9. Tea
Chapter 9
Tea
Loons prefer lakes with coves and islands for resting and nesting, but enough water for easily taking off in flight.
They are excellent indicators of high-quality water, choosing unharmed lakes that haven’t been heavily polluted or are free from disturbances such as human activity and motorboats.
They also choose habitats with an abundance of fish.
“Nan tells me you’re hanging out with Archer again.”
Tea was standing on the beach, toes in the water, face shaded by her hat while the rest of her skin burned.
She didn’t care. Hearing her mom’s voice was worth it, and she didn’t dare face the reception black hole that existed between the beach and Cabin B.
She’d rather burn outside then lose Mom on the phone in an attempt to get more sunscreen.
Unless they would be talking about Archer for too long.
“Yep,” she answered, her tone curt.
“Can’t really avoid him if I’m going to be here for three months.”
“Sure, that makes sense. But Nan says you spend every day at his cabin.”
Tea sighed.
She wasn’t surprised in the slightest that Nan made it sound like something it was not.
“I’m helping him out with some admin work this summer. Did she tell you that Archer took over as the Wild Pines manager?”
“Already? I thought Astor had another five years before he was going to hand it off.”
Did he?
Tea wouldn’t have any idea, given how she gone mostly noncontact with anyone she knew at Wild Pines.
“How did you know that?”
“He used to talk to your father about retiring and said 2025 was the year.” Mom sighed.
“But I can’t blame him. This… thing happening right now changes a lot of perspectives.”
Tea dug her feet deeper underwater, soft sand lodging between her toes.
“I don’t know much. Archer hasn’t talked about it to me. Or about anything, honestly.”
“Are things still weird between the two of you?”
Tea nodded her head, then realized her mother wouldn’t be able to see her.
“Yeah,” she whispered in a soft tone, even though there wasn’t anyone around her.
It was too early for the cohort to be outside making noise.
It was only her and Rhonda, who was down by the docks filling her boat with gas.
“How so?” Mom pried.
She exhaled. “He…doesn’t really talk much. It’s like he has this mask he puts up when he’s around me. He’s too nice, in a charming, cornfed-Midwest-boy kind of way. Like how he would act with all of the adults when we were kids.” She flicked some sand underwater, watching it float to the top of the water, then sink back down.
“It’s unnerving, honestly.”
“Well, honey, things between the two of you didn’t go so well that summer—”
“I know,” she interrupted.
She didn’t need the reminder.
“Maybe give him some time?”
She squeezed her eyes shut.
She really didn’t want to be talking about this anymore.
“I miss you.”
“I miss you too. I’m trying my best to see if I can get some time off and drive up there in August—”
Tea perked up.
“ Seriously ?”
She listened to her mom laugh, and it was the most beautiful sound.
God , she missed her.
“Seriously,” Mom replied.
“But don’t get your hopes up quite yet, okay? Trying to get out of the hospital at all is a challenge these days.”
“But there’s a chance?”
Mom hummed.
“Yes. A chance.”
Tea smiled and leaned her head back, the sun touching her face.
“This is the best news.”
The line went silent on the other end.
Tea looked at her phone and realized she lost connection.
She held her phone up to the sky, hoping to catch a couple magical bars.
Her phone dinged with a text message from Mom moments later, letting her know she was heading back into her shift.
Tea’s shoulders fell, but then she reminded herself that she could potentially see her mother in less than two months.
She grinned, tossing her phone on the chair behind her, and skipped to the cabin for sunscreen.
She didn’t even realize she was skipping until she made it back to the cabin, a moment of deep nostalgia flashing before her eyes.
It all felt so familiar.
For the first time since arriving at Silver Falls, she didn’t hate the feeling.
They were tiptoeing around each other.
After the night they ate pizza and Tea left a complacent Archer on his front porch, the two of them slipped into a cordial, surface-level work relationship.
It felt weird seeing Archer in this light, especially when she once knew the side of him that would run around Wild Pines with his brother’s underwear on his head, or cover his entire chest with body paint for the annual corn hole tournament.
Adult Archer was too stoic, and it irked her.
Even if Tea hadn’t seen him grow up into the man he was now, she was fully convinced that this chill, distant, nice demeanor was a mask for whatever was going on behind it.
