6. Lucy
I gatheredup my papers and computer and headed towards the front. Stumbling out from behind my table, my heart struggled to regulate itself from that wink of his.
Sawyer Banks.
I had always known of the Banks family and their lake house to be the house filled with people who had deep pockets and shallow hearts. They brought their mess and mayhem from the city and left when they got bored. They’re the kind that had loud parties in the summer months and then their place was suddenly vacant for the remainder of the year. The town as a collective would have to spend a week or two after the fact recuperating from the headache they inflicted.
The family was nothing more than the kind of people we created stories about because we knew nothing of them. Cleaning ladies and landscapers were at the property more than the actual family was. We conspired about how many kids they truly had, or how many wives. Seriously, there was nothing to know about them beyond a simple Google search.
After a few passing seconds, the dark-haired server snuck back in after just leaving and retied her apron around her waist. I slid my ticket and credit card along the countertop. “Hey, are you okay?”
My server Cherry was rubbing the shoulder of the one who was being harassed, though she shrugged her off. “I’m totally fine. That’s sort of his thing? If his thing is being a complete tool.” She said it nonchalantly as if that happens regularly.
“Which it is!” Cherry chimed in.
“Is he an ex-boyfriend or just not your type?”
“The latter. I don’t date bigots, blockheads, or boys.” She let out a humorous scoff and then reached her hand out towards me. “Hey, I’m Mel. Thanks for checking on me.”
“Of course. I’m Lucy,” I said, shamefully disengaged. I couldn’t help but look out the windows and through the trees trying to find Sawyer as she closed out my tab.
“I’m sorry about Sawyer,” Mel said pointing in the direction that he stormed off in. “He’s not usually so… awkward.”
I waved my hand over her comment.
Awkward was not the first thought that came to mind, though I don’t know what did. I wasn’t used to that level of confidence without it being repulsive in return. I had fallen immune to arrogance from people thinking their pending medical degree was enough for me to fall head over heels for them. In retrospect, it only drove me away.
But Sawyer wasn’t driving me away. I was infatuated, almost. And infatuation was not on the to-do list I had written up at the airport. And here I am obsessing, replaying yet another encounter with him over in my head.
Did I seem too open to talking to him? Maybe I should have played hard to get, make him work for it. But that’s not me. Or possibly it’s the complete opposite and he thought I was too reserved, too standoffish. That’s not me, either. Eh, whatever. I could not start obsessing over this. I had to distract myself by zeroing in on Gus’ grill and all of the evident changes surrounding me.
If the outside didn’t look relatively the same, I would have thought I was in a completely new establishment. The changes were polarizing. I dragged my hand up and down my opposite arm from the chill that traveled through my body—the blanket of warmth of Gus’ now felt flimsy and worn through.
They had ripped up the carpeting, revealing natural concrete flooring. And instead of the larger-than-life strips of overhead lighting, low strands with large bulbs hung above the bar, and old, industrial sconces were drilled into the walls. It was overall dimly lit and grungy. But the natural light from the windows still gave it that cozy feel I am so familiar with.
“I gotta get to cleaning up the remnants of the lunch rush, but hey,” Mel gives me a single nod before walking away, “I hope to see you around this summer.”
She placed a receipt on top of my card even though she never once picked it up. Stamped across the top it read PAID IN FULL. When I turned to correct the mistake, she was lost in the crowd, and Cherry was back to slinging drinks and taking orders.
I tucked the receipt between the pages of my notebook and reached into my bag for loose change. I pulled out the only cash I seemed to have on me and stuck it under the stapler beside the register. I knew it wasn’t the whole bill, but at least it covered the pie and a tip.
I pushed through the front door, letting the rattling of the overhead bell ring through my body. I watched as Sawyer and his dog sped through the water toward their white dock on the other side of the lake. His pup jumped out before the motor even shut off.
Instead of heading through the hillside and back to the cottage, I perched myself on the weathered picnic table that I spent many hours on before. A pair of blue jays intertwined with each other, chirping away excitedly.
“It’s like no time has passed.” I heard a deep mumble approaching behind me. I was met with icy blue eyes when I craned my head around. I found comfort in them, the way he could look at me and I’d feel safe instantaneously. “Hi, darlin’, how have you been?”
I stood up to meet him with a hug. “Hi, Gus,” I said over his shoulder.
Hugging Gus, I was officially home.
“Let me be honest with ya right off the bat, I did see you in here earlier. Didn’t know if that was really you, still can’t believe that it is. It spooked me so bad I didn’t know what I could’ve said. Still don’t, I suppose…” Silence filled the space between us as we pulled away from our hug.
He didn’t know what to say?! I didn’t know what to say. I left. I never called, I never wrote. Nothing. Do I say that I am sorry for never visiting? Because I am.
We sat down side by side, looking out over the water. The ripples on the top surface of the lake and the rustling of the trees from the early summer breeze were centering, and boy did I need to be centered right about now.
“What are you doing here, kid?” He stared at me like he was trying to find the answers behind my eyes.
“Thought I’d take a little vacation,” I nervously chuckled.
