Chapter 19 #2
Mia said goodbye to her Popsicle partner and gave me a look before jogging over to her sister. She was wearing tight black bike shorts that left nothing to the imagination.
“Shit. That isn’t her, is it?” Caleb asked.
I grunted in reply.
“Finally I lay eyes on the famous Mia. I feel like I already know her. You talked about her enough during our tours. Maybe I’ll say hi later.”
“Don’t bother,” I said.
Caleb raised his eyebrows. “Trouble in paradise?”
“There’ve been some complications.” The fiancé, for starters.
“I’m sure you can work it out over the Popsicle you promised her.”
Shit. She’d be back for her Popsicle.
“Start calling them numbers, Caleb!” As I slapped Caleb on the back and left him to the bingo game, I found myself wondering if we had any orange Popsicles in the freezer.
For the next half hour, I reviewed the rest of the summer’s reservations behind the front desk of the lodge. Everything looked up to date. There was mail to be opened—I tore open the new boat-registration decals for the resort’s fleet. I needed to go down to the marina and put them on the boats.
I glanced over at the nearly spotless front counter, noticing a stray cabin key. I picked it up and opened the safe we kept the keys in. A few were on the wrong hooks. I got to work reorganizing them.
Through the windows, I saw the grass needed to be mowed, the tips of the long strands waving in the breeze. The mower was sitting right next to the lodge with a full tank of gas.
I glanced down at one of our freezers.
The frozen treats looked low. I found the box of Popsicles and packaged ice-cream treats and restocked the few empty spots and pulled the orange ones to the top. Who liked orange anyway? It was arguably the worst flavor.
The screen door slammed into the doorframe.
I turned from the freezer and saw her. She was still wearing those fucking bike shorts and a tank top that I already knew didn’t have tags to irritate her skin.
“I’m here to collect my prize,” Mia said.
It took a minute for my ears to register her words—my eyes were too busy taking her in. I slid open the lid to the freezer, thankful for the cool air that rushed out. It was suddenly hot inside the lodge.
I picked out a Popsicle—an orange one from the top—and handed it to her.
She left me hanging there for a minute, with my arm outstretched, Popsicle in my hand, before she finally took it from me.
Her fingers touched my hand briefly, and I quickly pulled away, putting my hand inside the pocket of my shorts.
Mia ripped open the wrapper and pulled out the Popsicle. “You remembered,” she said before she put the Popsicle to her lips. They were full and a dusty pink color. They had been soft that night when I had wiped off a bit of that blow-job shot her friends had ordered for her.
She held the Popsicle there, against her pursed lips, before she opened her mouth, slowly sliding it inside.
Fuck. I shouldn’t be watching this. I turned around and walked back to the safety of the front desk.
Behind it, I could hide what was rising in my pants.
Over what was happening to a Popsicle. This was ridiculous.
The screen door slammed shut again. I stood up, surprised to see my grandma out and about.
Usually about now she started sundowning, a term I learned in my research about dementia.
Late afternoons and evenings were hard for her.
She became unsettled and agitated. Chloe was behind her.
She raised her arms, mouthing I don’t know to me.
“Mia! Is that you?” Grandma shuffled over to where Mia was standing, sucking on her Popsicle. She released her hold on the orange ice, a popping sound coming from her mouth. I paused, taking in what was happening in front of me.
Grandma had just remembered Mia.
“Yes, it’s good to see you again, Betty. Yesterday when I saw you—”
“I’ve got something for you, Mia.” Grandma walked over and took Mia’s hand in hers. “Wait, let me go get it for you.” She made her way across the lodge through the door marked Private. It was the entrance to her and my grandpa’s cabin.
“What in the world?” Chloe said, looking at Mia. “Betty recognizes you?”
“Of course she does. I’ve known her for most of my life.” Mia popped the Popsicle back into her mouth, rolling it over her tongue.
“No, I mean…she hardly recognizes anyone anymore. Not even her husband or Bower.” They both looked at me, confusion splayed across both of their faces, for different reasons.
“Chloe, this is Mia, and Mia, this is Chloe.” Both girls glanced over at each other as I introduced them.
“The Mia?” Chloe waddled over to Mia, pulling her into a hug as close as the baby in her belly would allow. “I feel like I already know you.”
Mia pulled back and raised an eyebrow at her.
“From what Caleb told me, of course. This one doesn’t tell me much.” She motioned back at me.
Mia looked confused as ever. Her lips were a mix of orange from the Popsicle and their natural pink color. Like a sunset over the lake.
I shook my head quickly. “Chloe’s husband, Caleb, works for the resort,” I said.
“And they served together for five years. Don’t let her think you divulge your love life to random employees, Bower.”
A sudden look of amusement flashed through Mia’s features. “His love life, huh?”
