Page 106 of The Long Way Home
I see the rest of my life stretched out before me, hers and mine entwined, inevitable and fucking breathtaking.
Chapter Twenty-four
RHETT
Seven Years Ago
The Annual Lake House Trip
The lake house looks more worn than I remember. Time has peeled the paint from the siding, and the porch boards groan under each step, like they’re warning us to tread carefully. The air is thick with the scent of pine needles and damp soil. Somewhere out back, a thin ribbon of smoke curls from a nearby firepit, trailing skyward before dissolving into the morning haze.
We pull up just after sunrise. The sky is a washed-out gray, like it hasn’t made up its mind whether it wants to be day or night. The gravel crunches under our tires as we park, and even before we fully unload the car, I spot Josh already rummaging through the cooler, pulling out a beer like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
He twists the cap off with one hand and takes a slow pull while he leans back against the side of the deck. His shoulders areloose, his jaw slack with sleep or peace—I can’t tell which. He looks like someone who left all his worries on the drive up and has no intention of picking them back up anytime soon.
Rachel steps beside me, her hoodie zipped halfway up, and her hair pulled back in that effortless way that always looks better on her than it ever could on anyone else. She doesn’t say anything at first. She stands there, eyes on Josh.
I can’t tell what she’s thinking.
“You serious right now?” she asks. “It’s seven-thirty in the morning, and you’ve already started drinking?”
Josh turns, barely blinking. “Technically, we’re on vacation. So it’s five o’clock somewhere?”
She scoffs. “That doesn’t magically make it okay for you to start drinking this early. Come on, Margo, tell him.”
Josh leans back on the porch rail, letting the bottle hang from his fingers. “The sun is up, Rach. That’s all I need.”
Margo walks past carrying some groceries. “I’m staying out of it. You know how he gets out here, Rach.”
Rachel drags her bag across the gravel and up the steps. “You’re going to feel like shit by noon.”
Josh gives her a half-shrug. “That’s a problem for future Josh.”
She shakes her head, but I see the smile pull at her mouth before she looks away.
Josh catches it, too. He grins and holds the bottle toward her. “Want one?”
Rachel makes a face. “No thanks. I still haven’t had any caffeine.”
“More for me.” Josh takes a drink again.
She walks past him and pushes the screen door open. It smacks against the frame on the way back like it always does.
Margo stands beside him now. The sunlight hits her hair as she smiles at Josh. She looks at him like he is the only thing in the world that matters.
“It’s like you two revert to being teenagers when you get out by this lake.” She jokes while placing a kiss on Josh’s cheek.
“I just like to rile her up. I’ll be good, I promise.” He gives Margo a classic Josh grin, and she laughs.
After breakfast and a half-hearted attempt at unpacking, we finally make our way down the worn path to the dock. The hours that follow blur into sun and water. We drift between the lake, cooling off, stretching out, and letting the day slow to our rhythm.
The jetski becomes the main event. There is something about the rush of it: the roar of the engine, the way the lake rushes past like it’s alive. Riding solo is good, but riding with Rachel is something else entirely.
She sits behind me, arms wrapped tight around my waist. Her laughter cuts through the wind tickling the back of my neck. Every sharp turn earns a scream in my ear, but it’s not the scared kind. It’s breathless and contagious. By the time we circle back toward the dock, my face hurts from smiling. I’m already wishing for another excuse to take her out again.
I tie the Jetski off on the dock, and Rachel hops into the water.
Josh cannonballs off the dock as he is still a kid at heart. “Last one to the rope swing has to make dinner!”
