8
I’ve spent a lot of the last few days out here by the lake. Just watching the water, thinking. Wishing for what could have been. Knowing that it’s too late now, too impossible a task to surmount. Josh thinks we can make this work somehow, but he doesn’t know my dad. Doesn’t know how long it took Dad to find real happiness, lasting happiness. There’s no way I can take that from him. Not after everything Dad sacrificed for me, raising me all on his own, giving me every advantage in life.
Two days before we’re supposed to leave, Dad finds me like that. Perched on the end of the dock, legs hanging over the side, staring out at the water. He takes the seat beside me in silence for a while, glass of lemonade in hand. For a moment, I just pretend that nothing has changed. That it’s still that summer 6 years ago when we first came here, and I didn’t know I even had a shot with Josh yet, let alone how horribly taking that shot would go. Everything is still ahead of us—anything could happen.
That’s what I’m busy pretending when Dad reaches over and chucks me on the bottom of the chin. The way he used to when I was little, and moping.
I clear my throat.
“Everything okay there, Pau?”
“Yeah. Great.” I force a smile. I’m going to have to lie better than that, I know. “Just a bit sad the summer’s coming to an end, that’s all. It’s been a great one, hasn’t it?”
Dad smiles back at me. He seems happy enough, though weirdly, that smile doesn’t seem to quite reach his eyes. He turns to gaze across the water again, and takes a long sip of his drink.
“It really has,” he finally agrees.
I smile. “You’re happy here?”
“I am.” He sighs. “And I’m happy to have all of you here. You and Josh and Susan. It feels right, doesn’t it? The four of us.”
My throat sticks. I force it open with a sharp inhale of air. “Yeah. It really does.”
“Like old times.” He’s smiling for real now, the nostalgia sharp in his expression.
“So you made the right choice, huh?” I smirk. “Marrying that old flame?”
He laughs. “Oh, there wasn’t a flame back then. But it surprises you, what can crop up over time.”
Don’t I know it.
Dad’s looking at me again though, a little too closely, so I turn away to study the grass behind us instead, pretending I’m checking on the sun.
“How about you, though, Pau?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, far too quickly, my voice too high-pitched. Dammit.
“You’ve been quiet the past few days. Haven’t seen you and Josh out romping around. Haven’t seen you doing much of anything, to be honest.”
“I’m just tired,” I lie.
He elbows me. “You’re going to have to do better than that with the guy who raised you, sweetheart. I know you almost as well as I know myself by now.”
I sigh, and it turns into a frustrated groan at the end. “It’s nothing, Dad. Really. Just some stupid melodramatic… whatever.”
“Is this about a boy?” His tone goes serious, scolding, but I know he’s mostly joking. He likes to pretend that he’ll crush any guy who crosses me, even though he’s the gentlest person ever.
“It’s not about a boy,” I assure him.
“A girl then?” he asks, his tone carefully neutral.
I roll my eyes and elbow him. “I don’t play for that team, so no.”
“Just saying, if you did, I’d be completely behind you.”
“Oh my god, Dad.”
“Well, you’ve yet to bring a boyfriend home…”
I roll my eyes and glare at him. From the way he’s grinning, I know he’s just teasing though. “There’s nobody, Dad. It’s not about that.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s…” I rub my temples. What can I possibly say to fix this? “It’s just something I can’t talk about, okay? It’s a personal problem, and I know you always say I can tell you anything—”
“You really can, you know,” he interrupts.
I talk over him, “But sometimes, there are just secrets that are better off kept secret and dealt with yourself, you know? Sometimes you aren’t ready to talk about them to people yet.”
“I understand that,” he replies, much to my surprise. This time, when I look over at him, he’s finally stopped scrutinizing me. He’s gazing across the water instead, right at our cabin. Though in reality, he seems about a million miles away from here or the cabin just now.
“What do you mean?” I ask softly. Now it’s my turn to pry, because he’s shaking his head already. I nudge him. “Dad?”
“What if…” He sighs, downs the last of his lemonade in one big gulp and sets it aside. When he turns to face me again, hands on his knees, I feel a new knot forming in my stomach. Why does he look so nervous, so penitent? It makes my heart ache to see him looking this way, sad and pensive. Is it me? Did he find out about Josh and me?
“What if I told you that I’d been keeping a secret too?” Dad finally asks.
