Page 35 of Chasing Smoke

Everyone tosses their cards on the table toward my uncle.

The windows creak from what I assume is a strong burst of wind coming off the lake.

“Wind’s picking up,” Jimmy says.

“Supposed to snow in the morning.” Uncle Roy shuffles the cards.

“I remember there was this wicked storm one year,” Clyde says. “Might have been in ’88… maybe ’89. Wasn’t winter, but we were having an unusual cold spell that summer. I remember because Barb⁠—”

“May she rest in peace,” all the old guys say in unison.

“She was going on and on about how she’d bought these new summer dresses that she hadn’t gotten to wear. Back then you had to drive all the way into⁠—”

“The storm, Clyde,” Jimmy says, trying to keep him on track.

“I’m getting there. The wind was howling. That one took the Wilsons’ dock clean across the lake and I personally watched a canoe go airborne⁠—”

“Kayak,” Sam clarifies.

Clyde waves him off. “Same difference. I watched it go airborne, fully airborne, until it landed about five hundred yards away.”

The rest of us share a look, knowing Clyde’s propensity to embellish a story.

“Helluva storm.” He shakes his head and looks gravely down at the table.

“I, for one, will be happy when winter is over,” Emelia says.

“Figured you’d be used to this kind of weather, coming from Alaska,” Uncle Roy says. He eats some chips from the bowl on the table, wiping the crumbs from the top of his mildly protruding belly and his worn-thin Pearl Jam T-shirt.

“You guys don’t know snow,” she says, and we all laugh. “I want to go out on the boat with Baylor. Elliott tells me she’s a little speed demon.”

I glance at my brother, and he might as well be one of those cartoon characters with two hearts springing out of his eyes. An uncomfortable feeling stirs in my belly that I can’t describe. Not jealousy—I’m happy for my brother—but I wouldn’t mind having what he has with Emelia.

Wait, did I actually think that? I really am fucked in the head.

Collins grows quiet about halfway through the night. It’s not as if she were a chatterbox when we first arrived, but I see her retreating into herself, and I have no idea why.

When we’re leaving, I can’t help but wonder if inviting her here tonight was the right call because she’s definitely in her head about something.

We say our goodbyes, and Emelia tells Collins she’s going to reach out to her soon about a girls’ night. Collins smiles and acts excited, but I’ve learned to tell when she’s putting up a front.

I drop off Hollis first, and ten minutes later, I’m pulling into Collins’s driveway. I get what she’s saying about Caleb’s truck. It’s like a cold bucket of water seeing it and knowing what I felt for her only hours earlier. I’m a shitty best friend.

I leave the engine running because it’s cold as fuck out, and I shift in my seat to face her. “Is everything okay? You got pretty quiet the longer the night went on.”

She turns, her sad eyes meeting mine. “Did I come off as rude?”

I shake my head. “No, not at all. Everyone else probably thought you were quiet. I just know better. What’s going on?”

She deeply sighs and stares at her fingers in her lap. “Watching your family interact tonight…”

“Were we too much? The ribbing can get a bit much at times, I know, but it’s all in good fun.”

She huffs out a quiet laugh. “Not at all. I just haven’t been a part of that kind of dynamic in a while. And even then, I married into it. My parents were never big on affection. All of it just reminded me how lonely I am… was too.”

My forehead wrinkles. “Was?”

She shakes her head and turns to look out the passenger window. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”