He looked at me in a way that let me know he wasn’t buying my bullshit. He never has.
I let out a deep sigh, then blurted out, “I’m here to sell the cottage,” as if keeping anything from Gus was impossible. Maybe because it was. When I had finally made the decision, the first person I wanted to run it by was him. Half of the wear and tear on the cottage’s floorboards was put there from his heavy work boots.
There were many times I wanted to call him up, but couldn’t, because I didn’t want to hear his voice crack from hurt or the silence grow louder out of anger. I knew I’d change my mind in an instant if he gave me any inkling that I shouldn’t sell.
Gus rolled his shoulders back, sitting straight as an arrow. I felt the pads of my fingertips break out in a sweat. He placed his hand on top of mine that was resting between us on the table and gave it a squeeze. The floodgates opened and tears sprinted down my cheeks.
Sitting beside him made everything real. Everything that I had left behind and had tried to forget for almost a decade was still there, it still existed, and leaving never erased it as I had hoped.
He exhaled. “I figured that would happen eventually.”
His comfort and presence brought me back to the early mornings and late afternoons when we’d sit at this very table. And on the weekends, he would come over and play card games with Tiffany and me and somehow became the board game champion of 2012.
I must’ve been struck with the flu that weekend, or something like that. A rare kind. I swear it’s the only reason. I’m sure of it. Otherwise, I would have been crowned.
He and Leanne sat at our dining room table every Sunday night for family dinners and we’d take staycations by the harbor. It was rare if my spare time wasn’t spent with at least one of them. I asked him why they never spent time with their kids or grandkids. You know, their real family. They laughed it off and simply said, “You guys are our real family,” and left it at that. It made enough sense to me.
“You’re not mad?” I finally asked.
“You will always do what you think is best, bud,” he rubbed the center of my back.
I wiped away a straggling tear and collected myself.
“I figured there was no better time than now. Close one chapter to start a new one, and all of that.” Deflecting as I do best, I let out a strangled laugh. “It’s not a big deal, really. It will be fun, I bet.”
Yeah, if fun meant not being able to find a realtor and having no game plan for the first time in my life. His face was filled with sorrow.
“I have noticed there have been some magic landscaping fairies at the cottage, though. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” I continued, nudging my elbow into his side playfully to lighten the mood.
“That garden wasn’t just hers. It was her. When I saw the flowers wilt, the memory of her started to wilt, too. And I wasn’t going to let that happen.”
Fuck, how poetic. There goes the waterworks again.
“She and Tuck were my best friends. But they were family. You’re family, you know that.”
“Look, I’m sor?—”
“Don’t. ” He angled himself toward me and pointed a finger in my face. “Tiff would’ve haunted you if you didn’t go off to college and just sulked around Rider. Besides, how was your graduation, kid?”
“You remembered.”
He remembered. Of course, he did.
He shrugged. “Stop by this weekend, I have a little gift waiting for you.”
I wiped away a straggling tear and repositioned myself on the tabletop. “Okay, enough about me. Let’s talk about The Hideout, shall we?” I raised an eyebrow at him. “What’s with all the changes? It has a name?! I never thought I’d see the day.”
He shook his head, letting out a shallow snort. He shifted his attention to Sawyer throwing the ball to his dog across the lake. He nodded his head in their direction. “It’s all him. A good kid, that one. He’s really making something out of what was almost nothing.” When I didn’t respond, he continued, “Sawyer bought it a couple of years back.”
“That was your whole heart.”
“It still is, always will be. I’m still schlepping around those tables when I feel like it. I just couldn’t do the business side of things anymore. Leanne and I started it all up back in the late seventies. She liked all the logistics, the bossing of people around before she got bored of it.” he chuckled. “She stayed home, baked her little heart away, while I came here to work. She was ready to slow down a lot sooner than I was. But not even Hummingbird Lake could come between me and my lady.”
A true testament to his love for her, because I know that Hummingbird Lake is pretty high up there.
“What did he do? Pay you a million bucks? Blackmail you? What would a guy like him want with a place like that.” My voice got quieter with the last question. I trailed my finger around in circles, tracing a knot in one of the wood panels. Key lime pie and a polite conversation with Sawyer didn’t change the fact that this place, The Hideout or whatever, was Gus’.
He looked at me blankly.
“No offense,” I winced and bowed my head.
“He isn’t like the rest of ‘em at all.”
Even from this side of the lake, I had a clear shot. I followed the way that he moved, the way that he smiled. His short sleeves were cuffed at the hem, hugging his biceps tight but his shirt moved loosely around him. He is definitely not stiff and stone-faced like the rest of his family. I suppose I had to give credit where credit was due. If Gus opened his heart, and his crowning achievement, to him, then maybe he wasn’t half bad.
I don’t remember him around much when I was younger. I guess they’re not memorable when they all look the same. They had chiseled bodies covered in tanning oil and their hair was styled perfectly, despite being out by the water all day.
He looked nothing like that.
His hair was messy, and his jeans were ripped at the knee.
There was a ruggedness about him.
So much had changed since I last stood along this lake. Now I worry that I don’t know it, or the people, like I used to.