19. Chapter 19
Chapter 19
James
“O k, Tater. Are you going to just sit there and stare out the window at those ladies all night?”
My grandmother’s voice pierced through the fog in my head as I realized I’d been holding my fork—with the last bite of corn salad—midair. Completing the pass, I finished chewing as I rested the fork on my empty plate.
“For your information, I wasn’t staring . At least, not at them. I think there’s an eagle’s nest now in the Grimm’s pine tree a couple hundred feet down—do you see it?”
“Uh-huh… a nest . That’s what held your attention for three solid minutes.” GiGi chuckled, shaking her head. “You must think me senile, my boy.”
“Not senile… at least, not yet. But you’ve been known to be wrong.”
“Not about you. Don’t forget, I’ve known you your whole damn life. You think I wouldn’t notice you showing an interest in our Elizabeth?” As I opened my mouth to speak, she held up a firm hand. “Don’t waste either of our time denying it. It’s clear as day that you like her. And anyway, I’m old… give your grandmama something to feel excited about.”
I groaned, rubbing at my face with both hands, as if trying to wipe away the evidence from my eyeballs that I had, in fact, been watching Lizzie and her friends out on her porch throughout most of our meal.
“Alright, fine. So I was looking. But that doesn’t mean that I’m interested in Lizzie the way you’re thinking. We’re friends.”
“Of course you’re friends. Doesn’t mean you aren’t wanting more than that, though.”
“Are you already forgetting what made me lose my job with Mel? I told you, I won’t start off my business by crossing the line with a client.”
GiGi rolled her eyes. “Are you really comparing Elizabeth to that old cougar, Denise Kinney? That was practically predatory behavior on her end, and you know it.”
“No… it’s just, I promised myself I’d keep things professional. I’d be a total hypocrite if I just tossed out the rule book with my very first client, just because I happen to like her.”
“You’d be a complete idiot is more like it. I’ve seen how you look at her, James. She even got you reading a book. You. Just admit it… you care about her.”
“So what if I do?” I crossed my arms, my mind flashing back to a memory of my eight-year-old self, pouting at this same kitchen table. It was enough to make me relax my posture. “It doesn’t mean that I have to act on it. Or that she’d even want me to, anyway.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure she would. I’ve been watching her too, you know. What else does a retired old lady have to keep herself busy with?” GiGi said with a sly wink. “Problem is, you two would dance around this spark between you forever, unless I gave you a little push in the right direction. So, consider yourself pushed .”
I narrowed my eyes. “Meaning, what? ”
“Meaning, stop being chicken shit and ask the girl out. The rest will work itself out, you’ll see.”
“I don’t know…”
“Tater-tot, listen to me—you’re thirty-four years old already, almost thirty-five. You haven’t been serious about a woman… ever . All I’m saying is, maybe it’s time to do the work and figure out why that is. Because I’m damned tired of seeing my grandson so unhappy.”
I didn’t answer, instead looking back towards the window, wishing I could pinpoint the one, insurmountable thing that kept pulling me towards her. Was it just proximity? Or a sum of all her parts?
Maybe all it boiled down to was shared tragedy. Over one of our earlier lunch chats, she’d shared more about not only losing her mother and grandmother, which we’d already discussed—but her father as well.
I remembered hearing about Greg Blake’s death fifteen years back—it shook my grandmother too, and not just because he was the son-in-law of her dearest friend. He’d had a heart attack out on the dock next door, so similar to how we’d lost Pops. Somehow, I hadn’t made the connection before that he was Lizzie’s father—or that it was the reason we never saw much of her family at the cabin after that.
It made me wonder how much all of that loss had changed the trajectory of that girl. Because it certainly had torn apart mine.
I watched as Lizzie, Brooke and Indi—who I also knew from around town—made their way down to her fire pit. Lizzie had her head tilted back, laughing as she awkwardly carried an oversized log, dropping it with gusto into the pit, shouting what sounded like, “I carried the watermelon!” . And I wasn’t close enough to get a good look at them, but I was certain her eyes had to be sparkling, like they always did whenever she laughed.
It made me wonder what they looked like now, by the firelight.
It was then that I felt my brain come to a complete halt. Because Jesus Christ … what the hell was I doing sitting here, ruminating on the shiny eyes of my client?
But she’s not just a client to you anymore, and you know it.