But he told her she was wrong, and she was in no place to push further.
Even if she didn’t believe him in the slightest.
They used to be inseparable.
During the off-season when she was back in New Jersey and he in Saint Paul, they kept in touch by sending ridiculous cards to one another throughout the year.
Archer sent her a Happy Grandparents Day on her eighth birthday, so she sent a Happy Bridal Shower one on his, and the tradition of sending out-of-context cards stuck—until they both received cell phones and could text each other constantly.
She knew so much about him then, and now that she was around him every day, she wished she still knew him that way.
If only she hadn’t messed it up so badly.
Her computer let out a bright ding , letting her know she had a new email.
She stood near the lake-facing window as she sipped on the coffee in her mug, her second one of the day thanks to the large, well-insulated carafe that Archer made her every morning.
It was one in the afternoon, and the day was cloudy and rainy, but no wind whatsoever.
Just a dead, wet, summer day.
Everyone was cooped up in their cabins, and after months of having to stay holed up at home, she knew that was likely the last place any of the Wild Pines crew wanted to be.
Another ding from her computer.
She made her way back to Archer’s desk, which she had turned into her workspace over the past couple of weeks.
No more chaotic piles of pens and sticky pads and loose pieces of paper with rimmed coffee stains.
Everything was in neat folders and piles, the pens placed inside a plastic University of Minnesota water cup she stole from his kitchen.
The first email was a reply from Rhonda, asking if they could add a debriefing of Silver Fall’s new fishing regulations to the agenda that Tea had sent out that morning.
She typed a reply, letting her know she would add it to the list.
The second was from the Ten Thousand Lake Loon Committee.
To: Theresa Richards
From: The Ten Thousand Lake Loon Committee
Hello, Theresa Richards!
Thank you for joining our efforts to protect and take care of our loons.
Before starting with your local lake committee, we invite all new members to watch this virtual introduction video about our mission and our goals as a committee.
We are dedicated to taking care of our loons across all of our ten thousand lakes, and it’s because people like you make that possible.
When you are finished, please send your certificate of completion to your local chapter administrator.
We are thrilled to have your help protecting our loons, Theresa Richards!
The Ten Thousand Lake Loon Committee
“What are you reading there?”
Tea jumped, then slammed her laptop shut.
She didn’t even see him slip in.
Archer was standing rather close behind her, the mask on his face muffling his laugh.
She snatched the cloth mask on her desk and tied it behind her ears.
“You can’t do that.”
“Do what? See what you’re doing during precious work hours?”
“Technically, you don’t pay me, so I can do whatever I want during work hours.”
Even with his mask on, Tea could tell Archer was giving her a Stop being such a smart-ass face.
He turned toward the kitchen and opened the fridge.
“Salad again?”
“You really love that salad, huh?”
After a beat of silence, he closed the door of the fridge with his foot as he balanced the pile of containers with their pre-chopped salad ingredients.
“Don’t tell my mom. I still have her convinced that I’m allergic to spinach.”
“ Still ? How has she not noticed that you’re not actually allergic?”
The corners of his eyes crinkled, a clear sign that he was smiling behind that mask.
“Can’t exactly prove it if we never have it, right?”
She shook her head and opened her laptop back up.
“Unbelievable.”
They remained in silence for a couple of minutes, her typing away as Archer opened containers and dumped ingredients into two salad bowls.
“Seriously, what are you working on over there?” Archer asked.
At this point, she understood his tone.
Before, he’d been playful and unserious, but this tone was adult Archer.
Calm and business-like.
A “get down to business” and “don’t fuck around” kind of tone.
The sound of it always made her core twist, and she couldn’t decide if it was a bad thing…
or a good thing.
“Rhonda requested that we add the new fishing regulations to the agenda for the owners’ meeting tomorrow.”
“No, we won’t have time.”
“Yes we will.” Tea opened up the agenda document she emailed to the Wild Pines owners that morning.
“We can easily talk through the fishing cabin, rental pricing for next season, and hiring maintenance in less than ten minutes, and discussing safety changes for the Fourth of July party shouldn’t take more than ten either. The only topic that will probably take a lot of time is—”
“Jet skis.”
“—jet skis,” she said at the same time.
