Chapter Three #2
Becca gave a happy whoop and headed back to the tube. And when everybody who wanted to tube had, more than once, they dropped anchor and simply chilled. Some of them went swimming in the lake, or floated on a tube, while others stretched out to catch some rays. It was all wonderful.
“How are we doing?” Stevie asked softly, spreading her towel out on the lounge seat across from Rowan’s. Lizzie, Becca, and Jazzy were all in the water. Justine was stretched out in the back of the boat reading.
“I’m great. Haven’t felt this relaxed in a long time.” She shaded her eyes from the sun as she turned to look at Stevie. “Thanks for talking me into coming.”
“Welcome. I’m glad you did.” Stevie smiled at her as she slathered some sunscreen over her tattoos.
Her bathing suit consisted of a pair of navy-blue board shorts and a sports bra in bright lime green with a navy-blue abstract pattern on it.
Her blond hair was in wet spikes after her turn on the tube, and her sunglasses were wraparound.
Her body was lean and muscular, and she looked like the epitome of a surfer.
She let out a sigh of contentment as she lay back, and Rowan turned her attention to soaking up some sunshine.
It was late afternoon when they finally decided to head back to the house and start getting things ready for dinner.
Lizzie chugged them back to the dock, expertly parking up against it as Stevie hopped out with ropes to secure the boat.
Everybody grabbed bags and supplies, and as they headed up the hill to the house, a shout came down to them.
“Hey, you bitches! I drank all the beer!”
Rowan looked up as some of the others laughed and Becca called back, “You better not have!”
Claire had arrived. She stood at the edge of the deck, looking down at them, and as they climbed and the full deck came into view, Rowan stopped in her tracks at the sight of the second person, sitting in a chair, beer in her hand.
Rowan’s heart began to pound like it was trying to escape her rib cage.
Evie.
Jesus Christ, Evie was here. Rowan’s gaze snapped to Stevie, who looked just as stricken, so she knew it was as much a surprise to her.
Everybody tromped into the house to set down bags and put stuff away, and hugs went all around, though Rowan kept her distance. Evie met her eyes and gave a sad smile, mouthed a hi in her direction. Rowan swallowed the lump in her throat and gave her a nod.
God, why does she have to look so good?
It was the thought that kept flying around in her head, bouncing off the inside of her skull like a fly that couldn’t find its way out.
Evie was tall and lean, always had been, all long arms and legs.
She’d always kept her dark hair long, but it was shorter now, the ends just coming to the bottom of her neck, the sides tucked behind her ears.
No more cute ponytails for her, yet somehow, the new style suited her, framed her face nicely, made her big brown eyes more of a focal point, caused her to look slightly older and more sophisticated.
Stevie glanced at Rowan more than once, and she knew her friend was checking on her, taking her temperature, so to speak. At one point, she raised her light brows in clear question, and all Rowan could do was shrug.
Claire also glanced her way several times. Claire, who had been Evie’s best friend for years, and who Rowan always suspected might have harbored deeper feelings for Evie, though she had no proof of that.
“Dinner tonight is chicken on the grill,” Justine announced. “Everybody good with that?”
Murmurs of agreement went around the room as some people grabbed beers or cocktails and headed back out to the deck. That’s when Evie approached her.
“Hey,” she said softly as she got closer. She lifted a hand as if about to touch Rowan, then seemed to think better of it, and the hand dropped back down to her side. “How are you?”
Rowan tried to speak and ended up croaking like a bullfrog. With an internal sigh, she cleared her throat and tried again. “Great. I’m great. You?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Yeah.”
“You cut your hair.” She hadn’t meant to get personal, but the statement slipped out.
Evie’s hand went to the back of her neck, then tucked some hair behind her ear.
“Yeah, I did. It’s easier to deal with in the—” She stopped and wet her lips, then shrugged.
“It’s easier. And what about you? I heard about your accident.
Your head—” Again, she reached out like she was going to touch Rowan’s temple, then thought better of it. “Is it all right?”
Rowan nodded. “It’s okay. Lots of memory loss, but some of it’s coming back. Slowly.” And then her eyes welled up, much to her horror, and she cleared her throat again.
I don’t love you anymore.
“It’s good to see you,” she said quickly, then moved around Evie to the kitchen where Stevie stood with one of her NAs. She grabbed it and headed out to the deck.
There were multiple conversations going on, and she did her best to pay attention, figure out which one she could jump into, but her brain suddenly felt super fatigued, and she had trouble focusing on what any one person was saying.