Those were the words that kept playing on a loop as I made my way home an hour later, after helping GiGi with the dinner cleanup. She’d had a smug look on her face the entire time, but she hadn’t pressed me further.
Anyway, I knew she was right, even if I’d refused to admit it to her then. Getting too close to a woman had always seemed like something I couldn’t manage, especially after my own father fell apart from losing his.
And I’d had too much loss in my life already, with little proof that things ever actually worked out.
It’s why I’d always kept women—well, most people—at arm’s length. The therapist I’d seen off and on throughout my teen years had said as much— ‘a protection mechanism’ , she’d called it.
I wondered if, at this point, I even knew where to find the switch to power it off. Or if I was brave enough to try.
But what would my life look like in another thirty-four years if I didn’t?
Early the following morning, I had parked my truck and was starting to make my way down to GiGi’s dock for some time out on the kayak when I saw her.
Lizzie was camped out, legs crossed, on her own dock, wrapped in a quilt with her back to me. But I could see the steam rising from her mug of coffee, knowing she likely had a book in hand as well—much like she had the day we’d crossed paths for the second time. I smiled to myself at the memory of her tumbling into the water and seeing her all fired up afterwards.
It made me glad I’d decided to stick it out here with her. And yes, it was less about the project or my ‘client’ now—and more about being granted the chance to continue getting to know the woman.
And, of course, I knew well enough by now not to sneak up on her.
I made it down to my kayak, making a point of being a little louder than normal this time, hoping she’d notice me on her own.
“Hey, there, you’re out early for a Saturday.” Lizzie had turned at the sound with a somewhat sleepy grin. Taking another sip of her coffee, she set it down next to her book before walking over, her quilt still draped across her shoulders. “You must not be able to sleep in on the weekends, either.”
I smiled at her as I bent down, turning my kayak until it was upright again. “Nope, never been able to. Of course, it didn’t help that neither of my grandparents believed in it either. Becoming a permanent early riser was sort of a foregone conclusion in my family,” I said, making a face.
She laughed. “It was the opposite in my house—everyone else loved sleeping in, except for me. But when we came up to the cabin with my grandparents, I’d usually hang out with my grandmother and read while everyone else snoozed.” She paused, and for a moment, she felt far away again. “Those are actually some of my favorite memories with her.”
“I’m sure she’d love seeing you here, reading her books again and enjoying the cabin.”
“You’re right… she really would,” she said, beaming. “Speaking of which, how are you liking your book?”
It was impossible not to feel the warmth from a smile like hers. “Actually, I’m liking it quite a bit. Never thought of myself as a poetry fan, but… I have to admit, Robert Frost may have done it.” I grinned. “So, thanks for coercing me, I guess.”
“You flatter me, sir.” She made a comical half bow from her seated position as I laughed. “But seriously, I’m really happy you like it. Birches has always been one of my absolute favorites. It reminds me of this place.”
“Me too.” I knew what she meant, of course. But for me, the beauty I saw right then couldn’t be captured by a single poem. Though if it were possible, Frost would’ve come the closest.
“So, listen… I wanted to bring up something.” She seemed to hesitate, chewing on her lower lip for a moment before continuing. “I feel like maybe I pressed too hard the other day when we were talking about your business. The last thing I wanted was to make you uncomfortable or share more than you wanted. So if I did that, I’m really sorry.”
Shit.
I sighed. “No, Lizzie, I’m the one who should apologize. The problem wasn’t you asking me… I know I can get kind of weird, because I’m just not used to sharing a lot about myself. But I don’t mind it with you. You’re… very easy to talk to.” It was true. I liked talking to her. And the very fact that she cared about how I felt in a simple conversation like the one we’d had made me want to trust her with the darker parts of me even more.
Even if it feels so fucking hard.
We stood there for a moment, smiling at one other as a breeze came through, twirling and twisting the strands of her hair into a dance around her as an idea popped into my head.
“Say… since I’ve been holding up my end of the deal with the book, what do you say we try going out on the kayak today? It could be your first mini lesson before going solo.”
She gave me a wary look before glancing down at the kayak. “That thing fits two people?”
“No, don’t worry, I also have a two-seater up in the garage,” I said, chuckling. “And I’ve done this a million times before. Trust me, you’ll be perfectly safe. Unless… you’re afraid of getting a little wet?” My grin widened, waiting to see if she’d take the bait.
