10. Shawn
Shawn
Blaze’s sister Brooke is friendly and welcoming as she invites me inside.
Their place is small, but homey. Lived in.
Misty comes up to greet me, sniffing around my ankles and wagging her backside happily when I scratch behind her silky ears.
It’s so different from my comfortably minimalist cabin at the retreat.
I let out a breath, happy to find this refuge of normalcy.
They have a lumpy brown couch and a flat-screen TV perched on an old trunk kitty-corner from a fireplace.
I spot a laptop on the kitchen table, which is covered in the stuff that makes up a life: papers and magazines and reusable grocery bags.
It feels like a home. It smells like one, too—cinnamon and dog and the faint whiff of charred pine from some previous use of the fireplace.
Where Brooke is friendly, Blaze isn’t unfriendly—he just seems a little caught off guard. Which is probably my fault. I took his invitation to come over and watch the game at face value and didn’t think about how I’m encroaching on his weekend.
All I was thinking about, to be honest, was how much I’ve been looking forward to seeing him again.
“We’re just finishing up breakfast. Do you want some pancakes?” he asks, glancing toward the kitchen.
“They smell great, but no. I’m full from my own breakfast.” Maybe this was a mistake. “I’m a little early for the game. Should I come back later?”
“No,” Blaze says quickly.
His sister seems to be hiding a smile behind the palm of her hand.
“No, it’s fine,” he says in a more normal tone. “But we were going to head over to the new house and check out the progress. You can come with us.”
I glance at Brooke, who nods, not hiding her smile any longer. I’m curious about the construction project Blaze has mentioned more than once. “Okay. Thanks.”
“So, Shawn,” she says as the three of us and Misty leave the house on foot. We follow the packed sand road that runs around the perimeter of the lake. “When did you arrive in Maine?”
I count back. “About a week and a half. Wow. It feels like both five minutes and a month. Maybe it’s the ‘no internet’ thing.”
“Ah yes, how are you surviving on Marika’s internet diet?” She sounds amused, like it’s some hippie quirk of the retreat owner.
“It was weird at first, but it’s been kind of nice not knowing what’s going on in the outside world.”
We chat about the retreat a little more, and then a bend in the road reveals an opening cut through the trees on the lake side.
We walk down the evidently recently graded driveway, which gains elevation as it tops a little hill.
Behind another copse of evergreens is a cleared area and a small construction site.
Misty puts on speed, chasing a chipmunk who vanishes into the foliage at the edge of the cleared area.
“They’ve made so much progress,” Brooke observes, though to me it doesn’t look very far along.
There’s a concrete pad and some two-by-fours sticking up from it, a stack of lumber on the ground nearby.
Also, an idle digging machine and what looks like some kind of large table saw.
No workers—it being Saturday. A chill wind kicks up, and I shiver.
It suddenly not only feels decidedly autumn-like, it’s clear winter isn’t that far-off, either.
“Didn’t you say you want to get the roof on before the snow comes?” I ask.
“That’s the plan,” Blaze says. “Come on.” He gestures for us to walk onto the slab. I turn around, and that’s when it hits me that this house, when it’s built, will have an unparalleled view of the lake.
“Wow,” I say.
“You can see it, can’t you?” Blaze sounds pleased and proud.
“Totally.” Right now all I can see are trees, but there’s a flash of water here and there. It doesn’t take much imagination to understand how stunning it’s going to be.
“This takes you down to the basement?” Brooke says, looking down at a square hole in the concrete.
“Yep,” he says. “I’ll show you.” He walks to the edge of the slab, then scrambles down a little embankment.
Brooke follows, then so do I. From below, I can see the concrete is two levels—the ground floor we were just standing on, then a large basement level with its own foundation. It’s open to the elements right now.
“How will this be closed up?” I ask.
“We’re going to put in barn doors, that way it can be completely opened up if need be. There will be a garage above, but this could be considered another garage space. Of course, eventually it’ll house the heating and water and electrical systems, too.”
