13
Sunday, June 29
64 Days Left at the Lake
As if conjured by Heather’s will alone, an email from Elyse arrives the next morning. It’s a draft invitation for the opening ofIn (Her) Camera—she wants my opinion.
“What are you scowling at?” Nan asks from across the table.
“Nothing.”
She blinks at me over the rim of her glasses. “Alice. You are a wretched liar.”
I really am. “It’s just a message about the show.”
“I was thinking I’d prefer to come with you than stay here,” Nan says.
“All the driving on top of the event would be too much for you, Nan. Besides, I’d rather not leave the lake. You know I don’t love being in a crowd or making speeches.” Elyse has asked if I’d mind saying a few words at the reception.
Nan opens her mouth to respond but is cut off by a knock at the door.
It’s eight a.m., and the air is cool. Mist swirls over the lakeand the stones on the walkway glisten with dew. There’s also a handsome man in a denim shirt on the doorstep. He has dark eyes, brown skin, a trim beard, a ballcap, and a pair of worn-looking steel-toed boots.
“Uh…hi?” I’m not my most eloquent when faced with gorgeous strangers first thing in the morning. I’m still in my jammies.
“I’m taking it that Charlie didn’t tell you I was coming by.” He has a grocery bag in one hand.
I shake my head, and he offers his free hand. “Harrison Singh. I’m one of Charlie’s buddies.”
“Alice Everly,” I say, taking his calloused palm. His grip is strong. Everything about him looks strong. What do they put in the water up here?
“Charlie got tied up with something this morning, so he asked me to run these out to you on my way to work.” He gestures to the black truck he’s arrived in. There are two end tables in the back.
“Oh. Thank you. I’m sorry he had you up this early,” I say, folding my arms over my chest. My skin is pebbling in the crisp air, and my shorts and cami are too skimpy for a stranger’s eyes. “It wasn’t urgent.”
“I don’t mind at all.” The smile Harrison gives me is shy but definitelyinterested. I’m not sure what to do with that and find myself blushing in return.
Harrison passes me the bag. “Charlie also wanted me to bring you these. He said you forgot them at the store yesterday.”
I peek inside. The bag is full of English cucumbers.
“What do you need all these cucumbers for?”
“I might whack Charlie over the head with one, for starters.”
Harrison gives me a puzzled look.
“I’m just kidding. He thinks he’s pretty funny, huh?”
“He does.” He shrugs. “And he is. Let me bring these in for you.”
I offer to help, but Harrison insists on carrying the tables into the living room. I introduce him to Nan, and she tries to get him to stay for coffee.
“I’d love to,” he tells her. “But my grandfather will rip into me if I’m late.”
“You work with your grandfather?” I ask.
“With my dad, too. We build houses.”
