Chapter 12
Opinion: Calling in reinforcements isn’t a sign of weakness. It’s a sign that you’re in over your head.
—Delilah Dune, opinion writer
“W hat happened in here?” Travis walked into Lyla’s front door and looked down at his boots. “Not gonna lie. This is bad.”
“I know. Can you fix it?” Lyla asked as she sat on one of the kitchen stools to keep her feet dry.
He looked around the room and gave a confident nod. “Yeah, but we have to get the water up before it damages the flooring.”
“Allison is on her way. She’s bringing more towels.”
“Good.” Travis gestured toward the bathroom. “Please tell me you’ve already shut off the water to the house.”
Lyla furrowed her brow. “Hmm?”
Travis pressed a hand to his forehead. “What would you do without me, Ly?”
“Today? I have no idea.”
He turned to go right back out the front door.
“You’re leaving?”
“The water has to be turned off from the outside,” he called behind him. “Then I’ll see what kind of parts I need to buy while you and Allison get this mess up. I have a shop vac in my work truck. I’ll grab it.”
Lyla watched him go out, thankful that he was here. Otherwise, she’d be standing in this house and wondering what in the world she was going to do. Her parents were counting on her to handle things. What were they thinking? Her own life was falling apart. How was she supposed to keep their house from doing the same before finding suitable buyers?
Her phone buzzed from inside her pocket.
She tapped the screen and connected the call. “Hello?”
“Ms. Dune?” a man’s voice said. “This is Peter Blake.”
“Yes, hi, Mr. Blake,” Lyla said, nervously, hoping the real estate agent had better news than what she was expecting.
“Ms. Dune, I should’ve called you earlier, but I wanted to tell you, in case you haven’t figured it out yet, your house has a busted bathroom pipe. The prospective buyers and I only got as far as the hallway when we noticed the puddle.”
Puddle was actually good news. By the time Lyla had gotten home, that puddle had been a small lake.
“Needless to say, we turned around and walked out.”
Lyla’s hopes scattered like ash. “It’s just a cracked pipe. It could happen to any house. Once we get the water cleaned up and the pipe fixed, the house will be as good as new,” she told the agent, hearing the desperation seeping into her voice.
Opinion: Desperation begets the death of whatever one is hoping for. No exception.
“We viewed several other houses afterward, and my buyers found one that suited their needs perfectly. I’m sorry, Ms. Dune. I thought your parents’ place was the perfect match for this couple. I know how eager your folks are to sell their house. As soon as you fix the damage, give me a call and I’ll schedule more showings.”
“Sure, I’ll do that. Thank you, Mr. Blake.” She was about to disconnect the call, but thought better. “Mr. Blake? If you don’t mind, can we keep this just between us? My parents are on a trip of a lifetime. I don’t want to give them any reason to come back. I can fix this. There’s no reason to concern them.” She waited for Mr. Blake’s answer, which seemed to take longer than it should. “Please,” she added.
“Sure, I can do that,” Mr. Blake finally said. “Like I said, your parents are friends of mine. Technically, they are my clients. But I agree with you. Your parents deserve this trip, and I have faith in you, Lyla. Just like they do.”
Lyla was beginning to wonder if that faith was misplaced. “Thank you.” After disconnecting the call with Mr. Blake, Lyla walked back into the living room, her feet skimming across Echo Cove’s newest lake. Lake Lyla.
This is just a small setback. Travis is handy and he will fix the pipe. We’ll clean up the water and everything will be fine. Just fine.
“Everything okay?”
Apparently, Travis had stepped back into the house with a shop vac. She hadn’t even noticed he was there. “I honestly have no idea. I appreciate your help, though. You’re right. I don’t know what I would do without you this summer.”
“Things tend to work out the way they’re supposed to.”
Lyla felt an opinion article somewhere in that statement. She was too numb to even try to search it out, though. “Let’s get this place cleaned up, shall we?” She pulled in a breath and pushed down her emotions. She could cry later. Right now, she needed to do damage control. As she wondered where to start, the doorbell rang. “That must be Allison.”
“I’m here with towels,” Allison announced, as Lyla swung open the door. Allison stepped inside and noticed Travis standing off to the side. “Oh, hi, Travis. Long time no see.”
“Hey, Allison. How’ve you been?” Travis asked, making normal small talk.
Lyla inwardly cringed, though, because Travis probably had no idea how Allison’s life was going lately. Not unless Bailey kept him filled in on the happenings and goings-on in Echo Cove.
Allison’s mask was firmly in place as she responded. “Never better. You?”
“I’m good,” he said with a small nod.
Lyla wondered if everyone lied when they were asked how they were. What would life be like if people told the truth?
Depressing, she decided.
Opinion: No one wants the truth when they ask how you are. Not even your family and closest friends.
Two hours later, the floor was dry and Travis had already gone to Mr. Tibbs’s hardware store and returned.
“Strangely, there was a ton of hair gel blocking the pipe,” he said, emerging from the bathroom.