“What a cool idea.”
Blaze talks for a while about the various plans and designs.
I haven’t read architectural plans in a hot minute, but when he pulls up the architect’s rendering on his phone, it helps me visualize how they’re going to get from here to there.
It’s clear he’s thought everything through and is super excited about it.
“And here’s where you can have a little patio with a view of the lake, maybe have your morning coffee,” he says to Brooke, who gives him a faint smile. There’s something off about her response, which seems a little reserved. But I just met the woman, so maybe I’m reading her wrong.
“So tell me again how this is going to happen?” I say. “We’re into October already, and apparently we could get snow any time.”
“I know. My contractor is a little short-staffed at the moment,” Blaze says, sounding slightly anxious. “He’s doing the best he can. I’d help out more, but work keeps me surprisingly busy.”
And I’ve been the one keeping him busy lately. He didn’t mean it that way, but it still makes me feel self-absorbed.
“But it’s okay,” he says, forcing a cheerful smile. “We have at least a month or two before we could see any kind of real winter weather.”
A month doesn’t seem like very long when there’s so far to go. It’s not a small house. But what do I know? I took one woodworking class in college and worked two seasons of construction. I’m barely a rookie when it comes to this stuff.
“So, what do you think?”
“It’s going to be incredible, B,” Brooke says. “Anyone would be ecstatic to live here.”
There’s something about the way she says it that makes me wonder if she’s being completely honest, but Blaze seems satisfied. He calls for Misty, and we head back the way we came. I fall into step beside Brooke, while Blaze is up ahead with the dog.
“I don’t have any siblings,” I say to her quietly. “But if I did and one of them was building me a house, I’d be pretty impressed. Maybe a little overwhelmed.”
“Blaze is very impressive,” she says, smiling at me with even white teeth. I remember Blaze told me she’s a dental assistant. “He’s a really good guy. And a good brother. He’s given up a lot for me.”
She sounds a little sad at the last part, but it’s clear the two of them care about each other a lot. “Well, I know if he did, it’s because he wanted to. Blaze isn’t the kind of person who does things because he thinks he should—he does them because they’re the right thing to do.”
“You’re right,” she says, glancing at me with approval. “But that doesn’t make it less of a burden, you know?”
It’s not clear which burden she’s talking about—the burden he carries taking care of her, or her burden of gratitude over being taken care of.
“Thanks for letting me tag along,” I say to her, yet again feeling like I’ve intruded on their family weekend.
“Oh, I’m glad you’re here,” she says. “Blaze knows everyone, but he should have more friends.”
“I’m just visiting.” I may be drawn to the guy, but I’m only here for a brief stay.
“Yeah, but there’s not a lot of people he connects with. Anyway, I’m glad you came over. It’s his day off, and I’ve got to go out for a while.”
“His day off?” I’m an idiot for not realizing sooner. “Am I—shit, I’m totally imposing.”
“No, you aren’t,” she says firmly. “If you’re here, it’s because Blaze wants you to be here,” she adds, reflecting my own logic back to me.
We’re back at the house before I can respond.
“I’m going to head out. Do you want me to pick up something for supper on the way back?” Brooke asks.
Blaze glances at me. “Sure. Why don’t you call before you order something?”
Will I still be here at dinnertime? Would it be creepy if I were? I literally have nothing else on my agenda and hanging out with Blaze seems like the best possible way to spend my time.
“Sure. So nice to meet you, Shawn,” Brooke says warmly before collecting a bag, a jacket, and a pair of keys that no doubt go to the practical small SUV I saw parked outside next to Blaze’s truck.
“You too,” I say. I like her—she’s different from Blaze, a little more of the world, if that makes any sense.
But it’s clear the two of them care about each other a lot.
It’s sweet and makes me feel slightly envious.
What would it be like to have someone in my life I was that close with?
Jett and I call each other brother, but we were teammates, not blood.
