The Lake (The Lake Trilogy, Book 1) (8 page)

It’s still early when we pull up to the house. I reach for the handle to the door and begin to thank Will for inviting me tonight, introducing me to his friends, and for the ride home. Before I can speak a sound he instructs me to wait and he’s out of the car, on his way to my door – again with the gentlemanly behavior.

I step out of the car and say thank you. Will immediately asks, “Have you been down to the
lake…at night…I mean…yet? It’s really…beautiful.” He’s uncharacteristically stumbling over his words, which makes me smile a little because it’s cute.

“No, actually, I haven’t. I hadn’t even thought of going down there at night. I’m not the best swimmer, so I figured I’d only go near water when there was some hope of rescue.” I laugh nervously. My heart is beating so fast that I’m sure he can hear it.

He smiles that perfect smile and says, “I’d rescue you…again.”

I smile nervously and step away from the car so Will can close the door. We walk around the side of the house and go through the gate there. I’m bubbling
with curiosity with every step.

What is he doing?

The lights are on in the back of the house, both inside and out, and I can see Luke and Claire in the kitchen.

“Hold on a sec…I just want to let them know I’m home.” I tap on the back door and open it quickly. Popping my head inside I say, “I’m back. I’m just going to walk down to the dock for a few minutes…with Will.” Claire grins and tells me its fine.

“Don’t stay out there too late, Layla. The outside lights are on a timer and will go off at eleven.” Luke gives me a look that I can’t decipher
, but he seems like he enjoyed giving some parental direction, so I just smile.

I close the door and join Will. “Everything ok?” he asks.

“Yeah.” I put my purse down on the patio table and lead the way to the dock.

The path seems longer tonight and the farther we get from the house, the darker it becomes. Then suddenly, as if by magic, everything in front of me begins to glow. It’s angelic. I stop at the end of the path in total and complete awe. There are small lights glowing from each of the posts along the dock. They aren’t bright, but are just enough to light the way.  I’ve almost forgotten Will is with me until I hear him say, “I told you.”

“You were
so
right,” is all I can say. I thought I had been in awe at the daytime view, but this… this is beyond words. “You’ve…been down here a lot?” I ask.

“Not a lot. But enough to know it’s a view not to be missed,” he says staring out onto the glowing water. How does he do that? He’s too smooth and eloquent in his speech to be a typical 18-year-old boy.
Maybe that’s just it. Will is anything but typical.

At that moment
, I am unexpectedly intrigued by him. It’s more than his face or stature, or even the hospitality he’s shown me. A switch has flipped and all I know is that I want to know him. I’ve never wanted to know someone like this before. There’s depth to him, more than I had initially given him credit for having. Tonight, and over the past few weeks, Will has shown himself to be the opposite of who I assumed he would be. Now…now I’m in trouble. I’ve spent so much time trying to push every thought of him out of my mind only to find myself now completely spellbound.

I sit down on the dock, removing my shoes as I always do so that I don’t lose one…or both. Will removes his shoes, too, and sits down next to me on my left. He sits close, but not too close. We’re there for a long time, just staring at the water and the moon’s reflection. It’s a still night, so there’s no rustling of the trees, no ripples on the water. No sound but a cricket every twenty seconds.

I’ve never been alone like this with a boy. Will is easy to be with, but it’s still foreign. A surge of nervousness shoots through me so hard that I can feel it in my teeth. A few slow, deep breaths and I’m fine again.

“I’m sorry I was so evasive earlier…when you asked about Luke and Claire,” I say. “It
is
complicated, but I don’t mind telling you…if you’re still interested.” I look up and over at him to see what his response, if any, is, wondering if my refusal earlier cut him off from caring any further about the subject, but he surprises me.

He turns his head and catches my eyes. “I am
very
interested in
everything
you have to say, Layla.”

My heart leaps inside my chest. He shouldn’t say such things. He clearly has no idea the effect he has on me. Being here with Will…it’s the first time in a very long time that my desire to share a part of myself with someone is outweighing my fear of any consequences. My heart begins to race again. I take a few more, hopefully not-so-obvious, deep breaths and give Will the not-so-abridged version of the drama.

“Well…hmm…where to start. I was seven the first time I met Luke and Claire. We all went to Orlando to have Christmas with Gram and Gramps. Luke and Claire had been married a couple of years, I guess. We did Christmas morning at our house and then drove to Gram and Gramps’ house, which was three and a half hours away. The plan was to open gifts with everyone, stay for dinner, and then drive home. Sounds nice, right?” Will nods. “Well, we did the gift thing, which was fun for me as the only kid, and then we
started
to eat dinner.

”
I was only seven so I didn’t completely get it, but I knew
something
was up. Luke would say something about how his job at the law firm was going, and Dad would say something like ‘Well, that’s great that you’ve decided where your loyalties are.’ Then both of them would look to Gramps. It’s like they were each waiting for him to show support of their point of view and reprimand the other one, but he never said anything.” I take a long pause, hoping I’m not painting my dad as a terrible person. “I had three bites of turkey and one bite of mashed potatoes before Dad declared we were leaving. I gave Gram and Gramps kisses while they told me how much they loved me and were glad we had come. Then we gathered my gifts, packed up the car, and drove home. We were there for two and a half hours.”

“Wow. I don’t even know what to say. That’s terrible
,” he says but then corrects himself. “Sorry. That was rude. Here you are telling me such private things and I’m just letting anything fly out of my mouth. You don’t have to tell me anything else. I’d understand. But…I’m listening, and I am interested, if you want to keep talking.” His eyes are piercing in the glow of the moonlight and I’m distracted yet again.