She arched an eyebrow, head cocked. “Oh, I’m an excellent swimmer. I just don’t know how good of a paddler you are.”
I smirked as I watched her blush, once again realizing her choice of words. Though I had to admit, I was having a hard time keeping my brain from imagining what sort of paddling was racing around in her head.
I was having a difficult time not imagining a lot of things having to do with her lately. It had become impossible to keep her out of my mind—not that I really wanted to try.
“Come on… you’ll never know unless you try.”
Lizzie chewed on her lower lip for a moment, in that way she had that drove me crazy—and I willed my body not to respond. I’d scare her off from tandem kayaking for good if I kicked things off with a hard-on. “Alright, fine.” Pulling off the quilt to reveal her usual tank top and shorts, she folded it before setting it on a wooden chair next to the dock. Then she paused. “Wait, Brooke stayed over last night. She’s still asleep. Maybe I should let her know where I’m going?”
“Sure, if you want… but we won’t be gone long. I’ll keep this first run to twenty minutes, I promise.”
She looked uncertain for a moment, then shrugged. “Ok, let’s do it.”
“Great.”
I walked back up to GiGi’s garage, moving a tarp to pull out the old red tandem kayak Pops and I had used when I was younger. I hadn’t pulled it out in years, so it was pretty dusty—-but nothing a little lake water wouldn’t take care of.
Walking back down to the water, I handed Lizzie the extra paddle I’d grabbed for her, carrying the kayak along with my paddle into the water as she trailed behind. Setting both down into the water, I turned to her. “Ok, first you’re going to want to take one foot and step gently into the front seat there…”
“... wait, what? Why the front seat?”
I smirked. “Because that way, I can help you. It’ll be too difficult if you’re behind me. Plus you’d be stuck staring at my back the entire time.”
I heard her mutter something under her breath, but after a moment, she gingerly extended a leg into the front pocket. Reaching out, I took her hand to steady her—feeling that now all-too-familiar jolt of electricity passing between us.
Or maybe it was all in my head. Who knows? But judging by the look in her eyes, it didn’t seem so.
Leaning heavily on my arm, Lizzie settled herself into the front seat, and I handed her the paddle. I took my seat behind her, doing my best not to rock the boat too much—and a minute later, we pushed off.
“Ok, now take your paddle and sort of slowly dig backwards into the water on the left, followed by the right.” I watched as she awkwardly dipped her paddle into the water and began alternating her strokes in somewhat jerky motions. “Back and forth, port to starboard… yep, that’s it.”
Lizzie squealed as she felt the kayak wobble a bit with her strokes. “Are you sure I’m doing this right? I… I feel like we’re going to tip over.”
I chuckled. “Yes, you’re doing fine… just keep the movement in your arms nice and even. Don’t lean over too much.”
“But we’re barely even moving…”
“I’m going to start paddling now, too. Keep going, and I’ll match your rhythm.”
The mist still hung heavy over the water as we glided further out onto the lake, just the way I liked it. I heard Lizzie gasp as our kayak soon became enveloped in the fog.
“Oh, my God… this feels… almost magical. ”
“That’s because it is.” I felt the light breeze carry strands of her hair across my face, teasing me with the soft scent of early summer lilacs. Breathing in deeply, I let my eyes drift over the curve of her shoulders, her arms—the softness of her skin begging me to reach out and touch what lay so close, I could almost feel her warmth radiating from it.
This was better than kayaking alone. I could almost stay here forever in the silence, with her.
Off in the distance, the long, slow call of a lone loon shook me from my reverie. I reminded myself that I just needed to keep moving, one stroke at a time.
We paddled in spurts, sometimes in silence and other times chatting about people we both knew or teasing one another about our stroke styles. Mine were even and deliberate—but Lizzie’s continued to lean more on the erratic side, and I couldn’t stop chuckling over it. If I left it up to her alone, we’d likely create some sort of whirlpool, pulling every loon and duck in the area down towards the lake bottom. At one point, I actually worried she might tip us over; but I managed to right the vessel before it had dipped too far.
Using my paddle, I made a slow, wide turn to head us back towards shore. The sun was halfway up by now, burning off most of the remaining morning fog.
