Chapter Six #2
“Oh my God, he’s so cute,” she said with a happy grin. “Hello there, sir. Don’t worry, I will put you right back.” Then she tilted her rod toward Stevie. “Can you do it?”
Stevie grinned and shook her head. “Such a girl.”
“Don’t hurt him.”
“I won’t.” Stevie closed her hand over the sharp spines of the fish’s top fin, unhooked him, and held him toward Rowan, who said her goodbyes, then waved as Stevie tossed the fish back into the water and he wiggled, then swam away.
“He’s gonna go tell all his fishy friends about his adventure this morning,” Rowan told them.
“I hope he tells them he got caught but managed a heroic and daring escape. It’ll play better to his buddies.
” When she turned to look at Evie, she was smiling at her with an expression Rowan couldn’t quite pinpoint.
No, that wasn’t true. She could pinpoint it just fine because she’d seen it many times.
She didn’t want to think about it. That was a more accurate statement.
With a hard swallow, she looked away. To Stevie, she said, “So, Sara comes tomorrow, yeah?”
The way Stevie’s face lit up made Rowan all warm and mushy inside. She wasn’t the only one who noticed, because Lizzie spoke up.
“Look at how cute you are. Still in love after—what is it now? A million years?”
“About that long,” Stevie said with a nod.
“Is she bringing Scout?”
Stevie sighed. “No, not this time. But Sara’s niece is dog-sitting, and Scout is in love with her, so he probably won’t even notice we’re gone.”
“Can’t wait to see my girl!” Lizzie said, her voice painted with excitement.
Rowan blinked several times, then looked at Stevie, whose expression got serious in an instant.
“What? What is it? You okay?” She was next to Rowan, hand on her arm.
Rowan grinned. “We did this before. You taught me to fish already. Camp was not the last time.”
Stevie’s smile was huge, and she gave Rowan’s arm a squeeze. “The last year you came. Three years ago. Yeah, we took that small fishing boat they had at the house we rented, and we went out, just the two of us, to fish in the morning.”
“And I got my hook caught on your pant leg.”
“You so did.” Stevie was laughing now. “And then you tried to cast anyway, and it dug into my thigh.”
“Ow!” Evie said, smiling from the front.
Rowan loved these moments, when a particular memory showed up out of the blue. “See?” she said to Lizzie. “This is how it works, apparently.”
“So, stuff just…pops up?” Lizzie seemed fascinated.
“Sometimes. Yes. It’s happened more than once, and it seems to be happening a bit more often recently. The doctors said it could happen like that.”
“Is it cool?” Evie asked, her voice soft. “Or is it, like, freaky?”
“It’s a little of both,” Rowan said. “It’s hard to explain, but it’s like I had this empty space in my brain and then suddenly, it’s not empty anymore. It’s kind of weird, but every time I remember something, I’m relieved.”
Evie shook her head, but she was smiling. “The human brain is really something.”
They fished and joked and chatted for another hour, catching four more fish before deciding to head back to the house for breakfast.
They carried all their gear back up to the house, the scent of bacon wafting out through the open windows.
“Justine’s up,” Lizzie said and picked up her pace.
Rowan felt a quick stab of envy over having somebody you were that happy to get to.
Stevie took the fishing equipment under the deck while Rowan carried the snack bag and garbage and Evie hauled the cooler.
Inside, they said their good mornings. Rowan put her stuff away.
Evie set the cooler down and shook out her hand, and Rowan remembered how heavy it was carrying it down.
“I should’ve carried that,” she said quietly to Evie. “I carried it down. Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine. I’m not helpless.” Evie didn’t snap at her, but her voice had an edge, and she walked out of the kitchen before Rowan could respond.
“Catch anything?” Justine asked from her regular position in front of the stove.
Shaking off Evie’s odd comment, she turned her attention to Justine and told her all about the morning.
The rest of Tuesday was lazy.
Rowan corrected herself. No, we’re not being lazy. We are on vacation. She lowered the book she was reading and turned to Jasmine, who was also reading, in the lounge chair next to her.
“What is it about society that makes us think even when we’re on vacation, we need to be doing something or we’re lazy?”
Jasmine lowered her own book. “Right? I’m very much enjoying just sitting here reading my book, but in the back of my mind, I’m wondering if I should be swimming. Or shopping. Or hiking. Or doing something that involves me moving. Like I’m not allowed to sit for too long.”
“Exactly.”
They sat quietly for a moment, neither of them reading, both of them gazing off toward the water.