Brooke heads out, and then Blaze and I are alone, except for Misty, who trots over to a dog bed in front of the fireplace and puts her chin on her paws.
“The pregame might be on,” Blaze says. “Too early for a beer?”
It’s a little after noon. “A beer sounds good.”
“Clicker’s on the table if you want to find the game.”
When I hit the power button, the TV’s already set to the sports streamer. I put the volume on low, drop onto the couch, and hit play on a clips package of the Laurels covering their run-up to the playoffs. It feels like watching an ex’s wedding video. I’m detached yet invested at the same time.
“Here you go,” Blaze says, walking over from the open kitchen with a tall can of what looks like some kind of local brew and a bowl of tortilla chips, both of which he sets on the coffee table. “Got some salsa, hang on.”
The beer is ice cold. He brings a jar of salsa and another beer for himself, dropping everything off on the scarred table, then sits on the other end of the couch.
I look from him to the TV. We’re about to embark on a ritual millions of people across the country participate in everyday—watching sports with a friend. And I’m sweating through my T-shirt under my sweater. Seeing my team on the screen—I thought I could handle it. But something isn’t right.
“Are you okay?”
“I don’t know. I thought I wanted to watch. Support the team, you know?”
“Yeah.”
“But it still kind of hurts.”
“I bet.”
“You wanted to watch the game—”
He takes the remote from where I left it on the coffee table and hits a button. The screen goes dark. I feel calmer the second it’s off.
“I can get the score later,” he says simply. “What do you want to do instead?”
It’s completely out of left field, so to speak, and completely inappropriate that the first thing that pops into my head is we’ve got the place to ourselves, a big comfy couch. The perfect make-out setting.
I’ve never made out with a guy before, and I don’t even know for sure Blaze isn’t straight.
But who cares? The other day when I was looking for something to read in The Snug, I came across a fantasy novel.
At first, I thought it was your traditional dragons-and-elves kind of thing, but in the second chapter the brawny dragon slayer started getting busy with the aloof elf prince, and it was surprisingly hot.
Maybe it doesn’t matter, in the cosmically insignificant sense, that I’ve never made out with a guy, or even wanted to, before.
Damned if I don’t want to make out with Blaze.
Wanting to do something and actually doing it are two different things, though. I bite my lip and come up with plan C. “Uh. We could watch something else?”
“For sure,” he agrees easily. “What do you like?”
“I’m not picky.”
“This is going to sound funny, but there’s this horror movie I’ve been wanting to watch, and I haven’t had time to put it on when Brooke hasn’t been home—she hates horror.”
He names a title I saw last year on an airplane, and I nod. “That was a good one.”
“You’ve seen it,” he says, sounding vaguely disappointed.
“But I’d totally watch it again. Especially on this big screen. Most of the movies I see I watch on planes.”
“You sure? We can watch something else.”
I laugh. We’re both too polite. “Yes, put it on. I like scary movies.”
“Great, okay.”
He queues up the title, and I settle into the couch, resting my arm along the back.
It’s way more comfortable than the undoubtedly more expensive one in the cabin.
“You know, you don’t have to treat me like something fragile,” I say.
“I’m not a guest today. Brooke told me it’s your day off, which means you’re not required to entertain me. ”
He smiles. “I’m not mad about you being here, Shawn.”
“That’s good.”
We just look at each other for a second and again, I’m struck by this wave of…
I don’t even know. The word comes to me in a flash.
Longing. I want something, and I don’t know how to ask for it.
I’m fumbling my way in the dark, having lost the trail long ago, on this bright sunny day in Blaze’s living room.
“Ready?” he asks.
I wish I was ready to act on what I’m feeling, but I barely have words for it, let alone a plan of action.
But he’s talking about the movie. “Sure. Go for it,” I say, still looking at him. Blaze has steadily led me since I got here. If he took the lead again, maybe reached out and touched me, I’d go with it.
But that’s not going to happen.