forty-four | will
FORTY-FOURWill
I’m outnumbered.
Brighton, Reeve, Cab, and Juni—all the females in my life—circle the firepit.
Brighton hands me a plate with a pudgy pie and I’m instantly transported back in time, watching Emberly play emcee at the first annual Pinehart Pudgy Pie Competition.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think she planned it that way.
What I’d assumed was a relaxing campfire is beginning to look like an intervention.
At least I can take solace in the fact that none of them are wearing their autographed Declan Murphy T-shirts. It’s not bad enough I have to listen to his music. Now I have to see the guy’s face in triplicate, too.
I take a bite of the pudgy pie and it tastes like cheese-flavored sawdust in my mouth.
Nothing has looked right, felt right, tasted right, since Emberly left.
I set the plate down. “All right … let’s get this over with, please. It’s been a long day.”
Reeve crosses her arms. “You’re pining, Will.”
“Pining,” Brighton echoes.
“Then I guess I’m in the right place.”
No one appreciates the joke. Or maybe they didn’t get it.
“Pine-ing …”
They’re still not laughing.
“And deflecting.” This comes from my now thirteen-year-old sister, who I know didn’t stumble across the term in a fishing video.
“Have you talked to her yet?” Reeve asks.
“I called.” Right after I saw my flannel shirt on the bed.
“What did she say?”
“She didn’t answer.” Or call me back. I hadn’t left a message, though, because how do you condense everything you’re feeling when an Emberly, I’m sorry for being such a jerk would take up most of your twenty-second voicemail?
Reeve and Bright exchange a look. I know what they’re thinking. They’re thinking I should try harder. I know this because that’s what I’ve been thinking.
“I miss her,” Cab says.
I do, too.
My cell rings and I’m grateful for the interruption. Even if it’s Knox.
“Hey.”
“Bro … get your butt over to the Grill.”
I groan. “Not you, too. It’s late.”
“It’s only eight o’clock, Grandpa.”
He hangs up on me.
“You pulled Knox in on this? Is the Grill Phase Two of your scheme?”
Brighton looks away and Reeve shrugs.
“Not that I know of, but an evening out isn’t a bad idea.”
I don’t want an evening out. I want another evening with Emberly.
Cab vaults out of her chair. “Can we all go?”
“I haven’t said I was going,” I point out. “Bright … are you okay?” Her eyes are bulging like she’s having trouble swallowing that last bite of pudgy pie.
“Fine,” she croaks. “Iris, you promised to take me fishing.”
Now I’m remembering the proud look on Emberly’s face when she held out the tattered perch filet.
This is what happens now. I can’t go anywhere without seeing Emberly.
Maybe I do need to get away from the resort for a few hours.
Emberly was at the Grill, but not with me, so there’s nothing there that will trigger a memory.
“I’ll go … but only to get away from you,” I tell them.
They smile. Even Juni.
Why does no one take me seriously?
I don’t let Knox know I’m coming. I’m sure Reeve will have texted him before I start the truck.
I glance in the rearview mirror and see Cab and Bright walking toward the dock. Bright hasn’t been herself the past few days, either. We haven’t had a debrief about her European tour yet, but I’m sure it opened the window to more job offers once she finishes grad school.
I pull into the parking lot. It’s full—proving that some people actually do venture out at night—and drive around back. Slam on the brakes.
Because there’s a pink convertible parked in my spot.
My heart starts to pound while I remind myself that it’s a rental. It doesn’t mean Emberly is back.
Knox would have given me a heads up if Emberly was back.
Knox better have given me a heads up if Emberly was back.
But she’s not. She’s in Florida. Or jet setting off to Paris to see the Mona Lisa again.
I open the door and Declan Murphy’s latest hit drowns out the cheers rising up from the volleyball court.
Great. Just great.
I can’t get away from the guy.
“Will.”
I pause when Knox grabs my arm.
“What? I’m going to find a table so at least I’m comfortable for lecture number two.”
“Lecture?”
“Isn’t this when my other best friend reminds me that I made the biggest mistake of my life?”
“No, I’m here to remind you not to make another one.”
The volleyball players shift position and that’s when I see her.
Emberly.
She’s sitting at a picnic table—alone. In her red sundress. She looks beautiful. And here.
“I’ve been working in the kitchen.” Knox keeps his voice low. “I saw her name when Dawn handed me the slip.”
“You could have mentioned it when you called me,” I say through gritted teeth.
“I could have.” Knox is grinning now. “But I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
I’m not sure, either.
“This is what you wanted, man. Go talk to her.”
Knox is right. This is what I’ve wanted. But that doesn’t stop the sudden churning in my gut.
“Hey, Will.” Dawn appears beside us, holding a shallow basket woven from good old-fashioned plastic. The unmistakable fragrance of a brat burger drifts through the air. “Maybe you want to deliver this one?”
Knox releases me and raises both hands.
“Don’t look at me. Guys don’t talk about that kind of stuff.”
“It was Reeve.” Dawn throws our friend under the bus as she hands me the basket.
With the number of guys checking Emberly out, I’m surprised no one has gathered the courage to approach her.
Maybe they’re the smart ones.
Or else they’re thinking they don’t stand a chance. That she’ll put them in their place with a cool smile.
I know she’d never do that, because I know Emberly. Like Bright pointed out, she’s kind.
I’ve missed her so much, it’s a constant ache.
But why is she here? Why didn’t she come to the resort?
There’s still time to retreat, but I set the basket down on the table.
“Thank …” She looks up, a smile blooming on her lips.
It disappears when our eyes meet.
So, maybe she didn’t come to see me.