But still, it felt as though we were the only two people in the world. The surrounding lake was silent but for the sounds of our paddles slicing through the lake’s surface, the birds chirping off in the distance. Despite the feelings I had churning inside me, I felt more of the weight I’d been carrying begin to lift. Being here with her, I felt peaceful, content—and I didn’t want it to end.
It was then, about fifty feet out from the dock, that Lizzie spotted a small wood duck swimming a few feet away on our left. “Hey, little guy,” she cooed as she leaned a hand out towards him, her voice soft, inviting—but somehow, in doing so, she must’ve shifted her legs just enough towards the far left that I felt us beginning to tilt.
And before I could even react or try and stop it from happening, our entire kayak flipped over.
Crashing below the surface, the sounds around me became muffled as the lake water flowed in and pressed against my ear drums. Shaking off the initial shock, I quickly slid out of the cockpit, noticing Lizzie seemed to be panicking a bit as she hung upside down, disoriented. Reaching an arm around her waist to help her out as well, I pulled her upwards as we broke through the surface together.
Both of us gasping for air, we locked eyes for a moment as we tread water. Then we burst into peals of laughter, slowly making our way towards shore as we towed our gear behind us. The sounds of our laughs echoed across the lake, likely scaring away both the duck and the loon we’d encountered—but I didn’t care. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed like this, felt like this.
Like I was actually, truly … happy.
Once we’d reached the point where we could both touch the sandy bottom with our feet, I turned towards her again, grinning. “Seriously, are you ok?”
Lizzie nodded, catching her breath as her giggles subsided. “I’m fine, really. Though I think I failed at my first kayaking mission, Captain.”
“No, that one was on me. I let myself get… distracted.”
“I mean, that duck was pretty cute…”
“It wasn’t the duck.” Now my face was serious as I reached out a hand, brushing away a section of wet hair that had fallen across her face. The tiny droplets of water clinging to her eyelashes dazzled in the early morning light, bringing out flecks of gold amongst the green.
Later, as I reflected back on this moment, I wondered if it was actually her eyes, or the way she shivered as her top clung to her in wet patches—maybe even the way she chewed that damn lower lip—that had finally done me in.
Because right then, I couldn’t help myself. No, scratch that. I was tired of my brain having a million reasons not to do it. I wanted to listen to the much louder voice, screaming on my shoulder, “Do it, you idiot.”
So, I did.
Placing a hand on each cheek, I lowered my face towards hers, pausing only a second as I felt her breath hitch… and I kissed her.
And God, why had I waited so long? Because her lips—they were as soft and strong and delectable as I’d imagined them to be. No, better. Definitely better.
But then I felt them responding to mine, matching my movements—both hungry and gentle, nibbling and pressing, the slight flick of her tongue and whisper of a moan threatening to make me lose any shred of control or decency I had left. Had she been as hungry for this as I’d been? Was it even possible?
It wasn’t protests of fear or responsibility in my head now as I reached a hand up to thread through her wet hair, the other pressing against her back to bring her closer. The only thing I could hear, the only thing that mattered , was this simple truth: I never want this to end.
“Lizzie! Is that you out there?”
Hearing Brooke’s voice floating out across the water, we instantly broke apart, gasping for air as our eyes met again, the fire stoked and burning in both. It was clear neither of us knew what to say or do next, other than to turn and continue the last stretch towards shore in breathless silence, with me holding a paddle to conceal what that kiss had awakened in me.
As we stepped up onto the sand of the beach, Lizzie set down her paddle before turning back to me, cheeks flushed. “Um, thanks again for the ride.” Then with a quick smile, she darted up the grass to retrieve her sandals and quilt, making her way up across the slight slope to where Brooke stood watch. As Lizzie passed by her to continue on towards the front door, Brooke turned her head towards me again, making the ‘I’m watching you’ sign with the V of her fingers before following her inside. Never before had Brooke Christenson more resembled her two brothers.
After the screen door swung shut a moment later, I turned to start packing up my gear, my head racing in a million different directions. I didn’t even know the right way to feel about what just happened, but one thing was certain—-I damn well didn’t regret it. I just hoped Lizzie didn’t either.
There was no point in denying the truth anymore—I was falling for her, plain and simple.
Hearing GiGi’s words echo through my mind as I drove home a few minutes later, I hoped she was right—that the rest would figure itself out. Because that kiss had accelerated Lizzie’s and my relationship way past professional—and way the hell south of simple.
And for the first time, I felt like I might actually be ready for it.