thirty-six | emberly
THIRTY-SIXEmberly
I missed my calling. I would have been a great detective, because I’ve totally got the stakeout thing down.
I back away from the window before Will sees me and wait a respectable five seconds to answer the knock at the screen door.
The scent of pine and cedar seasons the air.
I drag in a breath like I’ve been trapped in a room with no oxygen and hold it until my lungs remind me to exhale.
Will’s hair is damp from a recent shower.
He’s wearing clean but faded jeans and a plaid button-down (cotton, not flannel) instead of the usual T-shirt.
The shirt, a summer palette of blues and greens, somehow makes his eyes look even more blue.
The ensemble is casual but also a little … date-like.
Now I’m glad I swapped my Dairy Den tee for a sleeveless linen crop top and palazzo pants.
Even though this is Not a Date.
This is a planning session.
“I thought I was supposed to come over to your place.” I lower my voice, still channeling Nancy Drew.
“Reeve invited Cab over to do some fishing and then out for ice cream, so I figured we could have our planning session a little early tonight.”
See? Will just called it a planning session, too.
I smile to hide my disappointment.
“That works for me. My cabin or yours?”
I was going for teasing, but it comes out sounding flirtatious instead.
It’s just … being with Will always lifts my mood.
It’s like hearing your favorite song. Or finding a pair of jeans that are a perfect fit.
I feel more grounded when I’m with him, but at the same time, it makes me want to take risks.
You remember that scene in Titanic, when Jack stands behind Rose on the bow of the ship and she puts her arms out?
He’s not holding onto her, he’s just there.
Giving her the freedom to fly. Steady her if she starts to fall.
That’s how I feel when I’m with Will.
The Lockwoods have always encouraged independence. Don’t follow a path, forge your own, is our unspoken motto. But seeing how Will is there for his sisters, how he and his friends rely on each other, I realize it’s nice to know you aren’t alone.
It’s why I’ve worked so hard to stay connected to the Sixteens. In the four years we attended Langley-Davis, they became my people. The sisters I never had.
“Neither,” Will says.
It takes a second for me to scroll back to the beginning of our conversation.
“I thought we could talk on the boat.”
“Oh.” My mind flashes back to the morning I went fishing with Iris. The boat is tippy. It’s also small … but small means we’ll be closer together, so I’m in. “Sure. Let me get my laptop.”
“I’d leave it here. Just in case.”
In case of what? We capsize? Get attacked by eagles? I cast a wary look at the sky. They are majestic birds, but they’re much smaller when they’re in the air. I saw one land on the shoreline the other day and it was the size of a three-year-old child.
We walk down to the dock and I wave to the Drummonds, who’ve taken over the entire lawn for their all-day corn hole tournament.
Iris’s fishing boat is tethered to the dock, but Will grabs my hand when I veer toward it.
“Not that one.”
I balk, only because I know he’ll let go if I don’t. I know. I’m like the middle school girl who steals the football from her crush so he has to chase her down the field to get it back.
Pathetic. But it also works, because Will weaves his fingers through mine, locking us together.
I see where he’s leading us and this time I balk for real.
“That’s not a boat.”
Will’s lips twitch. “It floats, so technically, it qualifies.”
I eye the sleek red canoe resting on the strip of sand between the lake and the grass. “You said you like things with engines.”
“Most of the time.” Will tips his head. “Are you afraid of the water? Because I thought you said you lived by the ocean.”
“Live by, yes. And I’m not afraid of the water … I don’t know how to operate a canoe.”
Will laughs and now I’m ready to swim across the lake if it means an evening in his company. “With a paddle. Come on.”
He reaches into the canoe, pulls out a faded orange life jacket, and drops it over my head. Eau de Lake, with notes of driftwood and fish.
Will pushes the canoe into the water and hops in. Stretches out his hand.
“Well?”
The canoe turns into a teeter totter as I climb awkwardly inside. There’s a wicker basket between the seats.
“Lemonade,” he says before I can ask. “And chocolate cake.”
I saw a group of women from Will’s church plying him with leftovers after the church potluck (because yes, I accepted Iris’s invitation and tagged along) and not all of them had wrinkles and gray hair.
One in particular, a cute brunette who sang a solo during the service, made a point to seek out Will and say hello afterward.
To cover up the pinch of jealousy, I tease him again.
“Do we need sustenance? Are we going to be shipwrecked and cut off from civilization?”
My goal was to make Will laugh. The flash of heat in his eyes, as quick and unexpected as summer lightning, stirs up the same feeling of wonder.
“No.” He leans down to grab a paddle, but I find the color blooming underneath the stubble on his jaw equally fascinating.
Suddenly, I’m wishing there was a deserted island in the middle of the lake. I wouldn’t even need chocolate cake and lemonade. Just Will.
