers would come to stay for a night of blissful silence, no questions asked. Eby had a reputation for fixing things. If people really wanted to change, she knew what to do. She would jump off a bridge after you if she thought she could help.
Somewhere along the way, though, they’d forgotten how much they’d needed her. They should have told her sooner. Wes should have told her sooner.
Key in hand, Eby turned and saw him standing there. “Wesley! Hello! I’m just … um, going through the cabins, doing inventory.” She paused, looking at him curiously. “What are you doing here?”
“Lazlo wants my land too,” Wes said quickly, just to get it all out. “I’ll be investing in this development. It just happened, just today. And I wanted to tell you first. Lazlo’s never had any interest in my land until now. And I haven’t done anything yet. I’m waiting for your deal with him to go through first, just in case you decide not to sell.”
Eby smiled at his outburst. “That’s sweet of you, Wesley. But you don’t have to wait. I’m not going to change my mind.”
“Lazlo doesn’t think you will.”
Eby searched his face. “But you do?”
“I want you to do whatever makes you happy, Eby.”
“And I want the same for you,” she said, walking around the desk. She drew him into a fierce hug. He held her lightly, afraid he might break her. She pulled back and saw his hands were covered in dust from her clothes. “The cabins haven’t been cleaned in a while,” she said as she brushed his hands. “Now, are you sure you want to give up your family land?”
“Nothing but bad memories and a burned-out cabin there,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ll be glad to get rid of it.”
“What about your good memories?” she said, putting her cool hand to his cheek.
“All my good memories are here.” He looked away, embarrassed.
At that moment, the door opened and he stepped back to keep from getting hit by it. From behind the door, he watched Kate and her daughter enter in a blast of chatter, filling the air with the scent of shampoo and sunblock and raspberries and onions. Kate was carrying the large open cardboard box full of groceries from the Fresh Mart. He was surprised that he’d gotten here before them.
“Kate!” Eby said, surprised. “What are you doing? What is this?”
“Lisette asked me to pick up some groceries for her,” Kate said, shifting the box in her arms. “We would have been here sooner, but we had to go back because Selma forgot to buy hand lotion.”
“Lisette asked you to pick this up? I thought Jack had taken her. So she’s been here the whole time? That imp! She’s probably been tiptoeing around so I wouldn’t hear her,” Eby said, turning on her heel and striding to the dining room, where she was soon heard banging on the kitchen door, demanding that Lisette unlock it.
“Here, let me take that,” Wes said, stepping out from the other side of the door. “It looks heavy.”
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.