Page 44 of One Last Summer
Last night I’d forced myself into the water and willed my body to thrash its way to victory. Today I just dropped in, sinking into the cool arms of the lake, paddling out far enough to where I could no longer touch the bottom before flipping onto my back to float. I stretched my arms and legs out wide, a star searching for its light. Overhead was only sky, the evening sun holding on against pale blue, with cloud strokes dotting its canvas.
“Sabatikos,” I said quietly, remembering the word Lydia had read to me off her phone the other night. Today was Sunday, the Sabbath. A day of rest. Did this count? I could still feel the tightness across my face, the stiffness in my neck, and a gnawing sensation of fatigue, the ever-present bookend to countless sleepless nights.
But there was something else happening too. The constant barrage of thoughts that normally funneled through my head had slowed. My limbs relaxed in the water, softening like butter left out all day on the kitchen counter. I said the word again, and then filled my chest with air, breathing it out slowly as my body dipped slightly with the gentle current of the water.
Just when I decided I could stay out on the water forever, there was a splash nearby, and it jolted me out of my meditative state into a heart-racing panic, as if a great white shark had magically willed its way into a fresh body of water, or the Loch Ness monster decided to give up Scotland for the slightly less damp wilds of New Hampshire.
I flipped around to tread frantically, legs kicking under me, and there, only about ten feet in front of me, was a loon. Loons and lakes went hand in hand in New Hampshire, and I’d seen plenty in my lifetime. Their melancholy wails were so common throughout the summer nights here that lulls of quiet felt downright odd after the sun fell.
But I’d never seen one this close, so near I could see the way the bird’s long neck, ringed in black and white feathers, seemed to pull the rest of its body through the water. It was mesmerizing. She twisted her head in my direction, beady red eyes staring at me, through me, past me.
“Hi,” I croaked, my voice a hoarse whisper. “You’re so beautiful.”
She dipped her head toward the water and shot all the way underneath, so fast it was like she’d almost never existed at all.
“Bye,” I said, because I was a person who talked out loud to birds now. I didn’t even care if it couldn’t understand me. I felt elated, high on the magic of nature.
“Goodbye,” a voice said, and for the second time in minutes, I jolted my body around in a panic.
“Jesus Christ, Mack.” Of course he was there, floating high and mighty in a bright orange kayak like a knight who’d just strode into town on some massive horse.
“Making new friends?” he asked, and goddamnit, he was still shirtless.
“Yes, I finally found someone who understands me.” I sucked in a breath and let my body drop below the surface, escaping the weight of his gaze before popping back up to find him hovering over the edge of the kayak, watching me.
“I’m so happy for you,” he said, dipping his paddle into the water to steady himself.
“Actually, I came down here to find you,” I said, treading in place. “But you weren’t in the boathouse.”
Mack shrugged. “I had some things to check out.”
“On your kayak?” I asked.
He just nodded. “What’d you need?”
“I don’t need anything.” Suddenly self-conscious, I reached a hand up out of the water to smooth out my hair. “I just wanted to apologize. For what I said earlier. About your job.”
“It’s okay, Millen. It’s not going to be my job much longer.” I’d never heard Mack sound bitter, but this was close. He pushed the paddle back into the water, sending the kayak forward just a bit. “Besides, it kinda looks like you’re jealous, don’t you think?”
“Of what, your job?” I kicked faster to catch up with him. “No. I love what I do.”
He twisted around, eyeing me with a cocked brow. “It’s just that you made a crack about my job and how all it requires is floating around on the lake, and yet, you’re out here. Floating. On the lake.”
His paddle hit the water with a decisive splash, and off he went ahead of me, as if he was deliberately trying to get me to admire his taut shoulders. It worked, and even as I dove underwater with my eyes closed, all I could see was his body, shifting from side to side.
He was dragging the boat onto the sandy shore by the time I caught up to him.
“Seriously, though,” I said, squeezing the excess water out of my hair, “I’m sorry.”
Mack hoisted the kayak up onto the wooden rack that sat beside the lake, yet another opportunity for me to ogle his muscles as they flexed. He nodded, flipping a strand of hair onto his forehead as he turned back around, eyeing me with his arms crossed in front of his chest.
“Okay, Millen, I accept your apology.”
His phone dinged in his pocket—which made me remember I’d left mine up at Sunrise—but he didn’t even reach for it. It beeped again, and the sound caused me to look directly at his shorts, which then set off a whole fireworks show of racy thoughts in my head. Gooddamnit.
“Um, okay, good,” I said, suddenly very aware of how little clothing we were both wearing. I wrapped my arms tightly around my chest. “Do you have a towel I can borrow? I’d ask for a T-shirt but you’re not wearing one.”
Did he notice the way I pressed my lips together tightly, trying to stave off the heat pushing its way onto my cheeks? If he did, he didn’t let on. That, or he didn’t care.
