SEVEN
Cade
The human hemorrhoid strikes again.
How does he always manage to pop up at the most inconvenient time? What’s he even doing awake this early? I couldn’t get him on the job site before the clock struck double digits but suddenly he’s up with the sun?
“If you’re about to kiss my fiancée, I am so kicking your ass.”
He marches towards us, hands balled into fists, not because he thinks his engagement is in any way real, but because it’s me about to lock lips with the woman who’s supposed to be his. In his skewed view of the world, I take everything from him.
“Hold me back, Kelly, before I do something to my cousin I’m gonna regret.” He stops walking when Rayne doesn’t put herself between us to break up the fight. “I swear to god, Kell, I’m gonna hurt him.”
“Still not Kelly,” she grumbles, and even though she’s clearly pissed, her growl is the cutest thing ever. All I can picture is her doing that on top of me before nibbling on my ear.
Oh great, now I’m about to fight Georgie with a raging boner. If he runs at me I’m going to accidentally joust him out of his shoes.
“Your fiancée’s name is Rayne,” I say calmly, knowing raised voices only rile him up, like a rambunctious puppy.
“I thought we were using your real name,” he tries to whisper in Rayne’s direction but he has the subtlety of a nailgun in an elevator.
“Rayne is my real name, you just keep getting it wrong.”
“Oh, huh. Probably because it’s a stupid name. Why did I think it was Kelly? She musta been the chick I bagged last night. Vacation sex is the nastiest form there is, am I right?”
He puts his hand up for a high five she doesn’t give him, for obvious reasons, rolling her eyes in my direction because this idiot seems to have forgotten I’m standing here. Maybe I was too still for too long and in those two seconds, he forgot.
“Vacation sex with my fiancée,” he corrects with the grace of a squirrel who gorged itself on fermented fruits. “In the tent. Not the patio of a rental downtown. Damn I’m on fire.”
“It’s called chlamydia,” Rayne grunts with a full body shudder.
“I thought it was Rayne. How the hell am I supposed to keep up with all these changes? You need to pick a name and stick with it, preferably not one that sounds like an STI. Do I call you Clam for short? Or Midi? Kelly would be a lot easier if we’re gonna make this work.”
“Are you under the impression Cade can’t hear this conversation?” Rayne motions to me like an artist unveiling her masterpiece for the world to see. “Because I assure you, he can. Luckily he already knows the truth.”
“About the chlamydia?”
“About the fake engagement! He knows.”
“So I don’t need to kick his ass for trying to kiss my girl?
Oh thank god, last time I did that I was sore for a week.
He’s a gentle giant until you take a swing at him.
Hold on,” he says, directing his vitriol towards me.
“So you were checking her out yesterday, right in front of me? Bro, for all you knew, she was my actual fiancée. See, you’re always fucking with my life. ”
“George-”
“It’s Giovanni, don’t try to undermine me.”
“Giovanni, it’s not like that. We met the other day on the pier. The story she used for how you two met, that was actually us.”
Underneath all the bravado, there’s a real person in there. I see him occasionally, glimpses of a vulnerable side that disappear quicker than his frosted tips the second he realized they’d gone out of style.
He’s always been like this, there really isn’t much substance, but we essentially grew up together and he can tell how I feel about Rayne, even if he doesn’t understand it.
“Dude, are you actually catching feelings for Kelly?”
“Oh my god, still not Kelly!” she groans, kicking up a pillar of dust from her outburst of angry foot stomping.
“Sorry, Chlamydia. Damn, don’t bite my head off. I don’t remember names of chicks I’m not sticking dick to. Or the ones I do. Can I get an amen?”
“What you’re doing for her,” I say softly, ignoring his comment right along with his fist waiting for someone to bump it, “paying off the loans on the campground, even if it is for selfish reasons, that’s really admirable of you.”
He pulls out his phone, eyes squinting like he’s staring at the sun. “Can you spell that?”
“It’s a really good thing you’re doing, even if it does involve deceiving your parents into giving you a buttload of money. At least it’s helping someone other than yourself.”
“So you’re not gonna out us just to embarrass me like you always do?”
It’s not worth arguing, I’d have more success debating politics with an alley cat.
