7. Lucas
LUCAS
T he Fourth of July picnic was a tradition my parents started when we moved to the lake house as little kids. Through the years, different people came and went, but it was always a great time with great people.
We had a huge spread of all the traditional foods and dad always went all out with a hefty firework display. He started planning it around February and had really dialed it in over the years. Last year, a neighboring town had consulted him on their own display.
Some of the greatest nights of my life were at these picnics. They were also responsible for some of my not so proud moments. Like the year my mom caught me with my high school girlfriend in a rowboat by the dock in a less than decent position.
This year was turning out to be downright torturous. Olivia had shown up around six, wearing these little tan shorts with white polka dots that were driving me insane. She hadn’t seen me right away, which afforded me the opportunity to watch her interact with my family and friends from a distance.
Which had been a terrible idea.
Because she looked completely natural mixing with everyone.
Too natural.
It made me itch that she continued to check boxes she shouldn’t be checking.
Eventually Adrian had caught me watching her and I’d needed to approach to disguise the fact that I’d been doing it since she arrived.
But when I’d caught up to her again after Adrian’s tour of our childhood home, it’d been while she was examining a photo of my mother that always elicited mixed emotions. I knew I hadn’t hidden it well, but Olivia had let it slide and rejoined the party without pushing the issue.
Since then, she’d been moving from group to group, chatting happily with extended family, close friends, and the bevy of acquaintances that always showed up at these parties.
I kept as close of an eye on her as I could without making it too obvious. She was fascinating. When she didn’t think anyone was watching, she took deeper breaths, as if she was steeling herself to continue socializing. But when she spoke to people, she was calm and personable.
As the night wore on, I became concerned with how difficult it was to tear my eyes away from her and decided I needed to do something about it. Needed to focus on something else .
I located my dad, who was busy putting the final touches on his firework display, and offered to help in a last ditch effort to distract myself.
“No thanks, son.”
“I’m sorry? No thanks?”
“That’s what I said. Don’t need you. Set up a blanket for you over by the willow.”
“Dad. I’m not eight years old. I don’t need you setting up a spot for me. I can help.”
“Absolutely not. Don’t steal my joy. Now go! I’m getting started here in a few minutes.”
Granted, we rarely helped with the fireworks, since dad was so particular about his set up, but I never thought I’d be blatantly turned away from the task.
Instead, I made my way toward the big weeping willow tree on the edge of our property. It was a beautiful spot, but usually fairly abandoned for the fireworks since the nature of the tree put a damper on firework viewing.
So when I saw a lone blanket tucked under the dragging branches, I wasn’t surprised. I was, however, surprised to see a small brunette sitting on said blanket.
Suddenly my dad’s insistence that I not help was making sense. I let out a sigh packed with all the frustration of family meddling and approached the blanket containing the woman I’d avoided most of the day.
“Hey.” Great. Awesome start.
“Hi! I hear these fireworks are getting started soon.”
“Yeah, I was just down there. Pops said a few minutes. Mind if I join you?”
“Oh. No, of course not. I thought it was kind of an odd spot for firework viewing, but Adrian insisted and then took off.”
Of course he had. My family was going to hear about this.
I tried to explain. “It’s definitely an obstructed view, but it’s been my spot since I was a kid. The tree’s gotten bigger, but I’m stubborn and refuse to move.”
And my whole family knew it. So they’d plopped Olivia here with obvious intentions.
“It’s pretty magical. I’ve always loved willows. Sitting under them like this. It’s like being insulated from the world.”
Making a hum of agreement, I sat down on the blanket next to her.
Offhandedly, I wondered if I’d ever meet another woman who shared my affinity for willow trees. It was more than a little inconvenient that each new bit of information I learned about Olivia Dawson made me hungry for more.
The realization made me question whether I actually had any power in this situation or was just kidding myself.
I watched her study each of the houses dotting the lake shore. Her expression was calculating, like she was in the middle of a puzzle, but right on the cusp of connecting two large sections together.
I saw the moment it clicked.
“Did this entire neighborhood hire you and your brothers to renovate their homes?”
I stretched my legs in front of me and leaned back on flattened palms. “At one time or another, yes. ”
“That’s… incredible. That they all trusted you? Over how many years?”
“We did them all in about three years.”
Her face registered extreme shock. Rightfully so. It’d been a huge undertaking, but a purposeful one. These homes had launched our business. The work we got as a result of our hard work here had been the absolute backbone of the company in the early days. We wouldn’t have succeeded without it.
