Chapter 8
EIGHT
Lucy eruptsinto a fit of giggles as I pretend to race her to the water’s edge. She slows at the rocky shore and throws out a hand to me. I help her over the small rocks, thankful I thought to buy her water shoes before coming here. She’s adorable in her blue bathing suit with its ruffled skirt and the pink floaties wrapped around her arms and waist. There will never be enough bubble wrap to protect my little girl.
We stay near the rocks, splashing around and waving at the tubers who float by. Every now and then, I dart glances at the gathering in the pavilion that has been bursting with activity since the moment we arrived. A guitarist plays to a group of people who are celebrating Armando’s birthday.
It was Francine who slipped me the information that there would be a party here today—Kyle had mentioned it to her at Firefly. The possibility of running into Evie was too enticing to pass up.
“Did you see your friend?” Francine asks with a giant smile as she sets up her folding chair by the water’s edge.
I cock my head, playing dumb. Friends are not something I have in this town, nor do I plan to ever have friends. Still, I know exactly who she’s referring to. It’s the same gorgeous blonde I’ve been trying hard not to stare at since we arrived.
I allow myself to look at Evie now. She’s wearing a white bathing suit cover-up and is lounging on a large blue towel in the picnic area, reading. There’s something angelic about the way her long blonde hair splays out behind her head that makes me smile.
An internal groan sneaks up on me. I haven’t stopped thinking about the last time we were alone together, when she walked out of my office. She had every right to leave. Every right to tell me she was never coming back to therapy. And I, in turn, have absolutely no right to hope she would ever want to have a session with me again. My reaction to her confession was unprofessional, to say the least. I wanted her to trust me with her thoughts and feelings, not feel preyed on because of them.
Just then, Evie pushes herself to a sitting position and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She lays her book down and begins to roll her neck like she’s been stuck in the same position for too long.
“Look, Daddy.” Lucy brings a rock up from under the water and pushes her hand close toward my face so that I can get a good view of the shiny white stone. “Gems!”
I gasp and take her hand to pull it closer. “Wow, goose. That looks like real treasure to me.”
She giggles and pulls her hand back to look at it again. The pride that lights up her entire body makes me smile.
“Go show Gammy your new treasure,” I tell her. “I need to go say hello to a friend.”
Lucy nods and climbs back onto the shore. I step out of the water behind her to make sure she stays safe on the rocky terrain then make my way to Evie.
It’s like Evie senses me coming—she looks up when I’m several feet away, her eyes quickly finding my bare chest before flicking back to my face.
“Look at that. We meet again.” I smile, unable to help the way I react to this woman, the way I desperately need her to want to be around me too. “What a small world.”
She slips her sunglasses up onto her head and squints up at me. “You mean what a small town. Not exactly a ton of options around here.”
I shrug. “You’re probably right. Though Lucy might argue with you. The options were swimming here, gem mining, or petting the goats. The girl had a tough decision to make.”
Evie’s lips curl up on the sides. “Poor thing. However did she choose?”
Grinning, I sit on the ground beside her, careful not to get her or her towel damp. “I might have had some influence.”
Evie glares playfully. “How selfish of you.”
Chuckling, I shake my head. “What can I say? I’d rather swim in a creek than feed smelly goats.” I pause. “Looks like you made the same decision.”
She seems to ponder what I said. “I might be on Lucy’s side here. Goats are much more enjoyable in my opinion. Unfortunately, I came for a birthday party.”
I look at the group of people around the guitarist. “Then why aren’t you over there?”
“I put in my time with them. Now, I want to read.”
Something about her matter-of-fact attitude impresses me. Evie’s not forcing herself to be anywhere she doesn’t want to be, even if that means separating herself from her peers.
“What are you reading?” I ask, changing the subject.
She flips the book over so I can see the cover. “An oldie but goodie.”
I squint at the tattered hardback, wishing I recognized anything other than psychology-reference material. “Anne of Green Gables? What’s that about?”
Her mouth widens in a smile, and she runs a gentle finger across the cover. “It’s a children’s classic about an orphan girl with a wild imagination. She goes through a terrible experience with foster families but is eventually adopted by a brother and sister who live on a farm.” She lets out a small laugh. “However, when she shows up to live with them, they realize she’s a girl and not the boy they had asked for.”
At my frown, she rushes to continue. “They end up keeping her,” she explains. “And she has a crush on this boy, Gilbert Blythe.” She flushes with that last statement. “Anyway, it’s just a great tale that spans a lifetime when you continue reading the series. They even made it into a miniseries. It’s my favorite story.”
My eyes still search every inch of her face, delighting in how animated she’s become. “I can see that.”
She shrugs. “It’s inspiring. Anne doesn’t let her past determine her future. She observes the world with wide-open eyes and believes anything is possible.”
“Do you believe anything is possible?”
Her smile fades, and she tenses a bit. “I’d like to, but… in the real world, there’s so much out of our control.”
I’m not sure how much deeper we should get into this conversation, but I guess I can test how much she’s comfortable sharing. “Like what?”
She hesitates for a second, seeming to think of about she wants to respond. “Well, for instance, when I was younger, I would hear about my parents’ lavish vacations. I dreamed of them taking me one day, but they never did. Instead, I always came here to stay with Uncle Patrick.”
A piece of the mysterious puzzle that is Evie begins to slowly snap into place. “That explains why you had a bedroom at his house.”
“He wanted me to feel like his house was mine too. By the time I was a teen, Bryson City felt more like home than where I lived in Raleigh with my parents.”
There’s a pang in my chest. “What was your life like in Raleigh?”
