Page 11 of Barefoot Lake

I put my elbows on the bar and drop my forehead into my palms. “She’s like Rain, but wild.” I purposefully don’t describe what she looks like, having spent a large part of today trying to forget her long legs and thin pajamas.

“So, what’s the issue? You got along with Rain just fine.”

“They’re also very different. I never had it out with Rain like I did with Alice today. She came out swinging — not literally, but I wouldn’t put it past her. Rain needed my help and asked for it. I don’t think Alice thinks she needs anything from anybody. I don’t need to try to be her friend. I don’t want to be her friend. I need stability in my life.” I turn my head in my hands and peer at Eli, and I see his exasperated eye roll this time.

“Dude, you’re an idiot. Literally nothing you said sounds like a bad thing, and what tells you she’s not stable?”

“Besides you, people don’t stick around in my life. They never have. But it’s fine, and I’m fine with how things are. She’ll have her fill of Wilcox Grove soon enough and go back to Boston, so there’s no point.”

“You’ve had some shitty hands dealt to you, but that doesn’t mean they’re all going to be like that. You can’t already be resigned to becoming an old curmudgeon. We are not nearly old enough for that yet. I was joking before, but I think you might liiiike her.” Eli sing-songs the last two words, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

Honestly, it helps a little. He’s wrong, but his optimism is nice, nonetheless.

Penny comes by and places a steaming pile of mozzarella sticks on the bar between us. Those definitely improve my day, as does the burger I have after. After Eli and I dig in, he doesn’t bring up Alice again. I expect he’s hoping I’ll consider his advice, but I don’t see any circumstance where being Alice McDermott’s friend would end well for me.

CHAPTER 8

Alice

What a rude, pompous ASS! I’ve cycled through a few emotions since being evicted from Jake’s and have gotten back to angry. I pace around my kitchen, mentally reliving the last several minutes with him. I feel so small after being told to go home, like he sent me to my room. But I haven’t done anything wrong! He might have a point about home upkeep, but I’ve never owned a home before, certainly not one in the middle of nowhere, or had my own yard. I’m figuring it out as I go. I think I’m doing wonderfully, all things considered. Jake just needs to cool it and mind his own business.

I’m still fuming when the note on the fridge catches my eye again. J and a phone number.

Mom had a cell phone like almost everybody else these days and no reason to save a phone number on a piece of paper. She also didn’t leave any other numbers around for me unless there was an explanation. I still have the phone, but going through her messages feels like an invasion of privacy, and it’s a line I’m not willing to cross. She’d never have stood for Jake’s attitude, so it’s hard to imagine her letting him help.

I wish she were here to talk to. The thought sends a hard pang of loneliness through me.

I’m still trying to figure out how I want to deal with Jake when there’s a knock at the front door. It’s only been a couple of minutes since our showdown, and it’s an ungodly hour in the morning, so I figure it’s him back for round two. I march to the front of the house and yank the door open.

“You’d better be here to apolo—” The word dies on my lips when I see Piper standing before me with a small duffel bag at her feet. A squeal bursts from me as I launch myself at her, flinging my arms around her neck and knocking the wind out of her as she tries to say what sounds like “Surprise!”

I met Piper at the start of my sophomore year of college when I was working at the front desk of her freshman dorm building. We clicked almost instantly, and now it’s hard to remember what my life was like before she was in it. We lived together for the next four years before she moved to New Jersey to get her Master’s in Library Science from Rutgers. Thankfully, she came back to Boston two years later when she was done.

Now, she’s standing before me, looking a little rumpled but still frickin’ stunning. Piper is tall and slender with light brown skin and a head of the most gorgeous chocolate curls, though they’re currently popping out of a messy bun on the top of her head. She probably could have been a model if she wanted to, but she prefers to use her height to reach books on the top shelf. I grab her bag and pull her inside, setting it down next to the couch. “What are you doing here?!”

“I wanted to come sooner, and I can only stay for two days, but it’s been way too long since I’ve seen you. So I just got on a bus and came up. I wanted as much time as I could, so I took the early one. I hope that’s ok?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I hug her again. “My home is always your home, no matter where it is.”

I lead her back to the kitchen and start taking things out to make breakfast. Bacon is popping on the stove when I hear Jake’s truck pulling away.

I must make a face because Piper slides up next to me and asks, “And what was that?”

“That was a truck. I’m sure you’ve heard one before.”

“Don’t be a wise ass. You know exactly what I meant.”

I huff but stay fully focused on my frying pan. “That was Jake, my new neighbor. He’s got the personality of a bear that’s been poked in the eye with a stick. He’s basically the size of one, too. Oh, and he hates me.”

Piper barks a laugh. “That’s not possible. You’re un-hateable.”

“Not to this guy. Trust me. I’m something foul stuck to his shoe.”

“Well, screw him. It sounds like he sucks.” Piper is the most loyal person I’ve ever met, my ride-or-die.

“That’s how I want to feel, trust me. But I think he was friends with Mom. At the very least, he makes it seem like they were friendly. So, it bugs me. She was always a great judge of character, and there’s no way she’d befriend a troll.”

“Just because your mom got along with somebody, it doesn’t mean you have to. It’s not like you’re dishonoring her by being your own person. She’d yell at you for doing anything less.”