Chapter 13
13
Sunday, June 29
64 Days Left at the Lake
As if conjured by Heather’s will alone, an email from Elyse arrives the next morning. It’s a draft invitation for the opening of In (Her) Camera —she wants my opinion.
“What are you scowling at?” Nan asks from across the table.
“Nothing.”
She blinks at me over the rim of her glasses. “Alice. You are a wretched liar.”
I really am. “It’s just a message about the show.”
“I was thinking I’d prefer to come with you than stay here,” Nan says.
“All the driving on top of the event would be too much for you, Nan. Besides, I’d rather not leave the lake. You know I don’t love being in a crowd or making speeches.” Elyse has asked if I’d mind saying a few words at the reception.
Nan opens her mouth to respond but is cut off by a knock at the door.
It’s eight a.m., and the air is cool. Mist swirls over the lake and the stones on the walkway glisten with dew. There’s also a handsome man in a denim shirt on the doorstep. He has dark eyes, brown skin, a trim beard, a ballcap, and a pair of worn-looking steel-toed boots.
“Uh…hi?” I’m not my most eloquent when faced with gorgeous strangers first thing in the morning. I’m still in my jammies.
“I’m taking it that Charlie didn’t tell you I was coming by.” He has a grocery bag in one hand.
I shake my head, and he offers his free hand. “Harrison Singh. I’m one of Charlie’s buddies.”
“Alice Everly,” I say, taking his calloused palm. His grip is strong. Everything about him looks strong. What do they put in the water up here?
“Charlie got tied up with something this morning, so he asked me to run these out to you on my way to work.” He gestures to the black truck he’s arrived in. There are two end tables in the back.
“Oh. Thank you. I’m sorry he had you up this early,” I say, folding my arms over my chest. My skin is pebbling in the crisp air, and my shorts and cami are too skimpy for a stranger’s eyes. “It wasn’t urgent.”
“I don’t mind at all.” The smile Harrison gives me is shy but definitely interested . I’m not sure what to do with that and find myself blushing in return.
Harrison passes me the bag. “Charlie also wanted me to bring you these. He said you forgot them at the store yesterday.”
I peek inside. The bag is full of English cucumbers.
“What do you need all these cucumbers for?”
“I might whack Charlie over the head with one, for starters.”
Harrison gives me a puzzled look.
“I’m just kidding. He thinks he’s pretty funny, huh?”
“He does.” He shrugs. “And he is. Let me bring these in for you.”
I offer to help, but Harrison insists on carrying the tables into the living room. I introduce him to Nan, and she tries to get him to stay for coffee.
“I’d love to,” he tells her. “But my grandfather will rip into me if I’m late.”
“You work with your grandfather?” I ask.
“With my dad, too. We build houses.”
As we’re walking back to his truck, Harrison pauses, turning to me. “You’re here all summer?”
“Until the end of August.”
He nods slowly, his eyes catching on mine.
“Are you and Charlie…uh…dating?”
I make a face. “Not even close.”
“Maybe I’ll see you around, then? I’m usually at the Tavern on Thursday nights.”
“The Tavern?”
“You don’t know it? I thought you and Charlie were friends or something.”
I cackle at that. “We just met yesterday.”
“Oh. The way he spoke…” Harrison frowns, and it’s adorable on him. “I figured you knew each other well. Anyway, the Tavern is Charlie’s family’s restaurant. Or, it used to be. Charlie and Sam sold it a couple years ago.”
“Sam?”
“Charlie’s younger brother.”
“Ah.”
“I could take you sometime? Food’s good.”
“Like a date?” I want to be sure about what’s going on here. I’m wearing rumpled pajamas and my glasses. My hair is a hornet’s nest.
With a nervous laugh, Harrison rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah? Or not. We could just have a beer. No pressure, obviously.”
We stare at each other in awkward silence for a moment. I’m not sure why I’m hesitating. Harrison could be number five on my bucket list. He’s more than kissable.
“Maybe,” I say. “I’m a bit busy taking care of my grandmother right now, but I’ll think about it.”
Stedmans is a Barry’s Bay icon. It’s something like a general store—clothing, housewares, and office supplies on the main floor, and outdoor equipment and kids’ toys in the basement. We bought all our puzzles here the summer I was seventeen. It’s a rainy day, and it feels like half the town is inside, stocking up on beach towels and sweatshirts and board games. There is a trove of fabric in the back of the store, arranged by color, and florals galore—botanicals and calicos, ditsies and damasks.
“How are we going to choose?”
Nan narrows her eyes to assess the inventory. “Joyce loved blue.”
“How did she feel about toile?” I pull out a bolt with a royal-blue pastoral pattern.
“I don’t think she would have opposed, but I’m not sure it would suit the cottage.”
“Too fussy?”
She hums a yes.
In the end, we decide on a blue and cream Liberty-style print, with dashes of orange, yellow, and green, for the kitchen and bathroom curtains.
We spend the rest of the day measuring and cutting and laughing over my clumsy use of the sewing machine foot pedal as I wind thread around a bobbin. While Nan naps, I set up a makeshift art studio for myself in the boathouse loft. When she wakes, she makes me practice sewing in a straight line, over and over, on a cheap piece of remnant we bought for this very reason.
“Straight enough?” I ask, bringing it over to Nan for inspection. She’s resting in the armchair with her tea.
She peers at the stitching through her glasses, as if she’s Coco Chanel herself. “You’ve got it,” she says. “We’ll start the curtains tomorrow.”
Charlie: Harry asked me to put in a good word, so this is me putting in a good word.
Me: Noted.
Me: Strange that he thought your word would have sway with me.
Charlie: Strange that he didn’t listen when I told him you were a redhead with a big mouth.
Me: A big mouth and a lifetime supply of cucumbers. Thank you for that.
Charlie: A thank you? From Alice Everly? Whoa.
Charlie: No reply? It’s eleven at night. Surely you can make time for me.
Me: Time for what exactly? Don’t you have someone else to bother?
Charlie: Is this your roundabout way of asking whether I’m single?
Charlie: You disappeared again.
Me: Goodnight, Charlie.
Charlie: Sweet dreams, Alice.