28. Summer
28
SUMMER
T he sound of gravel crunching under the car tires was the first thing I noticed as we pulled into the driveway of the lakefront cabin. Ava sat in the backseat, her face pressed to the window, Bunny clutched tightly in her arms.
“It’s so big!” she said, her voice filled with awe.
“It is,” I agreed, my chest tightening as I took in the rustic beauty of the cabin. It was nestled among tall pines, the shimmering blue lake just beyond the tree line. The cabin itself was charming—weathered wood, a wide porch with rocking chairs, and flower boxes spilling over with colorful blooms.
“It’s perfect,” Enzo said from the driver’s seat, his voice calm but tinged with excitement.
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure if he was talking about the cabin or the opportunity his mom had orchestrated for us. Elaine had insisted this getaway was exactly what we needed, and after much hesitation, I’d agreed. Now that we were here, the reality of spending three uninterrupted days together as a family was beginning to sink in.
Enzo opened Ava’s door, scooping her up with ease. She giggled, pointing toward the lake. “Can we go swimming, Enzo?”
“Not yet, kiddo,” he said, setting her down gently. “First, we have to check out the cabin and unpack.”
“Okay!” Ava said, bouncing on her toes as I grabbed her bag and mine from the trunk.
I trailed behind them as Enzo carried our things to the porch. He opened the door, and we stepped inside, the scent of cedarwood and fresh pine filling the air. The cabin was cozy but spacious, with a stone fireplace, large windows that let in the sunlight, and soft, inviting furniture.
“This is amazing,” I said softly, setting the bags down near the stairs.
Enzo turned to me, a small smile tugging at his lips. “It’s just a cabin, Summer.”
“It’s more than that,” I said, glancing at Ava as she darted from room to room, exploring every nook and cranny. “It’s…”
“A fresh start?” he offered.
I met his gaze, my breath catching for a moment. “Maybe.”
After unpacking and settling in, we gathered on the porch for lunch. The table was simple—sandwiches, chips, and lemonade—but Ava acted like it was a feast.
“This is the best lunch ever,” she declared, taking a big bite of her sandwich.
Enzo chuckled. “Glad you like it.”
Ava swung her legs under the table, her curls bouncing as she looked out toward the lake. “Can we go in the water now?”
“Not yet,” I said, laughing. “We just ate.”
“Soon?” she asked, her eyes wide with hope.
“Soon,” Enzo promised, ruffling her hair.
The afternoon was spent exploring. Enzo took Ava on a mini hike through the woods behind the cabin, showing her how to identify different trees and pointing out animal tracks. I followed at a slower pace, watching the two of them from a short distance.
Ava held Enzo’s hand tightly, her little feet hopping over roots and rocks as she peppered him with questions. “What kind of bird is that? Can we find a deer? Do you think Bunny would like camping?”
Enzo answered each question patiently, his voice calm and warm.
“Mommy, look!” Ava called, holding up a pinecone she’d found.
“That’s a good one,” I said, smiling.
“It’s Bunny’s new treasure,” she said seriously, tucking it into her small backpack.
Later, back at the cabin, Ava played on the porch while Enzo and I sat nearby, watching her as the sun began to dip lower in the sky.
“She’s having the time of her life,” Enzo said, his voice quiet.
“She is,” I said, a soft smile tugging at my lips. “Thank you for this.”
“For what?” he asked, glancing at me.
“For making her so happy,” I said, meeting his gaze.
“She makes it easy,” he said simply, his expression softening.
For a moment, we sat in silence, the sound of the wind rustling through the trees wrapping around us.
That evening, we made dinner together in the cabin’s cozy kitchen. Enzo insisted on doing most of the work, claiming it was his turn to cook. Ava helped by handing him ingredients and taste-testing the sauce.
“Perfect,” she declared after taking a tiny spoonful, earning a laugh from both of us.
We ate by candlelight at the dining table, the soft glow making the moment feel almost magical. Ava chattered happily about her day, her voice filling the space with warmth.
“I love it here,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “Can we stay forever?”
“Forever’s a long time, kiddo,” Enzo said, smiling.
“Okay, maybe just for a little while,” she said, giggling.
After Ava was tucked into bed, her soft snores drifting down the hallway, Enzo and I found ourselves back on the porch. The stars were bright above us, their light reflecting off the still surface of the lake.
“This feels… different,” I said softly, wrapping my arms around myself.
“It does,” he agreed, leaning against the railing.
I hesitated, searching for the right words. “It’s hard, letting myself believe this could work. That we could work.”
Enzo turned to face me, his expression earnest. “I know it’s scary, Summer. But I think we owe it to Ava—to ourselves—to try.”
His words hit me harder than I expected, and I looked away, blinking back tears. “What if we fail?”
“What if we don’t?” he countered gently.
I met his gaze, my chest tightening. “You make it sound so easy.”
“It’s not,” he said, stepping closer. “But I think it’s worth it.”
For a moment, the world seemed to shrink, the space between us charged with unspoken words and emotions.
“Goodnight, Enzo,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Goodnight, Summer,” he said, his voice soft but steady.
As I stepped inside and closed the door behind me, I couldn’t help but wonder if this vacation was more than just a family getaway.
Maybe it was the beginning of something new.