She gives me a knowing smile. “Is this one of your incognito therapy sessions?”
I frown. “No, Evie. I’m asking because I’m curious how you ended up here.”
She studies me for a few more seconds before her shoulders relax a bit. “Raleigh was… prestigious, pretentious, and lonely. Very lonely.” She takes a deep breath. “My parents were very much into the social scene, and children weren’t allowed. By the time I got old enough for my parents to allow me into society, I was too much of a disappointment to them. My classmates were assholes who followed in their parents’ footsteps, and we just didn’t get along.”
A sigh escapes her. “After graduation, my parents threatened to cut me off if I didn’t go to college. So I packed my overnight bag and took the first train to Bryson City to live with Patrick permanently, and he welcomed me with open arms. All before my eighteenth birthday.”
“Sounds like Patrick was more of a parent to you than your own.”
“That’s an understatement.” She lets out a sarcastic laugh. “When I moved in, his only stipulation was that I had to go to therapy, and that’s when I started my sessions with J.D.” Her eyes dart to mine, like she’s said too much. “Patrick was worried over what detaching myself from my parents might mean for me.”
There’s clearly much more to the story there, but it’s not my place to push the conversation any more than I already have. With perfect timing, Francine and Lucy walk toward us. Lucy is wrapped in a big towel, her pigtails wet and tangled on top of her head, but she looks very happy.
“Hey, you two!” Francine grins.
“Hi, Francine. Hi, Lucy,” Evie says, giving Lucy a big smile that Lucy returns tenfold.
“Lucy here keeps talking about those darn goats,” Francine says. “I think I’m going to take her. Do you two want to come?”
I look at Evie, hopeful she’ll say yes.
Just then, another person calls out to her from behind us. “Evie! We’re going tubing. You coming?”
I look over my shoulder to see her co-worker Armando waving her over.
“Bring your friends,” he adds with a nod to me.
By now, I assume I’m a familiar face in this small town, so I smile and nod back.
Evie looks torn between Lucy and her friends, but Francine jumps in.
“You two go tubing,” she says to me and Evie. “I’ll take Lucy in the car to see the goats, and then I’ll pick you up whenever you’re done.”
I glance at Evie, trying to assess if it’s okay for me to crash the party.
She starts to gather her things but makes sure to make eye contact when she tells me, “Tubing sounds fun, actually. You should come.”
That’s the only confirmation I need. After giving Lucy a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, I smile at the way she waves a shy goodbye to Evie, then I follow Evie to a pile of tubes at one of the picnic tables. She reaches for a hot-pink one while I grab a blue one, but before we follow the others, she sets her tube down and removes her white sundress to reveal the sexiest yellow bikini I’ve ever seen.
Holy fuck.
If that day in my office was too much for my dick, this is most certainly worse. The triangles on top reveal the not-so-subtle swells of her breasts and the drastic dip of her waist compared to her thick, sexy hips and thighs.
Evie doesn’t acknowledge my avid gaze. Instead, she wraps one arm around her tube and turns to follow the others, giving me a front-row view of her perfect ass as she walks.
I scramble to follow, forcing my thoughts back into the safe zone, as difficult as that feels in the moment. “So, uh,” I begin, rushing to say anything that will distract me from her body, “do you still talk to your parents at all?”
She shakes her head and doesn’t look at me. “Not anymore. At first, my mom tried to get me to change my mind by calling and sending me texts—encouraging me to look at my future and how not going to college would limit my opportunities. My dad would come visit under the guise of seeing his brother, but he wasn’t fooling Patrick or me. He wanted to see if I’d changed my mind. Eventually, he realized I never would.”
I ponder this information, which feels like a lot to take in. “Patrick and your father seem nothing alike, from what you’re telling me.”
Evie chuckles lightly. “Polar opposites. Night and day. Patrick was the rebel in that family, always going against everyone’s wishes, like me.” She cocks her head like that status is something she’s proud of. “He wanted a simple life, and that’s what he got by moving here. He took his inheritance and built his dream bar then invested the rest in the properties he still manages today. Now he’s living like a nomad, traveling the Appalachians in his camper. He’s happy.”
“And what about you? Are you happy?”
Evie finally looks at me, her eyes locking on mine, and I think I can see the answer there before she can say anything. “I never know how to answer that question. I mean”—her eyes dart ahead of her again—“happiness comes and goes, doesn’t it? No one is in a permanent state of bliss. There are bad days and good days.” She pauses. “What about you? Are you happy?”
I’m almost surprised to be asked the question in return. I usually ask it in a therapy session with a patient, and they would never think to reciprocate.
“I am.” I nod. “It helps to have Lucy around. Seeing the world through her eyes is everything I need in this lifetime. She helps me find gratitude in all the moments—good, bad, and in between. She makes me want to be the best person I can possibly be every day, to set an example of myself for her to see. So, yeah. I’d say I’m pretty damn happy.”
Then a darker cloud thickens over my head. “That’s not to say I’m in a constant state of bliss, though, as you pointed out. I have my bad days. The good, however, far outweighs them.”
She blinks at me, and for a moment I think I might have offended her until her eyes begin to fill and a smile tugs at her lips. “That was beautiful, Lincoln. You really do have a special little girl.”
My heart squeezes. “Thank you, Evie.”
In the pause that follows, we share a single glance, but it’s a moment that feels bigger than any we’ve had so far. There’s so much about Evelyn Vaughn that I haven’t been able to get out of my head, and every minute I spend with her draws me in deeper, like an addiction that I’m trying to justify however I can. I want to believe this particular addiction is healthy, but I know in the depths of my soul that it’s most definitely not.