He’ll always think I fired him for my own personal amusement, and our family will continue to push that narrative.
I’ll never get credit for all the times I saved him from embarrassment, I just got labeled a buzzkill.
Over time I learned to accept that’s just the way it was always going to be.
If all those moments led us here, where I get to run a business, living on the road, doing something I love, while meeting the girl of my dreams, I don’t mind being the bad guy.
Every minute with Rayne makes every year I spent dealing with my cousin more than worth it.
“I’ll play along in any way you need, as long as it saves her campground.”
Her fingers find mine in the space between us, making me wish I was the one with the trust fund. I’d hand it all to her in a heartbeat, which should be a scary thought considering we just met, but it isn’t.
If I hadn’t put so much money back into the business, money that could have gone into my pocket, we wouldn’t need to keep up the charade. I’d be able to pay off the debt her parents fell into, plus the student loans she should have had forgiven, as promised.
I hate that people like Rayne suffer while George gets everything handed to him and appreciates none of it. He hated that he had to work, even the minimal amount he did, while I was grateful Uncle Bobby gave me an opportunity.
If I’d been less responsible and not bought the equipment we needed to make our jobsites safer, Rayne wouldn’t need to pretend to be my cousin’s fiancée. She could actually be mine.
It’s way too soon to be thinking things like that but it’s the equivalent of telling your brain not to think about pizza. I can’t stop wishing that ring on her finger was from me.
Spending the entire night talking didn’t change my mind, it only made me fall harder.
The campground is quiet as we sneak into our tents, the sounds of songbirds greeting the sun loud enough to disguise our footsteps.
Not that Georgie’s matter, if everyone knew he was sneaking back in after a night of getting laid by women other than his fake fiancée, they’d all give him the high fives he didn’t get from us.
It won’t be long until the sun pokes through the treetop canopy, waking the family hours before any of them would normally be up. Except Uncle Bobby, who was probably tapping his watch down on the shore, sipping his black coffee, wondering what the hold up could be.
I crawl into my tent alone, wishing Rayne didn’t have to slink into the fart chamber with my always classy cousin. How has he slept with more women than I’ve ever spoken to?
My head hits the pillow, weighed down with dreams of a future that don’t seem nearly as distant as they once did.
“You gettin’ up anytime soon? You’re gonna sleep the day away, princess.”
Uncle Bobby? His chubby cheeks jiggle as he unzips my tent enough to pop his head in. Shit, did I fall asleep? How long have I been out?
“We’re goin’ down to the beach. I saved you some of my famous corned beef hash since ya slept through breakfast. I hear you tapped some vacation tail on a patio, your favorite uncle’s gonna need some details. Come on, ya lazy bum. Hey, look at you still in yesterday’s clothes. Let’s hit the sand.”
“Okay, okay, I just need a second to wake up. I’ll be right there.”
I’m sure the rest of the family doesn’t care if I spend all day snoozing in the tent but Uncle Bobby’s always gone out of his way to include me.
He and Dad never got along, different upbringings, different views on the world.
He never understood what Mom saw in an uptight preppy from the Hamptons.
Hiding his excitement was impossible when we headed west that summer and never left.
Mom said he was using me for manual labor, but even if he was, it felt good to be wanted. He put us in the apartment over one of the garages he rented out around town, a far cry from the lavish condo I grew up in, but I didn’t mind because it reminded me of here.
The scent of hot pine under the summer sun greets me the second I step out of the tent. Ten year old me was right, this is where I’ve always belonged. With Rayne here and plenty of work lined up, I don’t see a reason to ever leave.
And even less of one now.
There she is, wading knee deep in the water, looking like she stepped right out of every fantasy I’ve ever had. Curves on full display in a two piece swimsuit, I’m stopped dead in my tracks by a million dirty thoughts that make it impossible to focus on anything but her.
As if she can sense my presence, she turns back to face me on the beach, shielding her eyes from the sun. The smile she can’t hide lures me closer, a fish on the hook she could toy with forever.
The mere sight of her in so little clothing has my blood pumping through my body like it’s being shot out of a firehose. Despite the distance, I swear I can hear her whisper hi directly in my ear and it’s doing nothing to help with the speed at which my blood is coursing through me.