Evie and Claire came out onto the deck, standing close to each other, and Rowan felt her stomach churn.
She turned and went back inside.
Justine was seasoning the chicken, and she glanced up at her. “Hey. You okay?”
“Give me something to do?” Rowan pleaded.
Justine held her gaze for a beat before pointing at the door to the pantry. “Salt potatoes are in there. Wanna get a bag started for me?”
“Absolutely.” She headed to the pantry, found four bags of potatoes, and grabbed one.
“I saw a giant pot down in that cupboard,” Justine said, pointing. “They should fit in that.”
Rowan got the pot out, set it in the sink, and turned the water on.
“You sure you’re okay?” Justine asked quietly, her gaze on the window that overlooked the deck.
“I didn’t know she’d be here,” Rowan said, her voice a whisper.
“Yeah, neither did I. I thought it was just gonna be Claire.”
Well. That made Rowan feel the tiniest bit better, knowing her friends hadn’t purposely blindsided her. “We broke up here.” Rowan hadn’t realized she was going to say it, but suddenly, the words were out and floating in the air between them. “Not here at this house, but here. At the lake.”
Justine nodded. “You did. A little over two years ago. We did a spring trip, just a handful of us, to do some wine tasting, shopping.”
Little pieces slid around in her head and clicked into place. “That’s right. It was just a weekend.” A couple quick flashes came and went, but nothing she could grasp. She turned the water off and lifted the pot to the stove.
“It was.” The platter of chicken seasoned and ready to go, Justine moved to the fridge and took out a huge salad.
She set it down, then stopped, palms on the counter, as if searching for the right words.
“Listen, no matter what, I’m really glad you’re here.
” She lifted her head and met Rowan’s gaze across the kitchen. “I’ve missed you.”
Rowan was touched, and again, had to swallow down an unexpected lump.
Indicating the pot, Justine said, “Set a timer for about twenty minutes once the water starts to boil, yeah?” And without waiting for a response, she took the chicken and headed out to the grill.
Rowan stood in the kitchen by herself, just her and the salt potatoes.
She tore the bag open, rinsed the potatoes clean, then plopped them into the big pot, along with the pouch of salt that came with them, and turned on the burner.
Then she dug around in a drawer until she found salad tongs.
She moved the big salad to the table, doing her best to keep herself busy so she could avoid the one thought that she knew would completely consume her if she wasn’t careful.
Evie was here.
There were eight more days to this vacation, and Evie was here.
Jesus Fucking Christ, how was she going to do this?
That night around the campfire was a lot different than the night before, at least for Rowan. Gone was the relaxed fun she’d had making s’mores. No, tonight was all about tension and fatigue and confusion. She was seriously thinking about asking Stevie if she could take her home tomorrow.
“Anybody up for doing lunch in town tomorrow?” Stevie asked, as if reading Rowan’s mind and shutting her thoughts down immediately.
Murmurs and nods went around the campfire, a couple people signaling they were in. Rowan was about to say yes when Evie—and then Claire—both nodded.
Looks like I’ll be staying here.
She didn’t say it out loud, but come tomorrow, she’d find something else to do.
“Let’s make sure we hit a couple wineries at some point this week,” Justine said with a glance Rowan’s way.
She nodded and smiled back at her. “I’m in. Definitely.” Yes, she was still on some medication, but her ex who’d broken her heart—which she didn’t remember and had had to relive—had just shown up. She was pretty sure a glass of wine, or seven, was warranted and probably wouldn’t kill her. Probably.
“So, Evie, how’s the job going?” That was Becca asking. She sat two chairs down from Rowan, across the fire from Evie.
“Oh. Good. Good. Not bad.” Evie nodded and then sipped from her beer. She’d been going slowly with the drinking, Rowan had noticed. This was only her second or third beer all day; she’d had water with dinner.
Rowan remembered that Evie worked for an advertising firm in their graphics department, so she’d clearly been there for more than three or four years. She also remembered that it was a job Evie loved.
“Ro,” Stevie said, snagging her attention. When she looked, Stevie was holding up a bag of marshmallows.
“Just one,” she said with a grin. “I’m beat.”
Stevie nodded and plopped down next to her, then handed over a stick with a marshmallow on the end, just like the previous night. Also like the previous night, Rowan held it just above the flames.
“If anybody wants a s’more in, like, an hour, just tell Rowan,” Becca teased.