“Hair gel?” That was exactly what had caused the pipes to burst that same summer when Travis had moved away. This was too much of a coincidence, right?
Travis headed toward the front door, carrying his tools back out to his truck. “Other than that, your pipes are working perfectly fine now.”
Allison started giggling from the corner of the room as she stepped outside.
Lyla gave her a sharp look. “Are you being juvenile right now?”
“Sorry, I was a boy mom. That is exactly Ethan Mark’s humor.” Allison’s giggling continued a second longer. “It’s a positive that I can remember the good without breaking down into tears. My therapist says so.”
“You see a therapist?” Lyla asked.
“Of course. Even before the accident.” Allison gave her a curious look. “You don’t?”
Lyla had always been one to handle problems on her own. “Perhaps after the stress of selling this house, I’ll need one.” She looked at Allison for a moment, admiring the glow that hadn’t dimmed in well over a week. “So did your mystery man come over again last night?”
Allison locked a strand of hair behind one ear, revealing the rosy flush of her cheeks. “Are you circling my house or something? How’d you know?”
Lyla rolled her eyes. “Of course not. Are you two serious?”
Allison seemed to squirm where she stood. “No. I’m nowhere near ready for anything serious. We’re just having fun, that’s all. Lots of fun.” She waggled her brows. “You should try it sometime.”
Lyla should have known the conversation would swing back to her. “Travis and I are just friends.”
Allison nudged Lyla’s arm softly. “Friends who fix each other’s piping,” she said on another immature giggle.
“I’m not even sure that makes any kind of sense. And if it does, it’s gross.” Even so, she burst into giggles as well. “I had no idea you were so strange. And funny.”
“I don’t think I was the last time you knew me. So, now that your pipes are working, want to grab lunch?” She asked the question as Travis walked back into the room. “You too, of course. All three of us should go get something to eat.”
“Sure you don’t want to make it four and invite your new friend?” Lyla asked, referring to Allison’s mystery guy. She raised her brows a notch along with her tone of voice.
“Not just yet.” Allison avoiding looking in Travis’s direction.
He gave his head a subtle shake. “That’s okay, ladies. I actually have a job to do for someone else today.”
“A handyman job?” Lyla was intrigued by how easily Travis found work, even though he no longer lived in Echo Cove.
“Someone’s teenage son backed into their mailbox.” Travis began to return a few items to his toolbox. “I’m putting in a new mailbox for them. Maybe I can catch up with you later, though,” he told Lyla.
Lyla felt Allison watching. Nothing to see here, except two old friends who happened to be the opposite sex. “I guess I owe you for helping me today.”
“You can take me to dinner then,” Travis suggested. “What do you say?”
From her peripheral vision, Lyla saw Allison’s growing grin. “I say . . . sure.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up around six thirty, if that suits you.”
Lyla avoided Allison’s watchful gaze. “It does.”
“Good.” He waved at Allison. “Nice to see you again.”
“You too.” Allison squealed once he was gone. Even though the door was closed, Lyla guessed Travis probably heard the squeal outside. “Lyla! He’s totally into you, whether you want to believe it or not.”
“What? No. What makes you think that?” Lyla tried to temper her response even though she was secretly thrilled by the possibility that it might be true. Maybe Travis was into her in the way Allison was referring.
“Are you blind? It’s in the way he just looked at you.”
“And how was that?” Lyla wanted proof that she wasn’t imagining things. She did have a huge imagination, after all.
“He was looking at you like he wished I would take a hike so that you two could be alone.”
Lyla laughed out loud. “That’s absurd. Let me change clothes before we head to lunch,” she said, changing the subject because she was on the verge of a full-fledged hot flash.
“I have a spare outfit in my car. A mom of two can never be too prepared.”
Allison’s glow dimmed momentarily. Her comment must have caught her off guard. As if Allison had forgotten, just for a second, that she didn’t need to pack spare clothes in her car anymore because she didn’t have children to be responsible for.
Allison cleared her throat. “I’ll, um, just go grab it.”
“Sounds good.” Lyla watched her friend leave through the front door, pondering a dozen different things all at once. Mostly, she worried that this mystery guy would hurt Allison. Lyla also worried that Travis might hurt her. As long as she kept things platonic, that wouldn’t happen. Having a fling with your former best friend was never a good idea, no matter how one sliced it.
Opinion: There are no magic erasers in love. Once friends have crossed the forbidden line, they can’t uncross it.
After lunch and a lot of laughs with Allison, Lyla walked back in to her parents’ home and assessed the damage. One almost wouldn’t know there’d been a busted pipe earlier and a resulting flood on the living room floor. Travis and Allison were lifesavers. Maybe the potential buyers from earlier in the day had chosen to go with another home, but the next buyers were sure to love this place.
Lyla wished there was a couch to lie on, but since there wasn’t, she headed down the hall to her childhood bed. Lying back, she closed her eyes, took a couple deep breaths, and before she knew it, she was fast asleep.
Her mind immediately took her to the recurring dream about the Pirate’s Plank.
