“I don't have a plan. Exactly,” she explains. “I work for my parents, for my dad's construction company. I work in the office and do his bookings for him. My brothers do too—I have five of them. And one little sister.”
Anchor's eyes widen at that. “Oh wow. You really do have a big family.”
She tells me their ages and where she is in the lineup.
“So in those terms, I guess yeah, my life is pretty planned out. I just kind of fell into it. I did online college after high school. And I love doing the interior design stuff. But it's not very practical because the town is pretty small and I wouldn't want to move to a bigger city to get more clients. I love my house and I love my family. And I love Home.”
She smiles but there's something missing in that smile.
A light has gone out.
“What aren't you saying, Lemon Rough?” I ask her. I reach for my glass of wine and take a drink.
She sighs, shaking her head, running her fingers through her loose curls. “I guess… Sometimes I imagined my life being a little bigger than it is, that's all.”
“Bigger how?” I ask, curious about how her mind works. Not wanting to assume anything about this woman I've just met.
Using her fork, she runs the tines across the vegetables on her plate. “It's not that I want to leave Home. I don't want to change my life in any wild way. But…” She shakes her head, her cheeks turning pink.
“What?” I ask, leaning in, my elbows on the table.
“Nothing. We've just met. This is stupid.”
“Doesn't have to be. Tell me what you were just thinking right then.”
“You want me to tell you the truth?”
“Sure,” I say. “Why not?”
She groans. “I've never brought a guy home,” she admits.
I chuckle, but wanting to know with absolute certainty I am reading this woman correctly, I ask, “Do you mean your house or your family’s home? Are you a virgin?”
“I am. It's not a secret. It's just the facts. I have five big rough-and-tumble brothers and…” She shakes her head. “They haven't let a guy get anywhere close to me.” She bites the side of herlip. “It's why I was thinking maybe I should have left for college. Maybe I should have skipped town. My little sister Fig, she's a senior in high school right now. And she has these big, lofty plans for herself. She's leaving. She's headed to Europe and wants to see the world. And I think she's pretty smart because when she leaves town, she won't have anyone watching over her, judging her every movement. She'll be able to have one-night stands and make mistakes. And those aren't things I've ever had.”
I swallow. “Never, ever?”
She shakes her head slowly, her eyes finding mine. Innocent in a way I wasn't expecting. Out on that dock earlier, she was all competence. And even though she's sitting here in this tiny little bikini, wearing a cover-up, I still see her like that. Like a woman who knows exactly who she is, but there's parts of her that have never been explored.
I see that now. “Your little sister though,” I say, “if she leaves and doesn't have you? Your brothers watching over her? She might be missing out. Having a family like that. That's something pretty special.”
“What about you?” Lemon asks me. “Do you have a family? People who are up in your business in ways that drive you crazy?”
I shake my head. “No. My family's gone. I'm a lone ranger.”
The way I say it must be so quiet, so intimate that she doesn't press me further. Instead, she reaches across the table and takes my hand.
“Well, right now I guess it's just you and me here at the lake,” she says. “No one can judge us here.”
“All afternoon you had me thinking some crazy thoughts.”
Her eyes lift. “What kind of thoughts?”
“Thoughts I'm not quite sure your brothers would approve of.”
“Well, good thing they're not here,” she says with a smile. Then she pushes herself away from the table and stands. She lets her cover-up fall to the floor. “I know I've been to your lake house before,” she says with a smile, “but how about you give me the tour anyways.”
5