“I think that Lewis would have liked this moment,” Jack said. “The tranquility of the lake, the colors of the sunset. He always found peace in nature.”
I observed him, his profile etched against the dying light of the day. “He’d be glad to know you’re finding peace here too. Lewis would want you to remember him, of course, but also to live your life. To find joy wherever you can.”
There was another long pause, broken a moment later when Jack turned to me and said, “So, what are you all gussied up for this evening?”
I’d nearly forgotten what I was wearing. I glanced down at the sleeveless blouse I had chosen, the one with the delicate lace border that Jack had always admired. “Oh, this?” I smoothed my hands over the material self-consciously. “I just wanted to feel like a girl today.”
Jack raised an eyebrow, his gaze lingering on me longer than usual. “You certainly look like one. You always do clean up nice.”
His words stirred something in me, a strange mix of pleasure and surprise. Jack wasn’t usually one for compliments. I let out a soft chuckle, shaking my head slightly. “You think so?”
“Sure.”
My cheeks flushed, a warmth spreading through me. Despite the cool evening air, I felt a sudden heat that had nothing to do with the remnants of the day’s sunlight. “Thank you, Jack. That’s nice of you to say.”
His eyes met mine, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly in a half-smile. “You’re welcome.”
For a few long seconds, we just looked at each other. His gaze was soft yet held a certain intensity that stirred my heart. I felt compelled to say something, anything, but I sat there, my words caught in my throat. In the ensuing quiet, the sounds of nature grew louder—the wind through the trees, the distant call of a bird.
When the moment had passed, Jack turned his attention back to the lake. “It's a beautiful evening, isn't it?”
I followed his gaze out toward the water, the setting sun casting rays of gold and orange that danced across its surface. “Yes, it certainly is.”
“I reckon I could spend the rest of my life right here on this bank, looking at sunsets like this. I know some folks want fortune and fame, but not me. Simple pleasures like the chirping of crickets and good company are all I need.”
I was speechless again. His sentiment was so sincere, so genuine that it caught me off guard. “Jack,” I began, hesitating before going on. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
I swallowed, my heart pounding against my chest as if it was trying to find its way out. The question I’d held back for so long threatened to choke me, but I managed to push it out in a breathless whisper. “Would you ever want me to be a part of those simple pleasures?”
“Of course I would,” he answered without hesitation. “I reckon you and I will always be friends.”
His words were comforting, yet they sent a pang of disappointment through my heart. Friends. Just friends. I nodded slowly, forcing a smile onto my face. I wanted to ask another question, to dig deeper, to make him understand I was talking about more than mere friendship, but I didn’t. I couldn't. The fear of rejection was too much for my heart to take. Instead, I watched the sun set deeper into the lake, each second passing like an eternity. I longed for him to understand the truth behind my words, to understand the depth of my feelings. But, as the last rays of light faded and twilight began to creep in, I realized that it wasn’t time for such revelations.
At dusk, we hiked through the woods until we reached the fork in the road. And just like always, Jack went one way and Ithe other. But before we parted, I turned to him and said, “I was hoping we could go out on the water one last time before I leave for school. You know, for old times’ sake.”
Jack paused, a shadow of uncertainty dimming his eyes. He glanced at me, then back to the path leading to his house. He seemed to consider the possibilities for a moment. “Sure,” he finally said. “How about tomorrow evening, after work? We can bring the fishing gear if you want, maybe try our luck at snagging one last catfish.”
“Tomorrow is fine, but let’s leave the gear. I’ve already caught my fair share of fish this summer. I just want to ride around and take in the scenery one last time, if that’s all right.”
His nod was slow, thoughtful. “All right, just the scenery it is.”
As he walked away, his figure growing smaller in the fading light, a pang of sorrow clenched my heart. Tomorrow would be bittersweet, a final farewell to the lake that held so many precious memories.
That night, I stayed up later than normal, watching the moon rise high into the star-studded sky. I’d done it again—chickened out, too afraid to voice my true feelings. It was the same old tug of war between my heart and my fear. But as I lay there, I made a promise to myself. Tomorrow, I would tell Jack everything. No more hiding, no more pretending. Just the raw, unfiltered truth.
7
The next dayseemed to drag on as I went about my chores. My mind wandered constantly, to Jack, to the lake, to the words that I had yet to voice.
Yvonne called just after noon, and we talked for a good while. Her voice was a comforting distraction, yet even she seemed to sense my preoccupation.
“You’re awfully quiet today,” she said.
“Just thinking,” I replied, my voice far away. But Yvonne wasn’t easily fooled, knowing me as she did.
“Are you thinking about Jack again?”
