Page 143 of One Golden Summer
He was just waiting for someone to see and love him for who he really is, same as I had been. We’re opposites in so many ways, but underneath, we’re so alike.
We watched Charlie swirl Susie’s chubby legs in the water, and then Percy turned to me. “This might sound weird,” she said, and Sam started to chuckle. She glared at her husband before turning back to me. “But I had this feeling that things weren’t complete until you showed up. It’s like you were always meant to be here, Alice.”
At that, Charlie’s eyes swung to mine. “That’s because she was.”
We brought Nan back to the lake with us, too. She spent a week with Charlie and me, more cheerful and agile than the previous summer. Her hip is better than it was before the surgery. She was at the cottage to witness the biggest argument of our relationship thus far: I want to paint the wood walls white, and Charlie is adamantly opposed. We were in the kitchen, washing dishes, both of us in bathing suits, me with dish gloves on, and what started as a conversation became a full-out battle that was only broken up by Nan laugh-crying from her armchair.
“John and Joyce used to have this debate every summer,” she said when we joined her in the living room. “It’s nice,” she said, “that so much has changed, but so little has, too.”
I loop my hands around Charlie’s neck now, barely aware that I’m in a room full of friends and family and colleagues. He sets his hands on my hips.
“Have you looked at it yet?” I ask.
“I have.”
I took the final portrait in the show just one month ago. I sat on a stool in my studio. No makeup. No sleek ponytail. No clothes. I stared into the lens and took my own photo. The plaque hanging beside it reads:
I hate having my photo taken. But as I began to assemble images for this show, I was inspired by the courage of my subjects. I decided it wasn’t fair of me to ask for their vulnerability without confronting my own. It’s one of the most terrifying things we all do—allow people to see us without all our protective layers.
It’s the only photograph I didn’t show Charlie before tonight.
“What do you think?” I ask him now.
Charlie’s cheeks have turned pink, and I’m suddenly worried I’ve gone too far. It takes him a moment to answer.
“It’s beautiful, Alice,” he says, his voice hoarse with emotion. He kisses my cheek. “The photo. You. The entire show. The way you throw yourself into everything you do.”
Before he’s finished speaking, I pull him tight to me and he whispers, “I love you,” in my ear.
“It’s almost time,” I say, releasing him.
“Are you ready?”
I look around the room, and then Elyse raises her hand, ushering me over. I take a breath. “Yes.”
“Because if you’re still nervous, I can strip right down. Save you from having to imagine it.”
“I know you would,” I tell him. “But I’ll be okay.”
He squeezes my hand. “You’ll be brilliant, Alice Everly.”
I stand at the front of the room, listening to Elyse’s opening remarks. When I take the microphone, I scan the faces staring back at me. Heather and Bennett and Mom. Nan and my father. Luca and Lavinia. Sam, Percy, and Susie. My friends. So many people I’ve worked with over the years. But there are also collectors and journalists and people I don’t recognize. My throat begins to close. I’m cold with nerves.
And then I find Charlie. He’s off to the side, and from where I’m standing,One Golden Summerhangs in the background over his shoulder.
I love you, he mouths to me.
I look into those extraordinary green eyes. And then I begin to speak.