Ah, fuck. What had Caleb told Chloe? She looked between me and Mia a couple of times before answering. Maybe it was the way I was clenching my jaw, but she seemed to pick up on the tension.
“Caleb’s told me stories Bower shared about you and him growing up here,” Chloe said quickly. “It sounded magical.”
“You have no idea.” Mia was responding to Chloe but looked at me when she spoke. “They were the best weeks of my life.”
It was suddenly quiet in the lodge. The hum of the coolers and the distant sounds of laughing children were the only noise in the room.
“Um, I should go check on Betty,” Chloe said. She waddled over to the door Grandma had gone through moments before.
“Is Betty coming back?” Mia asked.
“No, Mia. I don’t think so.” Chloe made her way through the doorway, turning her head back toward the lodge. “It was nice meeting you,” she said before the door latched behind her.
“Is something going on?” Mia asked. “I don’t mean to intrude, but something’s off.”
I took my hat off my head and ran my fingers through my hair, letting my fingernails drag across my scalp. With my hair pulled back, I replaced the hat on my head.
I hated explaining what was going on. I had to do it occasionally with guests who’d known my grandma for years.
The reactions I got were worse than finding the right words.
Some were sympathetic, which was depressing for everyone.
Some reactions weren’t realistic about the situation, and they’d say things like Just stay positive!
It could be worse. Or the worst one of all, Things happen for a reason.
For what reason would my sweet grandma and everyone around her have to suffer through the throes of dementia?
Let me know when you find the fucking reason, I wanted to say in response. I’d love to know what it is.
“My grandma’s sick,” I started. “She has dementia. Middle stage right now. I’m surprised she recognized you.”
“Oh my god, Bower, I had no idea.” Mia leaned over the desk, putting her warm hand on top of mine. I kept my hand still, hoping she wouldn’t remove hers. “That must be really hard.” It was hard. Mia looked at me with her big brown eyes, giving me their full attention.
“It’s been the hardest on my grandpa. She hardly recognizes him anymore.”
“Ugh, poor Gill.” Mia squeezed the top of my hand with her fingers. “I’m here for you guys, no matter what.”
With a twist of my wrist, I flipped my hand over underneath hers. I needed to feel her hand in mine.
Mia looked down at our hands, our palms touching.
Eyes wide, she looked back up at me, not knowing what to say.
She didn’t need to say anything else. She’d reacted to the news of my grandma’s illness better than I’d expected.
Actually, I should have expected nothing less from Mia.
She’d been through hard times herself. Mia knew what to say and how to say it in a way that wasn’t sympathetically dismissive or lacking empathy.
A skill gained from growing up with parents who didn’t fully accept her and her differences.
It seemed like Mia had made it through the worst, though. She looked good. Put together. Did her fiancé have something to do with it? She was even wearing sandals, which was shocking.
“I should apologize.” Mia looked down at our hands before she lifted her head up and looked into my eyes. “I remember everything you said that night.”
That night outside the bar—the one I couldn’t stop thinking about.
“I was so overwhelmed…I didn’t know what to do.”
I wrapped my fingers around her hand. It fit perfectly in mine, just like it had when we were young.
“I should’ve found you the next day. I shouldn’t have left without saying goodbye,” she continued.
Holding hands felt right, just as it had all those years ago. My thumb grazed over her bare fingers. Then I realized I was holding her left hand. She’s not wearing her engagement ring.
“The chance, Bower…” she said. Her voice wobbled a bit. She waited until our eyes connected. “I’ll take it.”
Her words flooded my body, drowning me and my voice. I let out a few garbles from my throat before coughing to clear it.
Mia pulled her hand out of mine and handed me her used Popsicle stick for me to dispose of. She winked at me—she fucking winked—before turning around and walking out the door of the lodge.
I stood there, dumbstruck, for a couple seconds before the screen door slammed, breaking me out of my stupor. This was the same girl who’d left me without a response two weeks ago, now telling me she wanted to take a chance?
The same girl who’d been engaged two weeks ago, ready to marry someone else.
Her forwardness was very unlike someone who was engaged…and she wasn’t wearing her ring. Had she left her fiancé? Maybe she was just resting her finger. That ring had to be heavy to wear every day.
If she was now single, I couldn’t imagine what’d happened in the last two weeks to change her mind.
Not that I even wanted to think about her with another man.
I wanted to live in this bubble—the one where Mia took a chance with me, went all in.
If she really was single now, we had the week to live in the bubble… until Saturday, when it would pop.
Mia had always had this effect on me. It was so easy to get wrapped up with her—she was one of the few people that knew me—had known me before everything went to shit.
If she was giving me a chance, I’d take it, but I didn’t want her to see everything I was now.
Fort Knox was still standing strong, although it was beginning to crumble in a few locations.