“I’m taking the boat out,” Charlie says to my niece. “Would you like to come?”
She nods, tongue-tied.
“Heather?”
She grins between Charlie and me. “You couldn’t keep me away.”
“Think we can convince Nan to join us?”
My niece shakes her head.
“She was too tired to do the stairs today,” Heather says.
“I can help with that.” Charlie calls to where my grandmother sits on the deck, “It’s time to get you out on the lake, Nan.”
Even if I didn’t photograph it, the image of Charlie carrying my grandmother down the thirty-two wooden steps to the dock will be permanently etched onto my brain.
Nan sits beside Charlie in the passenger seat, and Heather, Bennett, and I sit up front. Tears stream down Nan’s cheeks as we sail across the water, and I’m not sure if it’s from the wind or whether she’s caught up in the moment.
I commit it all to film, and every so often, I find Charlie looking at me with a smile as lethal and magnificent as the sun.
We travel to the southern end of the lake to the narrow mouth of the river, and when we pass a couple on a Jet Ski, he presses the horn.
Aaaah-whoooo-gaaaaah!
Bennett cracks up, a gasping-for-breath laugh that has Heather smiling at her daughter with wonder. I can almost hear what’srunning through her mind—that if her kid can laugh like that, she’s doing okay.
I make my way to the back of the boat and sit behind Charlie. We don’t talk; I just want to be close to him.
“How do the Everly women feel about grabbing a bite?” Charlie asks when we approach the Bent Anchor.
“Pro,” says Heather.
“Alice?” He looks at me over his shoulder.
“I didn’t bring my wallet.”
His gaze dances around my face. I missed that naughty grin. “Then I guess you’ll owe me.”
I take photos of everything. Charlie escorting Nan to the patio, her arm in his. The oversized pours of white wine. The basket of fries and platter of nachos. Charlie listening to Nan describe what Heather and I were like as children. Charlie looking at me. I shoot until Heather confiscates my camera and passes it to him for safekeeping.
Bennett and I sit on the end of the restaurant’s dock when we’re done, waiting as Charlie pays the bill. We’re not saying much of anything, just kicking our toes in the water, watching a group of teenagers jump into the river from the nearby bridge. She leans her head on my shoulder, and I wrap my arm around her. I hear the click of my camera.
Bennett and I both turn around. Charlie is holding my Pentax up to his eye.
“You won’t want to forget this,” he says. “Smile.”
But I’m already smiling. I let Charlie take my picture.
“Bennett, come here for a sec,” Heather calls from the boat, and my niece pops to her feet.
“One more,” Charlie says, crouching beside me. He turns the camera around, an old-fashioned selfie.
“Really?” I ask him.
“Really.”
We’re still looking at each other when he presses the shutter.