She was fifteen and standing on the wooden board that was suspended over Memory Lake. Her knees wobbled, and she could feel the prickle of goose bumps on her flesh, even though she wasn’t cold. The sun’s heat burned her bare shoulders and the back of her neck as she looked around the lake, noticing all eyes on her. At least that’s how it felt.
It also felt terrifying. The fear made sweat prickle along her forehead, rolling down her face, the saltiness reaching her trembling lips. Travis had put this item on that year’s bucket list, knowing that she was afraid.
“If you don’t jump, it’ll be bad luck,” he’d said just the day before.
He was the reason she was standing up here, shivering and shaking. Thanks a lot, Travis.
Lyla looked around at all the people near the lake, noticing Bernie in the water. Ten minutes earlier, Lyla had watched Bernie dive like it was no big deal. Now everyone in the lake, including Bernie, was watching Lyla and wondering what was taking her so long to jump.
Lyla’s mind spun as she inched forward on the plank, her vision growing blurry. She’d taken swimming classes. Swimming wasn’t the issue. It was the dive and the way the water sucked you under with no promise to spit you back out.
I can do this. I don’t have to be afraid.
No one had ever drowned in Memory Lake, and she wasn’t going to be the first. Sucking in a deep breath, Lyla filled her lungs to capacity. She tried to take another breath, but it felt shallow and insufficient. Then her breaths came faster, and her thoughts jumbled. Her vision became blurrier, and suddenly the people in the lake looked like little blobs of color. Fainting on the Pirate’s Plank would be worst-case scenario. She didn’t have on a life vest, and she wasn’t convinced anyone would jump in to save her. They’d probably just laugh harder than they already were.
“Jump already, freak!” somebody said from behind her.
Lyla turned to look over her shoulder at who it was, and then she looked back at the scene in front of her. The height suddenly felt too high, and the water seemed impossibly deep. Her heart rocketed up into her throat, cutting off her air supply. That’s when liquid panic flooded her veins, her vision went black, and she felt herself falling.
She hadn’t jumped. She felt her body plummeting toward the water, but her eyes were closed, and for the life of her, they wouldn’t open.
Lyla clawed at the air and braced herself for impact. No. No. “No-o-o!”
Someone’s hand grabbed Lyla’s shoulder and shook her awake. Lyla’s eyes burst open as she gasped for air.
“Ly, are you okay?”
Lyla blinked at Travis leaning over her, looking more concerned than she’d ever seen him. “What? What are you doing here?” she asked, in a breathless haze, as she tried to sit up.
“You didn’t answer your door. Or lock it. Sorry to just walk in, but I could hear your screaming all the way outside.” The skin between his brows formed a deep divot. “Were you having a nightmare?”
Lyla pressed a hand to her chest, attempting to calm her breathing. “I guess so.”
“What were you dreaming about?”
She blinked up at him, still trying to wake up and collect her bearings. Travis hadn’t been there that day when she’d nearly drowned at Memory Lake. Maybe if he had, things would’ve gone differently. When she’d tried to explain the life or death gravity of the situation, he’d accused her of being dramatic. “N-nothing.” She climbed off the bed and stood. “Why are you here?”
“We said we’d get back together this evening, remember? You went off with Allison for lunch. We said we’d meet back up for dinner.”
Lyla vaguely remembered that plan. “Right.”
“We have a bucket list item to check off,” he reminded her.
“Oh. Travis, I don’t think I’m up for that tonight.” Lyla wasn’t even sure if she was up for anything he might have in mind. A slight headache thrummed at her temple, and she still felt uneasy after that nightmare.
“All the more reason we should do this.”
“Do what?” Judging by the look on his face, she probably wasn’t going to be thrilled about this idea. She tried to remember what was left on the bucket list, but her mind was drawing a blank.
“Camping,” he finally said. “We put overnight camping on our bucket list. Remember?”
Lyla released a breath that came out as a small laugh. “Our parents’ heads’ practically exploded when we told them we were going to spend the night together in the woods. Even though we were already eighteen. I’m not sure if they were more scared about us being eaten by bears or being two teenagers alone in a tent.” Travis placed his hands on his hips right above his tool belt. His shirt was stained with dirt, which probably shouldn’t have been as sexy as it was. “Probably both, but especially that latter one, considering Bailey’s out-of-wedlock pregnancy that summer.”
“We couldn’t check camping off then, but there’s nothing stopping us from checking that item off now.” He rubbed his hands together. “Nothing except you. Come on, Ly. What do you say? Spend the night with me.”
August 2
Dear Diary,
I lied to Travis. I’m not a liar but, in my opinion, sometimes a lie is the only thing to do. He wanted to go camping. He even put it on the bucket list. There are so many reasons camping is a bad idea. Bad! So I told him that my parents said no. Yes, I know I’m an eighteen-year-old woman. An adult. I have full control of my actions, but I don’t trust myself to be alone, under a sky full of stars with all these feelings that seem to have come out of nowhere this summer. So, I lied.
Keep my secret, Diary!
Lyla