The canoe begins to glide through the water and Will makes paddling look effortless as we follow the curve of the shoreline.
The sun is starting to set and I take a photo.
“You don’t have sunsets in Florida?”
I slip my phone back into my pocket.
“Not this one.”
This one—this moment—I want to remember.
Will sets the paddle across his lap, letting the waves direct our course. There isn’t much of a breeze, though, so we rock in place.
“Cake time,” Will announces.
“You’re really going to eat cake. In a canoe.”
“It’s calm this evening. Not much different than sitting at the table.” He pulls out two small containers and hands one to me, along with a fork. Real, not plastic. There are napkins, too.
I don’t know if it’s wishful thinking on my part but I’m getting that date-like vibe again.
“So … a scavenger hunt. Burgers … is there anything else I should know about?”
Or maybe Will was using chocolate to sweeten the lecture that I sensed was coming when he told me how many packages had been delivered to the cabin.
The truth is, planning Iris’s party has been a lot of fun. And knowing I’m helping Will in the process is the frosting on the cake. No pun intended.
“When the girls get here, we’re going to tie-dye shirts they can wear during the party.
I bought some of those little cameras that develop photos right away for the scavenger hunt.
Reeve is going to make a list of things they have to find around the resort and the girls can take the cameras home with them as a favor. ”
Will doesn’t say anything, so I keep going.
“They’ll eat dinner together and watch Iris open her gifts.” There’s another surprise I’m working on, but it may not happen, so I don’t mention it to Will yet. “Do you have any extra tables I can set up in Firefly for the tie-dying?”
Will’s eyebrows dip together. “There isn’t a lot of room in your cabin for that.”
“I’ll put some of the girls at the kitchen table and the rest in the living room.”
Will is silent. He’s probably thinking about the mess or potential damage that a group of girls could inflict on one of his rental cabins. Something I hadn’t considered until now.
“Bad idea. I’m sor—”
“What about the studio? Would that work?”
The questions trip over each other, almost as if Will had to get the words out before he changed his mind.
“Will … no. I wasn’t hinting.”
The studio wasn’t on my radar. And even if it had been, I wouldn’t have asked Will for permission to turn his mom’s retreat into a craft room for a group of adolescent girls.
“I know. But if you need extra space, it makes the most sense.”
I’m shaking my head. “Firefly will be fine.”
“It’s Cab’s thirteenth birthday. Mom … she’d want to make it special.” Will’s voice sounds tight and I know this isn’t easy for him.
“All right. But I’ll make sure it’s spotless when we’re finished,” I add quickly. “Really. You won’t know we were there.”
“It’s a room.” Will sighs. “I don’t know why I’m so protective of it.”
“It’s a room filled with memories,” I say carefully. “That’s what you’re trying to protect.”
And maybe his heart, but I don’t say that part out loud.
“Is there anything else?”
The change in topic is a stop sign, so I respect it.
“I rented a karaoke machine. Iris mentioned her friends love to sing.”
Will groans.
“They’ll love it! I’m hoping your sister can help me decorate the stage—”
“The stage?”
“Well, it’s a flatbed truck. Reeve said she could borrow one from her brother. We’ll park it in that open area behind your garage for privacy, so the guests won’t wander over.” I pause to take a bite of cake and remember another item on my list. “I need your opinion. Cake or cupcakes?”
“Cake,” he says without hesitation.
“Flavor?”
“Doesn’t matter. Cab likes them all.”
If possible, I like Iris even more.
“How about vanilla bean with white chocolate ganache and raspberry filling? Maybe irises made of sugar or frosting on the top? Or is that too much?”
“Asks the woman who’s setting up a stage for karaoke.”
“A small one.”
The canoe has drifted toward shore so Will starts paddling again. Away from the resort.
I take another bite of cake because what I really want to do is shout, “Yes!”
Is it possible he wants more time together, too? Hope stirs inside of me.
“What you said … the vanilla white chocolate thing is fine. The ice cream has to have peanut butter in it, though.”
“Thank you for the tip.” I make a mental note. “What’s the name of the bakery you use?”
“Brighton always makes Cab’s birthday cake from scratch. Like Mom did. She doesn’t get as fancy with the decorations, though.”
“Your mom was an artist.”
“Yeah.” Will’s smile is soft. “She was.”
Brighton won’t be here until the night before the party and I doubt she’ll want to bake a cake after a twelve-hour flight.
“I can make it.”
I say this with more confidence than I feel and Will nods, like he believes I can do this, too. Even though I practically admitted the only thing I know how to make is a decent cup of espresso.
I grab my cell phone.
“You’re looking up a recipe now?”
I could lie and say yes …
“I’m texting Hazel.”