She shields her hand from view against her chest, not letting anyone behind her in the water see she’s waving to me.
I move closer, in a trance, drawn to the bead of water dribbling down her chest, picking up speed in her cleavage, then rolling slowly over her stomach, disappearing in her belly button. I can’t remember wanting anything more than I want to retrace that water droplet’s path with my tongue.
Why did I put on swim shorts? I didn’t think this through.
I’m so hard I could be used as a towel rack and the second I move, everyone’s going to know.
Half my family’s eyes are on me, awkwardly shuffling down the beach like it’s normal to hold a folded towel in front of your crotch while walking like you’ve got an egg squeezed gingerly between your butt cheeks.
What do I do? Do I concentrate on Aunt Marie nearly spilling out of a one piece she should have retired at the turn of the millennium? Or Uncle Bobby’s chest hair floating around him like a tail of seaweed?
Nothing’s working, I keep looking back at Rayne. And when I try closing my eyes, I’m picturing her wearing that but right in front of me, close enough to touch, and it’s got me needing a bigger towel to conceal what’s going on here.
If I can just make it to the water, no one will know, unless someone grabs it thinking it’s a pool noodle.
My feet are in the wet sand now, this is the end of the line and my problem’s not going away.
Uncle Chester and his booger eating wife are tongue kissing by the dock some of my cousins are jumping off and even that’s not enough to have me swimming in Lake Flaccid.
Yes, she chews on her own boogers like they’re gummy bears.
Not that it’d be any better if they were someone else’s.
I wonder if she chews on his as a form of foreplay.
Son of a bitch, if that didn’t put the flagpole at half mast, nothing will, not with Rayne so close. Not wearing that.
“Stop being such a pansy and jump in,” one of my cousins shouts from the dock, Lazy Rick, I think. “We’re gonna get a game of water bolleyball going.”
Yes, he pronounces it with a B and no he doesn’t have a speech impediment, just an IQ so low you’d think it was doing the limbo.
I can’t put it off any longer so I turn to the beach and lay out my towel, so close to the water a wave from a passing jet ski could submerge it with ease.
Okay, staying low, hunched over, seems to be working, just pretending to feel the water with my fingers, like it might be too cold for me.
No shower could be too cold at this moment.
Rayne’s eyes widen, trained on my swim shorts, close enough to tell what’s going on down there. “What have you been doing?”
“Thinking about you,” I whisper back, as discreetly as possible before rolling into the shallow water like an aquatic Sonic the Hedgehog.
The blush that creeps over Rayne’s creamy skin, starting at her face before cascading down her curvy frame, has me dying to cool her off with my tongue. That thought isn’t helping the situation but it’s fine, the water’s doing its job concealing my problem downstairs.
“How am I supposed to concentrate on volleyball with you wearing that?” I ask quietly, my words skimming across the surface.
She smiles, bending over slowly to give me a better look at her cleavage. “I’m sorry, playing what now? I can’t say I’m familiar.”
“Bolleyball,” I correct, unable to make anything close to eye contact with her.
“Oh okay, now that I’m familiar with. Come get ’em. I mean, go get ’em, tiger. Try not to poke anyone’s eye out.”
My cousins are all jumping off the dock, a tangle of limbs trying to make it to the rest of the group first in order to pick teams. For a moment, amidst all the splashing and chaos, I feel like I’m eleven years old.
Out on the island with the other side of my family.
Not twenty years later but the following summer, that one that never came.
He promised he’d take me but somewhere between him not caring enough to keep in touch and Mom not wanting to send me across the country, it never happened.
I made something of myself, I moved on, so why does pain from a lifetime ago still hurt?
It doesn’t need to hurt anymore, I’m here now. Granted it’s with people I like a lot less, but the beautiful smile behind the veil of red hair lighting my world on fire is enough to make up for everything.
After holding my breath for so long, waiting for a life that was no longer mine to finally resume, I can breathe once again. I always knew I needed to come back, I just didn’t know why.
It was her.
Rayne’s been here every summer, waiting for me.
Waiting for life to truly begin.