Page 9

“Fine. I haven’t had the chance to mow the lawn yet, so you can do that.” He reached into his pocket and tossed her the keys to the mower.

She shuffled backward and saluted him. “Brilliant, on it.”

He harrumphed as he watched her walk away, jealous that he couldn’t sit down on a mower for an hour. It was supposed to be his easiest job of the day. “You owe me one of your IPAs!” he shouted.

She turned back to face him and grinned. “When Moody Archer is done making an appearance, Fun Archer can join me on my porch anytime!”

He flicked her off, which had her cackling all the way to the shed.

Archer rubbed his eyes, exhausted. Rhonda had a point; he was acting moody. He didn’t even act that way when Janelle broke up with him, despite how gutted he’d felt. Bartending at Hermes Lounge was enough of a motivation to get out of bed. Rattling off cocktail combinations at the speed of light calmed his thoughts. Margarita. Half ounce lime juice, half ounce agave, one ounce orange liquor, one and half tequila. Negroni. One ounce Campari, one ounce sweet vermouth, one ounce gin. Cocktail measurements were the only numbers that made sense to him. If only taxes and spreadsheets could be that easy.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, pushing those feelings of anger down into his belly, imagining them shrinking into a ball, smaller and smaller and smaller. When it was the size of a wild blueberry, he imagined reaching out and squishing it, then throwing the skin away.

When he blinked his eyes open, he was welcomed by a vision of Tea in the distance, wearing a blue-and-white-striped one-piece that dipped low on her back. She was at the small strip of beach by the lake, opening up a beach chair, a faded ball cap on her head covering her face.

He grumbled as he threw open the door of the shack, storming back inside. So much for that.

The day moved by at an excruciatingly slow pace. Or maybe it was the sun, which now refused to set until nine- thirty p.m. More sunlight meant more opportunities to get things done, and fewer opportunities to call it a day and steal a beer from his parents’ fridge.

But his to-do list never seemed to get smaller, so he kept going.

Archer was finally weed-whacking the lawn, cutting his way around the flagpole, when the Bramble twins approached him, shaggy blond curls piled atop their heads.

“Six feet,” he said instinctively.

“Come on, man, we’re outside,” said Danny.

“How was going downtown this weekend? Wear masks?”

Chris’s cheeks turned pink as he looked down at his feet and took a big step back. Danny crossed his arms.

Archer sighed. “What’s up guys?”

Danny held his hands up in prayer. “Arch, please can you—”

“No.”

“—convince the owners to let us have jet skis?”

The Silver Falls Lake Association was made up of five different resorts, and out of all five, Wild Pines was the only one that didn’t allow jet skis on the premises. It was the hottest topic of contention between the younger and older generations in their seven cabins; particularly with Sandy Vanderberg, who threw around her “matriarch” status like she was the president of the United States. Despite having the same debate every single year at the owners’ meeting, her argument was always the same, and it always won.

“They’re too loud going in and out of the docks, and they cause way too many injuries.” Then her face would soften as she eyed everyone in the circle. “Plus, they scare our loons.”

Archer knew the last bit of her argument wasn’t based in fact, given that the jet skis zipping out of the other four resorts on the lake were likely already scaring the loons. Yet for some reason, it was enough to swing the vote. Loons were sacred in Minnesota, and the owners of Wild Pines had it in their heads that the birds preferred nesting on “quiet” properties. Even though the Bramble twins and the rest of their teenage gang were up late every night screaming around the bonfire.

He sighed, frowning at Chris and Danny. This would be his first time attending an owners’ meeting as the manager. It also meant for the first time he would actually get a say on what they would be voting on. He’d listened in on meetings in the past, eavesdropping through cracked bedroom doors with his teenage gang when his parents hosted the meeting in their cabin. He remembered pressing his ear close to the door, knees knocking against Tea who sat right beside him. His hand brushing against her thigh, and the way her breath hitched when he quickly pulled away.

The one time he sat in the circle, he was allowed to observe but not talk—part of his summer of “learning what the manager does” with Austin, even though his brother was way more interested in making out with Riley Farrington than doing what his father asked. As a result of his protest, Archer silently followed in his father’s footsteps, deducing that the job of Wild Pines Resort Manager would fall on his shoulders. Even though he wasn’t sure he even wanted it. Could he really spend his summers managing the grounds? Mowing lawns, weed wacking, fixing old fishing cabins, cleaning the docks, keeping everything up to code for the Silver Falls Lake Association? At least the cabins were closed up during the off season, when northern Minnesota was frosted over and the lakes were frozen solid, the entire place in hibernation waiting for the spring to come. Yet that would mean giving up his entire summer of working at the cocktail lounge—making far more of a paycheck, even before the onslaught of tips he would get on a usual night. That’s if Hermes Lounge would even let him come back.

Danny kept his hands steepled under his chin, while Chris looked at him like he was their last hope. And he had no one to blame for that but himself. Last summer, when he was six beers in with Austin during their annual visit, they’d found the boys sulking by the bonfire, sad that the owners voted no on jet skis again. Austin confessed that it was “really fucking dumb of them,” and Archer, against his better judgement, had agreed.

And now the twins thought Archer was a person on their side…on the inside.

He let out another heavy sigh. “Guys, this is my first year as the manager, I don’t want to rock the boat—”

Danny fell to his knees. Chris laughed, then also held up his hands in prayer.

“Pleaseeee, oh wise one. We need you,” Danny whined.