“What?! Three years? How the hell did you pull that off? There must be twenty houses around this lake.”
“Finding the subcontractors was a nightmare, but we worked it out. We had a pretty efficient schedule that moved them from job to job so we were able to combine efforts.”
“But how did you get everyone to agree to renovate at the same time? All of them to hire you?”
This information wasn’t something I usually offered to people in casual conversation. Then again, no conversation with Olivia felt casual. I always felt stripped bare.
I turned to look into her eyes. In the nighttime light, they reminded me of pools of maple syrup. Deep, rich, and decadent.
“Alessi Construction is a co-op. Everyone in this neighborhood is part owner.”
Olivia just stared at me blankly. Like she was having trouble computing this new information. I stayed silent and let her process. It wasn’t a big deal to me, but anytime I told people, I ?got pretty strong reactions .
“That’s… wow. I can’t believe that. Everyone? That’s incredible. What made you do it that way?”
I don’t know why, but the words spilled out of me before I could think about how much personal information I was sharing.
“After my mom passed, my dad sort of lost his way. He’s the best man in the world, but he needed time to mourn losing the love of his life.
He was disappearing into his grief, while trying to show up at his job every day and perform.
I knew he needed something else. So we started the company.
To relieve some of his financial burden, but also to give him another focus. ”
Olivia’s eyes went soft.
“Your dad must have been so grateful. And proud.”
That reaction was new to me. Usually, when people learned about the co-op, they focused on the profit sharing aspect. To be fair, I rarely told anyone the catalyst for starting the company.
“He doesn’t really know. I mean, he knows when and what, but not why.”
Olivia gave an understanding hum. There was something else beneath it, something I couldn’t identify.
“Everyone must have had a lot of confidence and trust in you to invest in your vision that heavily. If I were a parent, my children eliciting that trust in others would be a huge point of pride.”
Despite my best efforts, a slow smile spread across my face. I couldn’t believe how precisely she’d identified why our company meant so much to me. It was the embodiment of people I cared about trusting me .
It was also the reason I couldn’t afford to lose Helen’s project.
And why I absolutely should not be on a blanket next to the lake with this woman. So many people counted on me to keep Alessi Construction successful.
“Yeah. I think he is proud, actually. Though I think he’d be proud if we’d joined the circus. He’s just that kind of dad.”
Olivia grinned and hummed an agreement. In her eyes I could see a potent pain that lanced through my heart. She’d told me she’d lost her dad and I could see the loss written all over her, wafting from her spirit like a morning frost warmed by the sun.
“What was your old man like?”
Her face went soft, tinted with an air of remorse.
“He was amazing. Kind and patient. Steady and present. The real meaning of a dad.”
“And a skilled cook? That dish you brought was his recipe?”
She chuckled at that. It hit me in my gut how much I enjoyed making her laugh.
“I wouldn’t call him a good cook per se, but he did have a few ‘specialties’ as he called them.” She shot me an assessing look before seeming to make a decision and looking back out on the lake.
“My dad was adopted. He was five years old when he went to live with my grandparents. He’d been through a lot and was having a difficult time adjusting. Cooking together was how they bonded with him.”
“They sound like good people.”
“They were.” Olivia smiled sadly with a tilt of her head. “I never met them. They died before I was born, but my dad told me so many stories. I felt like I knew them. They loved him so much.”
I plucked a dandelion from beside the blanket and handed it to Olivia. She took it from me with a shake of her head and a begrudging smile, contained by her teeth as she fought to keep it in. Returning her hidden grin, I held my plastic cup in the air for a toast. “To dads.”
She rewarded me with a sad, but genuine, smile as she clunk her cup to mine. “To dads.”
In front of us, the first firework lit, exploding in a display of bright white and red.
It captured Olivia’s attention and she shifted her focus to the explosions in the sky.
I watched as her expression quickly slid from a resigned sadness to one of wonder and joy.
It was mesmerizing, being able to read every emotion on her face.
I’d never met anyone so expressive before.
We watched in comfortable silence as dad sent up one after another in a steady rhythm. Every so often I glanced over to take in Olivia’s wide, shining eyes, lit up by the happiness glowing out of her.
When she caught me looking, she whispered, “There’s something magical about watching them through the tree branches. It adds to the beauty somehow.”
As she turned back to the bright display popping across the sky behind wilted branches, my eyes stayed fixed on the curve of her face.
“Yes, it does.”