12. Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve
Cal Truitt
M y patience for Skip James is at an all-time low. Roping Grady into participation in forced Lake Hollow Days fun was one thing (and not exactly easy), but now he wants me to talk his niece, his headstrong and frustrating niece into it. Isn’t it enough that I covered for his insensitivity after their fight? Making her think that he showed concern.
“Ohoohoo, that was so much fun,” sarcasm drips from my words as I clap. “Let’s never do this again.” I drop the hammer onto the flatbed of the trailer hooked up to a tractor.
Charlie looks over at me from where he’s laying on his back, tacking up streamers to the underside of a large clown’s leg. “Where is he anyway? Shouldn’t the person responsible for this horrible idea be putting some of the labor in?”
Circling behind the trailer where I had tossed my shirt, I snicker at Charlie’s observation. It’s easily ninety degrees, within minutes of busting our asses, I started to shed clothing like I was molting. “Grady, what do you say, should we teach Skip an important lesson about leading by example?” He’s been quiet, helping move the heavy ass clown statue onto the float and securing the astro turf for a couple of mini putt holes.
His aunt’s funeral was only days ago, it makes sense that he’s still in shock. I spent the day telling myself not to cry. Not to attack Wilder in a church full of witnesses. If I had conversations that day, I don’t remember any of them.
Like walking through a dream. None of it felt real.
Remi coming to the funeral with Wilder broke me a little bit. Her argument over not meeting my family or Charlie’s under those circumstances was logical. Grady needed her, she’d be by his side. But in true Remi fashion she does the unexpected. She shows up with Wilder and his mom, driving home how deeply I’ve sunk into her. How damn invested I am.
The day we had Sara’s funeral was rainy. Certain things are indelible. I could never erase. Mom had a fit over the outfit she was wearing, but it wasn’t about that at all. It was the overwhelming pain of saying goodbye. Katie Gibson didn’t cry. She was close to Sara… I saw her cry a few days after Sara was found. She was blank faced, and emotionless. It was the same church, St. James, Father Conelly led the service, Lala had sat a few pews behind us, she mouthed, ‘I’m here’ to me as I stood to speak but couldn’t do it.
I never want to go to another funeral as long as I live.
Grady stands to pull his shirt off, and he’s been working out it appears. It’s tough not to gape at his changed physique. In high school, he was on the scrawny side. “Damn, Marlow. What are you bench pressing now?”
Charlie laughs. “More than you.”
A comfort level has developed between the three of us since Remi instituted her plan to see us all. That doesn’t mean I’m not jealous as hell. He’s a rockstar, a good looking one at that. How do I compete with him or moneybags? So, I don’t try.
Something tells me Remi doesn’t value money, or fame.
The James’ all arrive in Skip’s Subaru after half the work is complete. Remi sets boxes of pizza down while Natalie lugs a cooler full of drinks to the side of the float. “I can’t believe you guys are doing this for him.” She doesn’t even lower her voice around Skip. “Look at the three of you… total thirst traps.” She winks at me.
Natalie wastes no time before she’s flirting with Grady and Charlie, but they’re ignoring it all.
Pulling her hair up into a ponytail, Remi hops on the trailer bed to help. She whistles to herself, while pushing at the clown until he’s half hidden behind the windmill obstacle. Never missing the opportunity to irk her uncle. Love it. “I happened to notice that a certain band hit number seven on the Billboard charts today when their new single was released.” Shooting a look Grady’s way, she continues, “That is cause for celebration don’t ya think?”
Her lunging at him to give him a hug, makes me pause. I have to get used to this. This is what I agreed to. Natalie’s mouth drops open, cutting to look at me. As if to point out that Remi is hugging another guy. Thankfully, Charlie manages to get her attention by asking her to hold up a banner. Not that she does a decent job. Limp armed, she lets it sag until Charlie pulls it back towards him to do it alone.
“A party it is then?” I say, when all I want to do is tuck Remi under my arm and retreat.
Leave it to me to avoid deep feelings only to acquire them for Remington James. Someone who is bound to keep me on my toes until the end of time.
A squeal comes from Natalie as she hops up and down. “I love parties.” That should’ve been said out of earshot. God, I’m an idiot sometimes. Charlie rolls his eyes at me behind her back. Yeah, I get it.
I’ve listened to Romantic Ruin’s music now. Before this summer I hadn’t. Some grudges are hard to let go of. Call me petty, but the way Grady turned on Wilder felt slimy. I’m big on loyalty. He made sure everyone knew not only about the visions Wilder had, but the fight he had with Sara. They were always fighting. That was nothing new. Grady turning on him was. It may be a big reason that so many people believe Wilder is responsible for my sister’s death.
It’s the reason I do.
His friendship with Sara didn’t make him my friend. In high school, anyone that ever aligned with Wilder became tainted by association. Not Sara. Her status as the girl others wanted to be or be like made her reputation untouchable.
The wrong things mattered to her. We were close in age, and I loved my sister, but her priorities were a problem.
Grady’s music, written by him, is really fucking good. I probably won’t tell him that, but I could pick out which songs are about Lake Hollow, his heartbreak… Wilder. It’s a map of his history which makes me like him a bit. Just a little.
Skip tries to direct what everyone is doing from the comfort of a shaded chair. This fucking guy. “The banner is off center by a few inches… move it to the left. A little more.”
Remi flicks off Skip while moving to help Charlie. Her jean cutoffs hug her ass, riding up slightly to show the curve of her bottom. Instant hard on. Her bouncing on my dick last night in my hammock under a full moon played on repeat all day in my mind. I can picture where I put my name in Sharpie over her hip bone. Mine. Until my last breath, mine. Charlie missed out. He would’ve been there instantly if his parents weren’t trying to sort Mitchell out.
But our alone time is treasured.
Nuzzled together sticky with sweat, spent, words of love whispered. I could do that every night.