“Right. So if we leave that at the end with minimal time, then we won’t have much time to discuss it—”
“You’re not accounting for the thirty to forty-five minutes of derailed conversation.”
“We won’t let that happen this year.”
He looked up at her, brow raised.
“Good luck with that.”
She ignored him and opened up the document design file on her computer.
“I’m going to squeeze it in before talking about the party. I’m estimating it will take five minutes.”
Archer didn’t reply at first. She listened as he unscrewed the bottle of dressing, then to the sound of tossing salads moments later.
“Have you done this before? Run meetings?”
She shrugged.
“No. But I did learn a bit about business management, which I think will help.”
“You seem good at it.”
She felt her face flush and quicked a glance at Archer.
His eyes were on the bowls and not on her, unaware of the ridiculous way she was reacting to his compliment.
Despite their shared lunch hours and the one time they had dinner together, their relationship was a business one.
They didn’t talk much, and based on the way Archer acted around her after what she said over pizza crusts last week, she had a feeling he wanted it that way.
She shook out of it, watching as he opened his fridge.
“I also joined the loon committee.”
He paused, the fridge door open.
“Seriously?”
Her stomach dropped.
“I mean, the association did email everyone saying they would love if one person from our resort was represented on the committee, and we all know that really means do it or you’re bear food , so I thought I could do it that way no one else would…”
Her words faded out as Archer closed the door.
He wasn’t mad. He looked—amused.
Or at least as amused as one could look with a blue mask on their face.
She glared at him. “Don’t make fun of me.”
He held up his hands.
“Hey, I’m not the one walking around with loon books all the time.”
She continued to glare.
“I think they are fascinating.”
“God, you are still such a nerd.”
“There’s nothing wrong with learning!”
“Absolutely. Someone has to love it.”
“I do love it, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He placed two cans of lemon seltzer on the counter, then opened his silverware drawer and retrieved two forks.
“I’m pretty sure you’re the only person I’ve ever seen read a textbook on loons from start to finish in one week.”
She felt her face go hot again as she saved the updated document for the meeting’s agenda, then hit print.
“Did you know loons are loyal to their breeding territories and return to the spots where they nest each year?”
Archer looked out at the gray lake that matched the stormy clouds in the sky.
“No, I didn’t.”
The air shifted between them.
Her throat tightened.
She went to grab her salad, desperate to change the subject.
“So it’s raining outside.”
“Thank you, captain obvious.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Yes, but we can’t eat outside , then.”
His eyes widened.
“Oh, I see.” He scanned his cabin.
“I’ll eat on the couch, you eat at the table.”
“I think—” Her words died in her throat.
His brows knitted together.
“Think what? Spit it out.”
She sighed.
“It’s been two weeks since I arrived, and I think we’ve spent enough time together that we’re probably…um…okay?”
Tea watched his jaw work underneath his mask.
“Unless that makes you uncomfortable,” she blurted.
“But we only went to town once and I tested negative when I arrived—”
“All right.”
Her eyes widened.
“Yeah?”
She watched him slip his mask off with ease, amazed at how easy he felt to do so.
Maybe she was wrong about his anxiety after all.
“Yeah,” he replied. “Let’s eat.”
They ate at opposite ends of the table, not exchanging words as they chewed on chicken, spring mix, apples, and goat cheese.
They were already out of pecans, but that didn’t stop Archer from making it every day.
Tea wondered if he made the salad because he truly liked it, or if he made what Tea liked because she was working for free.
Tea bit on a slice of chicken, sneaking looks at Archer as he stared into his salad bowl, brow furrowed, and shoveled food into his mouth.
She scanned the snake tattoo on his arm, then the skeleton one underneath it.
“How many tattoos do you have?”
A smirk curled at the corner of his lips.
“One hundred and twelve.”
Her mouth fell open.
He chuckled, pointing to his right arm.
“This arm has twenty-three.” He pointed to his left.
“This one has nineteen.” He placed his hands on his legs.
She ignored how big they looked on his thighs.
“Forty-seven on my legs.”
She nodded.
“Okay…so that’s ninety-one.”
His smirk inched closer to a smile.
“Twenty on my chest, and one on my back.”
“Only one?”
“It’s…kind of a big one.”
Her eyes grew wide.