There was an anchored deck about fifty yards off the shore, a spot you could swim to, climb up on, and hang, and Stevie was there now.
Rowan could see her stretched out on a towel, soaking up the warm sun.
The boat was gone again, Lizzie, Justine, and Becca off for a ride.
Claire and Evie were making noise under the deck, and Rowan knew they were looking for paddles for the canoe that lay upside down near the shore.
“Hey, Rowan?” Evie’s voice came from below her. “Do you know where the other paddle is?”
She set down her book and headed down the deck stairs. “I remember seeing them both,” she said as she rounded the bottom of the stairs.
Claire stood with one paddle on her shoulder, and Evie had two life jackets in her hands.
It was a little dim under there, the sun not quite reaching.
That, combined with the sheer amount of outdoor equipment people have at a lake house, and Rowan understood exactly why they were having trouble.
Fishing rods and paddleboards and water toys and extra folding chairs—all were stacked, piled, or leaning.
Rowan slipped her phone out of her pocket and flipped on the flashlight, shining it around, under and above the other stuff as she squatted slightly to see better.
“There it is,” Claire said.
Rowan stood up as Claire turned to grab what she’d seen and there was a whack as the paddle on Claire’s shoulder knocked Rowan in the head.
“Ow,” she said, both hands going to the back of her skull. “Shit.”
“Oh, my God,” Evie cried, moving quickly to Rowan, placing her warm hands over Rowan’s.
Claire dropped everything she was holding. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry.”
“Wait,” Rowan said. Just that one word, and both Evie and Claire froze in their tracks. Neither said anything. Just stared at Rowan. Waited. “My memory. I…it’s back.” She blinked at them, looked from Evie’s stunned face to Claire’s and back. “I…I remember it all. Everything.”
“Holy shit,” Claire whispered. “You do?”
Rowan pointed at Claire. “I do. You were there.” She turned to Evie. “And you were there.”
Evie’s face went from shock and concern to suspicious understanding. “Are you Wizard of Oz-ing us right now?”
Rowan grinned. “I might be.”
Evie slapped at her. “That’s not funny.”
“Except it kinda was. You should’ve seen your faces.”
“Yeah, fucking hilarious,” Claire said, clearly not finding it funny at all. She picked up both paddles and headed toward the canoe without another word.
Rowan grimaced at Evie, who shrugged.
“She’ll get over it.” She slapped at Rowan one more time. “But don’t do that again. So mean.”
“Totally worth the look on your face, though.”
And then there was a moment. Just a short one, just long enough for a breath in and a breath out, where their gazes held.
Evie’s dark eyes were soft. They cradled Rowan—which was a ridiculous thing to think because how was something like that even possible?
But it was true. She’d always felt held and protected simply by looking in Evie’s eyes.
And then Evie smiled, looked quickly down at her feet, and said quietly, “See you later.”
Rowan stood there under the deck and watched her go, watched her long, lithe body, watched the gentle sway of her hips, watched the muscles of her shoulders exposed by her tank top. She inhaled deeply, held it in, and let it out slowly.
Damn.
She cleared her throat and headed back up the stairs.
The temperature had steadily increased from when they’d been out on the boat, and now, just climbing the stairs to the upper deck caused a bead of sweat to roll down the center of her chest and between her boobs.
On the deck, Jasmine was still reading. “Hey,” Rowan said.
“How do you feel about frozen margaritas?”
Jazzy lowered her book and slid her sunglasses down her nose, giving Rowan her full attention.
“Everybody’s gone,” Rowan pointed out. “You and I have the whole place to ourselves. And I saw all the ingredients inside, plus a top-of-the-line blender. What do you say?”
“What do I say? I say why are you still standing there talking at me about them instead of inside making them?”
“I knew I liked you the second I met you,” Rowan said with a laugh, and headed into the house. “You’re gonna love my Margarita Rowan. Just you wait.”
“Oh, I can’t wait to find out what makes them yours.”
By the time the others started to trickle in from their early afternoon activities, Rowan and Jazzy were two margaritas in and laughing at just about everything.
“Did you make Margarita Rowans?” Stevie asked, eyes wide, expression one of horror. “When I wasn’t even here?”
“Look,” Rowan said, waving a finger between herself and Jasmine. “We were alone. We were thirsty. I had no choice.”
Stevie held up a hand, palm out, and turned her head away as she tightened her towel around her waist.
“Ooh, Margarita Rowans,” Lizzie squealed as she and the other boaters came in, and she saw the blender. “Are there more?”
“There are always more,” Rowan said, waving her hand with a grand flourish.