I blink. It throws me off so much that for a moment, I don’t know what to say. Then I find my voice again and reach out to touch his shoulder. “I’d say that’s okay, Dad. Everyone needs to do that from time to time.”
“Yes, but… Well, this one affects more than just me.” He clears his throat. Shakes his head. “I’m starting to wonder if maybe the truth wouldn’t have been better off from the start.”
“It usually is, I guess. Even if it’s awkward.” I side-eye him. Though in truth, I’m thinking about just how hypocritical I sound right now, giving him that kind of advice. Dammit, self.
“Pau, I hate to do this, when the summer has gone so well, but I just… I have to say this.”
Oh god. Here it comes. My stomach turns to ice, my veins pumping that freezing cold nitrogen throughout my body. He knows.
“I did something. The summer we stayed here last. I think it might be why… Why Susan and Josh didn’t talk to us for a long time.”
I blink. Stare at him. Gape, actually, is a better term. “What?”
“I just, it seemed like you and Josh were getting very close back then, and I knew that they were going to be moving away. Plus you’ve always been impulsive and quick to care about people—and that’s a great thing, Pau, it really is, but it can lead to getting easily hurt, so I… I wanted to avoid that if possible.”
I cross my arms, slowly. “What did you do, Dad?”
“I told Josh to stay away from you.”
I can feel myself standing, though I’m not really aware of it. “You did what?”
“You had so much going on, Pau—your art, college applications, deciding where you wanted to go and what you wanted to do. If you got knocked up by some kid who was about to move a few hundred miles away, what would happen then?”
“Knocked up? You think I’m that irresponsible?”
“You were so young—”
“That doesn’t make it okay for you to meddle like that!”
“I know, Paulina, and I’m sorry. I just wanted to come clean and tell you so that you understand where I’m coming from and why…” He closes his eyes, shakes his head. “Why Josh seems a little strange sometimes. I’m going to talk to him too, apologize. Obviously I overstepped where you two were concerned anyway.”
I storm away from him, not dignifying that with a response.
“I’m sorry, Pau,” Dad calls after me. But I’m not ready to talk to him yet. No. I need to find Josh first.
It doesn’t take me long to find him. He’s out behind the woodshed, shirt tied around his waist, sweat glistening along his abs as he lifts the axe to chop another block of firewood. For a second, I pause just to watch him work and savor the way the sun glistens off his muscles, highlights every inch of his glorious body.
Then I step into his line of sight, and he sets the axe aside, eying me with a cold, sideways stare. He runs a hand through his hair, and I try not to let that distract me either, because damn, even that simple motion drives me crazy. Makes me want to tackle him right here and kiss that pout off his stupid lips, run my hands over his hard pecs…
“Are you talking to me again?” he asks, and I swallow my crazy lusty impulses.
“I’m sorry.” I step closer. “I shouldn’t have been avoiding you. I shouldn’t be running. You’re right.”
His eyebrows rise. “That may be the first time I’ve ever heard you say that.”
I roll my eyes. “Josh. I’m being serious here.”
He steps closer to me, too. “Serious about what, exactly, Pau?”
I swallow hard. Lick my lips. “About us. Josh, I…”
He just waits me out in silence, eyes on me, red-hot, but compelling me. I want to tell him the truth. The whole truth and nothing but.
I have to.
“I know what my dad said to you. All those years ago.”
He grimaces, but nods.
“I’m sorry he did that. And I’m sorry you felt you had to listen. And… I’m also sorry that I got scared. By this, by us, by how much I feel for you. It freaked me out, especially given… Given everything. This whole situation. But it doesn’t change how I feel. It doesn’t change what I want. And I want to be with you.”
A throat clears sharply. But it’s not Josh’s.
Josh realizes first. His eyes widen, and his mouth goes slack. I whip around, follow the direction he’s looking, over my shoulder.
Behind me, carrying a tray laden with three more glasses of lemonade, stands Susan.
To judge by the shocked expression on her face—a mirror image of Josh’s face right now, the resemblance between them starkly visible for once—she heard everything I just said.
“I…” I wince. “Susan, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“Paulina,” she interrupts. I stammer to a halt. What else can I say? How can I explain that away?
“We were practicing for a, um… a play, and…”
“Are you in love with my son?” Susan asks, point-blank.