“How big?”
“It’s more ink than back at this point.”
She whistled.
“That’s…”
His head cocked to the side.
“Too many?”
She flushed.
“ No. No, no. You’re just…really passionate about tattoos.”
He shrugged.
“A friend of mine owns a parlor in Minneapolis. When she started her apprenticeship back in college, I was happy being a person she could practice on. Prices were a lot cheaper, and she’s never raised them on me since, even after opening up her own place.”
Tea fished her fork around her salad, pretending like she was looking for an apple or something, even though her brain was spinning on the “she” in that sentence.
She tattooed him one-hundred and twelve times?
That was a lot of time to spend with someone of the opposite sex.
She coughed. “Minneapolis, huh?”
He nodded.
“Been there since I finished undergrad. Well, except for my summer in New York.”
She dropped her fork in her bowl.
“You were in New York?”
Archer ran a hand down his face, looking like he very much regretted speaking.
“When?” she pried.
He scratched the back of his neck, then leaned his head up to look her in the eyes.
“I interned at Mint Club three summers ago.”
She felt like she was going to fall out of her chair.
That was why he wasn’t in those photos of Riley shaving Austin’s head.
Archer was in New York.
He was less than an hour’s train ride away from her all summer.
They could have run into each other.
Except she would have never gone to Mint Club because it was a cocktail lounge with a massive line of customers and she barely had a budget to afford it anyway.
He continued, committed to explaining himself.
“I lived in this shit studio that I rented with another intern in the East Village, but I was never there. I worked all of the time, learning from the mixologists, prepping garnishes and food before shifts, then staying late to clean.”
Tea placed her feet on her chair and tucked her legs close.
“I would have called you, but I was…” He sighed, then rubbed his face again.
“Scratch that. I wouldn’t have called. I thought about it, but the few times I contemplated it, I got too mad to even click on your name.”
She rested her chin on her knees, giving up on the filter she’d attempted before.
Who cares. It was confession time, and she wanted some answers.
“The tattoo artist. A friend or…did it ever turn to anything more?”
Archer placed his wrists on the table, then proceeded to open and close his fists, like he was squeezing two invisible stress balls.
“Just a friend, Tea.”
Tea exhaled.
“But she did introduce me to Janelle.”
Her heart sank in her chest.
“Janelle and I dated for two years, but she broke things off in January.”
She cleared her throat, keeping her eyes on him as she spoke.
“I’m sorry.”
He grabbed his fork and tossed it in his empty bowl.
“One of her astrology friends told her that our stars didn’t align anymore, or whatever bull shit she was fed. So she moved in with her parents, then remained there as things shut down.”
She moved her legs to sit crisscross, then clasped her hands and placed them in her lap.
“And now?”
“I packed my things, dropped off boxes to her parents when she wasn’t there, then moved up here.”
“So you left Minneapolis?”
“Temporarily. I’ll move back…eventually. Things are too weird right now.”
She nodded her head.
“That makes sense.”
Archer crossed his arms, his biceps flexing with the motion.
“Okay, your turn. Spill.”
“Spill what?”
“Date anyone?”
She flushed, feeling perplexed that Archer Vincent was sitting across the table, asking about her love life.
It was too weird.
“N-no,” she finally replied.
“No one.”
His eyebrows shot northward.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. I focused on school and spent a lot of time with Mom. We moved out of Morristown and I lived with her in a two-bedroom in New Brunswick while I was in undergrad, close to the hospital and to Rutgers, then moved to Chicago for grad school. We spent a lot of our summers in New York.”
He cocked his head again, and the way it reminded her of the Archer of before made her smile.
He may be covered in tattoos and give off a cool demeanor, but he still looked like the boy she once knew.
Endlessly curious and playful.
Always looking for a way to tease her.
“Why do I not believe you? You’re telling me you’ve dated no one ?”
“No one. I had…flings, I guess? But when things got too serious I cut it off.”
The red that was streaked along his neck now climbed up to his cheeks.
“I…sorry,” she rushed out.
He stood up, the chair screeching against the wood floor behind him.
“Maybe we get back to work?”
She didn’t say anything as she watched him quickly shove his mask into his pocket, then snatched his hat and placed it backward on his head as he left the cabin.