“No…I want to tell you.” The corners of my mouth lift into a small smile realizing the depth of truth to that statement. “I can’t talk to Luke or Claire about any of this. Not yet at least. So it’s nice to have someone to talk to. Thank you.” I smile to convey my sincerity. “Looking back on it, I still don’t know or understand what happened.
My parents never spoke of Luke and Claire, and the next time I saw them was at my parent’s funeral, five years later. My parents…they died in a car accident when I was twelve.”

“Oh
, my gosh, Layla. Mr. Weston said that your parents had passed away, but he didn’t say anything about an accident. I’m so sorry.”

“It was really hard at first, but Gram and Gramps took me in, so, I at least had somewhere to go. Luke and Claire never said a word to me then, and I didn’t talk to them either. So, like I said, when Gramps died, that was the third time I’d ever laid eyes on them. I’m not sure why they didn’t come to Gram’s funeral. She died two years after I moved in with them.

“So…to finally answer your question…I don’t call them ‘uncle’ or ‘aunt’ because that implies a relationship we just don’t have. I’m getting to know them and I’m hopeful it will change one day.” I feel surprisingly relieved. I’ve never talked to anyone about this. I was so used to keeping it to myself that I’m almost shocked at my ability to share so freely, but that’s what Will does to me.

Maybe it’s the way he looks me square in the eyes, or the way he turns his whole body to give me his full attention, but my heart wants to be an open book to him. I just have to get my head on the same page. Gram laid the foundation for my inability to trust and I have to force myself to not put everyone in her boat. If I hadn’t had Gramps to show me the only kindness I received in that home, I’m sure I wouldn’t have come here. It was because of him that I was able to retain
some softness in my heart.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

“For what?”

“For your trust. I asked you a personal question earlier today, when I had no right to. I appreciate you trusting me…because you can.” He shifts his weight and his right hand moves from his lap to the dock and for a split second I think that he might try to hold my hand or put his arm around me, but it rests there on a single plank. It was a silly thought and I chastise myself for having it.
Silly girl.

I’m quiet. I want to change the subject. I really don’t like talking about me, and this is the most I ever have, so I break the silence and ask, “Do you mind if I ask
you
a question?” I hope the trust goes both ways, but I have no guarantees.

“Of course. You can ask me anything.” I believe him. He has a way of answering with just the right words and expression on his face to not make me doubt a single syllable that leaves his beautiful mouth.

“Gwen said something earlier today about your parents not wanting you to play sports. What’s that about? Isn’t this supposed to be a big high school football town?”

“Oh, that. Well, it’s not really that big a deal. My parents just don’t want me to put all my extra time toward something that doesn’t have ‘long term potential.’” He makes air quotation marks and rolls his eyes slightly. “I’m slated to
go to Princeton like my dad. He had a wing of the library named after him or something, so…” He doesn’t sound as enthusiastic as someone who is guaranteed a spot at one of the most prestigious schools in the country should. He sounds…embarrassed. Maybe it’s because he didn’t get in on his own. I suppose if his dad made a donation large enough to have a building named after him, he can demand that his kid be accepted.

“So if you’re guaranteed a spot, what difference should it make whether you play sports or not?” I ask.

“It shouldn’t. But…my father and I disagree about a lot of things. Going to Princeton is just the tip of the iceberg,” he says.

“What do you mean?” I’m trying to make sense of it. Why would he
not
want to go to Princeton?

“Well, that’s the complicated part. You see…” He doesn’t get to finish because it is at that moment that all of the outside lights shut off both at the back of the house and at the dock where we are sitting. It’s eleven o’clock already?

“Oh, no, the light!” I say, now fearful of how to make it back up to the house without breaking my leg. Right now the moon is bright enough to cast all the light we need to see each other here on the dock, and we’ll be fine about halfway up the flagstone path, but after that it’ll be difficult to see. “Well, this should be interesting,” I think out loud.

“Oh, c’mon...it won’t be so bad. You’ve walked this path at least
50 times already. You know your way. And…I’ll be with you. I do have a little experience in catching you, should you fall.” He smiles playfully and I can’t help but mirror him.

We put our shoes back on and stand up. When we reach the edge of the dock I revisit where we left off in our conversation. “So…you were about to tell me why things with your parents are complicated.” I hope he hasn’t changed his mind about sharing with me.

“You don’t let things go, do you?” He chuckles as I shake my head. “Well, I was going to say that I just don’t have the same aspirations as my father. He sees success and wealth as the greatest things someone can achieve.”

“And you don’t see it that way.” This isn’t a question, but a pleasant observation on my part.

“No, I don’t. I…uh…I actually really enjoy the work I’m doing with your uncle. My dad knows that and hates it. He thinks that kind of work is for people who don’t have any other options. He only lets me come here because he won’t let me get a real job.” He shakes his head. “The real issue is that I only have a few months to figure out what I’m going to do,” he says almost to himself. He doesn’t sound like he has a clue what his answer might be.

I feel bad for him and I don’t know what to say. My parents never had an issue with anything I did. Even if they were still alive today, I don’t think they would have cared all that much if I chose to go to college or not.

By this time we’re in almost complete darkness trying to follow the flagstone path back to the house. I stumble and Will catches me, for the second time today. “Here, give me your hand, just in case you stumble again. I’d hate to miss catching you.” I take his hand without a word or hesitation. It’s just as I remember it – strong, but gentle.

He holds my hand with such assurance, and I know he won’t let me fall. The same surge of nervousness that I felt earlier rushes through me again. My heart races so fast I can barely breathe
, but with each step we take it subsides because holding Will’s hand feels strangely normal. Like our hands were meant to fit together.

We make it back to the patio unscathed where there is a little bit of light coming from the kitchen. I grab my purse off the patio table and try the door. It’s unlocked. Will walks in behind me, and I walk him to the front door as an easier, better-lit course to his car. I open the front door and stand with him on the porch.