Page 32 of Barefoot Lake

“I’m sorry. For being an ass the last few days.”

I blink stupidly back at him. I was not expecting an apology from Jake since I basically turned his life upside down these past few days. I try to brush it off.

“What? No. You weren’t. You…”

I stop when Jake looks at me, completely unamused. He kind of looks like the emoji with the horizontal line for a mouth. I should get an award for not laughing.

“Ok, yeah. You were. Why were you?”

“I think I’m mad at your mom for leaving.” The rawness of his admission shocks me even more than his apology. I can practically feel his pain, and it reminds me of my own. “And now I feel like an even bigger ass for saying that to somebody who just lost their mom.” He groans and folds forward until his forehead thuds against the tabletop.

I push back my chair and walk around the table to stand beside him. I put my hand on his shoulder, feeling the heat of him even through the blanket and his cold, wet shirt. The man is still a furnace even though he took a swan dive into a freezing lake before sunrise.

“It’s ok, Jake. Sometimes, I’m mad at her for leaving, too.”

He picks his head up off the table to look at me and when he sits up straight, I realize how close we are. Since he’s such a giant, even seated, we’re not too far from eye level, and I’m not a short girl.

“First, I thought you were just some vapid city girl here to bring down the neighborhood. Once I figured out who you really were, I think I projected some of that resentment on you. I figured you’d be leaving soon, too, and it didn’t matter anyway.”

He’s vulnerable in a way I never would have expected so soon after meeting him, especially not with how cold he’s been most of our time together. I immediately warm to him even more.

Grieving is hard. It’s exhausting.

I give him the only stability I can offer.

“For now, I’m sticking around.”

Thoughts of responsibilities waiting for me in Boston ping around in my head, but I lock them in a box for now.

He nods and takes another swig of coffee, draining the mug. He stands, and I step back to give him space. He folds the blanket over the back of my chair. His shirt is still plastered to his body.

Do not check him out, Alice.

“Thanks for the coffee and” He vaguely waves his hand toward the table like our conversation is something corporeal sitting atop the surface. “everything. Talking.”

We walk to my front door. Jake collects his discarded clothing, shoving his bare feet into his wet boots.

“Anytime. And I’m sorry again about your boat.”

Jake shrugs. “I guess the universe felt like I needed one more swim in the lake this season.”

CHAPTER 15

Jake

I’ve felt lighter since I left Alice’s house after the I-fell-in-a-lake incident. I tell myself it’s because it feels good not to have a toxic dislike for the person living beside me and not because I might like her, but there’s no need to focus on that for too long. Just like there’s no need to focus on the tension I felt when she stood beside me with her hand on me that morning.

It was nothing. We’d just bonded over shared pain, nothing more. Nothing.

I now know she’s not here to destroy the town and bring down property values, so we can just be cordial neighbors.

It’s been impossible not to notice her, though. Since my brain figured out I was done being a complete tool to Alice, it started taking a lot of notice. It’s like I’m attuned to her, and her mere presence raises the hairs on the back of my neck. When that happens, I can’t help but look. And then I can’t pull myself away.

One day, I see Grateful Bob come by with his truck to help Alice pull her boat out of the lake for the winter, presumably taking it to storage. I’d brought mine to the marina the day it made its escape attempt and wanted to offer to pull Alice’s out, too, but she wasn’t home when I knocked. I regret not offering when I’d seen her home another time. I pointedly don’t ask myself why.

I watch Grateful Bob show her how to drain the fluids for winter from my window before realizing I’m being a creep and go back to minding my own business. Grateful Bob is a kind man, and I know he was happy to teach her, but I still wish she had asked me for help.

I try to shake it off and go about my business. Fall is busy at the nursery with the pumpkin patch and apple orchard. Plus, I’m putting a lot of time into the new Christmas trees to make sure I didn’t drive all the way to Canada for them just to let them die. I have visions of a sprawling field filled with hearty trees for families to bring back home. I need to stay focused, or something will slip.