Chapter 40
40
Monday, August 11
21 Days Left at the Lake
It’s the longest, fastest week of summer. Each day begins with Charlie teaching Bennett and me how to water-ski. She gets up on day two while I continue to face-plant. When I finally manage it, I shout with joy, then go skidding across the water like a skipped stone. Charlie takes us on boat rides in the afternoon, and sometimes Nan joins. When Bennett complains about the cottage’s DVD selection (heavy on Bond films), Charlie brings over a box of old horror movies from his basement. I question whether The Blair Witch Project is appropriate for a thirteen-year-old but am met with three sets of rolling eyes. Sometimes Charlie joins us, and he and Bennett have fun trying to pry the pillow from my face during the scary parts.
The days pass without a moment for Charlie and me to be alone. The need to feel his lips on mine, to taste him, to press my nose into his neck and inhale is a specific brand of torture I’ve never experienced. Sometimes I catch Charlie looking at me, and I think he feels it, too. One night, when Bennett has fallen asleep on the couch, he and I creep out to the screened porch, and I twist myself around him like climbing ivy. But as soon as our lips meet, I hear Bennett shift inside, and we separate with comical speed. I cannot get busted by my niece.
“You sit over there,” Charlie says, pointing to one end of the sofa and then the other. “And I’ll sit here. I need a few feet of space between us. I don’t trust myself not to touch you.”
The way he’s staring, eyes glinting like emeralds, ignites warmth in my belly.
“Don’t be dramatic,” I tell him.
We nestle at opposing ends of the sofa, a blanket over our legs. I have the feeling that we go together, fit together, despite our differences. He makes me bolder, and I make him softer. He makes Bennett bolder, too.
Bit by bit, Charlie manages to coax her out of her cocoon, either by teasing me or making fun of himself. Each hour, she unfurls a little more. One day, when I’m bringing lunch down to the dock from the cottage, I hear her telling Charlie about a boy she thought liked her until she saw him at the movie theater with someone else. The kid ignored Bennett when she said hi. They don’t see me, so I stay very still as Charlie gives her a short speech about not putting up with crap from guys.
“My mom always said that trust and friendship come first,” Charlie tells her. “And it doesn’t sound like he’s been a good friend,” he adds.
Bennett sighs. “No, he’s been a bit of a jerk.”
“If he’s smart, he’ll come around. And if he doesn’t, he’s not smart enough for you.”
She nods, and I begin to make my way to them.
“One quick swim before lunch?” he asks her. “I bet I can make a bigger splash than you.”
She smiles up at him. “You’re on.”
They both charge to the end of the dock in their bathing suits and T-shirts, tucking their legs up as they cannonball into the water. They come up laughing. Charlie’s eyes meet mine, and I stumble.
“Get in here, Alice,” Charlie calls. “Biggest splash you can make.”
“I’m good. I don’t want to get my hair wet.”
The two of them give each other a look, and then Charlie swims to the ladder and pulls himself out. He stalks toward me. I set the tray of sandwiches and iced tea down.
“No,” I say, seeing the look on his face. “Don’t even think about it.”
With a grin, Charlie scoops me up. “Too late.”
“I hate you,” I say as he carries me to the edge of the dock, my arms around his neck.
He smiles at me, water running down his face in glistening rivulets. “Nah,” he says. “You love me.”
And then he drops me in the lake.
That evening, after we FaceTime my mom and Bennett gives her a detailed play-by-play of how she got up on water-skis, my niece and I arrive at Charlie’s house in our pajamas with bags of chips, candy, soda, our toothbrushes, and more books and magazines than we can possibly read in one night. Charlie has the tree house all set up for us, with two sleeping bags and pillows on an inflatable mattress pushed under the window so we can sleep under the stars (number seventeen).
Bennett marvels at the view, the twinkle lights, and the arched doorway, and Charlie looks like he might float away with pride. He leaves us to ourselves. Bennett and I eat and talk and read and then eat and read some more until she can’t keep her eyes open. I tuck the sleeping bag around her shoulders and quietly sneak out of the tree house with my toothbrush.
The house is in darkness, but Charlie has left the porch light on and the door unlocked. I sprained my right wrist in a waterskiing mishap this afternoon, so I’m brushing my teeth with my left hand. I hear the floor creak behind me. I meet Charlie’s eyes in the mirror. He leans on the frame. No shirt. Pajama bottoms.
“Did I wake you?” I whisper, even though there’s no one here but the two of us.
He shakes his head. “I was watching TV in the basement. I heard you come in. Where’s Bennett?”
“Sleeping.”
“Do you need help?” he asks, stepping inside the bathroom.
“With brushing my teeth?”
His gaze lands on the smudge of toothpaste that’s landed on my top.
I scowl. “It’s hard with my left hand.”
Charlie holds out his palm, and I raise my eyebrows. “Seriously?”
“I’m always serious.”
I hesitate for a moment, then hand Charlie the toothbrush. I stare at him, suddenly feeling more vulnerable around him than I have in a long time.
“Open up,” he says, gently taking my chin in his hand. He starts with the bottom molars, completely focused on doing a good job. When his gaze flicks to mine, an all-too-short shock of green, my chest squeezes. Charlie Florek is brushing my teeth, and it’s possibly the most intimate experience of my life. I grip the counter behind me because my legs are beginning to hollow out.
“You know what I was just thinking?” he says, voice low.
I shake my head.
“After tonight, we will have finished everything on your list.”
My eyes go wide.
“As long as you’ve taken one good photo, it’ll be done,” he says. “Minus the backflip.”
“Wow,” I try to say, and Charlie smiles.
“Spit,” he says. And I do.
He takes my chin again, moving to the upper teeth.
“I missed you last week.” His voice is rough, scraping down my body like a calloused palm. He’s still concentrating on the task at hand, and I can’t reply. “I couldn’t wait to get back. I didn’t stop the entire drive here. I felt like I’d left my family behind when I was in the city.” His eyes find mine. “You’re important to me, Alice. I just wanted to say that in case you don’t know. This year has been hard, and I’m not sure how I would have coped without you this summer.”
I let Charlie finish, and take a moment to wash my face with cool water. I meet his eyes in the mirror. “You’re important to me, too.”
With a hand on my shoulder, Charlie turns me to face him. He tucks a stray curl that’s fallen out of my bun behind my ear.
“I don’t want the summer to end,” I tell him.
“We can pretend it won’t.” His tone is casual, but his gaze is heavy.
The air shimmers around us. We stare at each other for one charged breath, and then we collide like knights on a battlefield. We kiss and bite and taste each other. Our mouths are ravenous. And so are Charlie’s hands, which move over every inch of skin he can find. Mine track his ridges and valleys. My shirt is off. His hands are on my waist, lifting me up. I sit on the counter, legs spread, reaching for his pants as he’s sliding off my pajama shorts.
He swears, bringing his mouth to my chest. I lean my head back against the mirror, naked. He curses again. “I missed you so much, Alice.”
We freeze at the sound of Bennett’s voice.
“Auntie Ali? Charlie?”
“One sec,” I call. “Just brushing my teeth.”
I rush to get my jammies back on, glaring at Charlie, who’s doing his best not to laugh.
My heart doesn’t return to a normal rate until Bennett and I are back in the tree house and she’s fast asleep. But then I remember Charlie’s voice.
I missed you so much, Alice.
My pulse begins to soar once more.