Page 84 of One Last Summer
“Mack, I wrote that list twenty years ago. And I’ve wanted you even longer than that. You were never just a thing to check off my list.” I reached forward and dusted a sprinkling of crumbs off the sleeve of his shirt.
“I just wish you’d been honest with me about it.” He swiped a hand across his face, and in the fading light I noticed bits of brownie still in his hair.
“Like you were about buying this place?” I pushed. “Every time I brought up Pine Lake, and Marla and Steve selling it, you just stayed quiet. You should have said something.”
“I thought you said shoulds were bullshit,” he countered, testing me.
“You know what I mean, Mack.” I gesticulated as I talked, enunciating each syllable with a jab of my hands.
“And what did you want me to say, that I feel like a loser who panicked?” He paced along the side of the cabin, kicking the ground with each step. “That I just couldn’t get past the idea that maybe I’d fail? Or that I’m terrified I’d screw everything up and ruin this place?”
“I mean, it’s a start,” I said with a frustrated wave.
“It just felt easier to say no to them. And then I did, and I regretted it immediately, but I couldn’t change it. I lost it. I lost this place for me, and for you guys, and for every kid who comes here and loves it more than we ever did. That’s fucking embarrassing. I’m embarrassed, Clara.”
He exhaled, his body softening ever so slightly as if just admitting this out loud was a release.
“It was a lot easier to say yes to my parents,” he added. “At least I know I can’t mess that up.”
He sat down on the steps, and I tucked myself in next to him, finding his hand.
“My ex? Charles?” I said, my voice quieting. “I wasted almost a decade waiting around for him to propose because that’s what I thought was supposed to happen when you’re with someone for that long. And instead, he dumped me and got engaged to someone else before I even went on an actual date with someone new.”
Mack’s lips parted slightly and then closed, like there was something he wanted to say but wasn’t sure how it would land and changed his mind.
“Okay,” he said finally.
“He wears jorts now,” I said, like this explained everything. “Jean shorts.”
This got a laugh out of him, a low chuckle, then a shake of his head. “What’s wrong with jean shorts? You wear them.”
I knew he was thinking back to the pair he had peeled off me in the shower, and even in the middle of all this tension I felt heat grow from the center of my body, emanating out through every pore.
“It’s not the shorts that are wrong,” I said. “It’s that I thought I did everything right in that relationship. I played it so fucking safe. And it still failed. I failed.”
I paused for a moment, steadying my breath in an attempt to slow my pounding heart. “Anyway. I got the letter I wrote myself back on that last night of camp, and it was honestly mortifying. I let my younger self down. So I know what it’s like to feel embarrassed. I haven’t really done anything that she wanted me to do.”
His eyes fluttered across my face, and I knew instinctively what he was doing: checking in, trying to read me, making sure I was okay. This was what I now understood about Mack: Even when he was joking around with people, which was almost all the time, he was always digging a little deeper, taking the temperature, making sure the water was just right.
I rolled my eyes as I ran through younger Clara’s list off the top of my head, massaging my fingertips against my throbbing brow. “Experience joy? Do shit that scares me? Have a passionate love affair? I had no idea what life was actually like when I was that age. But it felt like a solution, you know? Some way to get my life back on track now.”
There was that look from him again, the one that looked like someone had jabbed a fist in his face, a quick flinch, something adjacent to pain.
“And yes, you did check the lover box for me, okay? And honestly, you deserve it. You are…” I trailed off, suddenly self-conscious. “It’s been amazing. Beyond what I’ve imagined being with someone could be.”
He nodded in quiet agreement.
“But you have been everything else on the list too. Joy, and fun, and sometimes scary. I made a list of things I wanted for myself when I was fifteen, and you check every single box.”
He pulled his hand from mine and wrapped his arm around my back, hugging me close. I wanted to stay like this forever, my cheek pressed against his chest, solid and steady and warm. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and let out a ragged sigh.
“I wish you’d come up earlier,” he said quietly. “Broken up with your jean-shorts boyfriend years ago.”
“I wish you weren’t moving back to California,” I replied. “And that I didn’t have to leave tonight. I wish we had more time.”
Around us, the world settled into its usual bedtime routine: colors shifting, water stilling. I loved the simplicity of this evening transformation; beyond just its beauty, it was steady and dependable, even as the seasons marched forward.
“Wow, the leaves are starting to change,” I said, noticing a flicker of yellow in the trees behind the dining hall.
