This Summer. Katlyn Duncan
we were before you left. Professionally, I mean.”
My mind flashes to the night I left, the better part of that night where our friendship had transformed into something more. But she wasn’t talking about that.
My fingers twitch to touch her, reassure her somehow, but instead I keep them firmly planted on the wheel. “Yeah. I can do that.”
She exhales deeply. “Great.”
The air between us has shifted and my shoulders relax, letting go of the nightmarish parts of my past. Lily’s warning is fresh in my mind but Hadley seems to have grown up a lot. This summer is going to be easier than I thought.
***
Rock music blares from my phone. I roll over onto my side and fumble over the smooth surface of the side table. I click the button and the alarm ceases. Falling back onto the bed, I rub a hand over my face, my cheeks still raw from shaving last night in the coldest shower I’d ever experienced. The rest of the night was spent making a list of all the parts and projects I needed to do over the next couple of weeks before any chance of an open house. Or at least a successful one. And we needed as much for the house as possible.
I grab my phone and dial Mabel.
She picks up on the second ring. “Good mornin’, sweetheart!” Of course she’s wide awake.
“Mornin’.”
“Six in the mornin’ you’re callin’ me. You slept in,” she jokes.
“That’s what driving three days does to you.”
“Well, you needed it. I was worried sick that you’d drive off the road. Next time take someone with you and I’ll pay for their flight home.”
“Okay.” I slide off the bed. My feet touch the cool floor. She can barely afford to keep the place afloat, I wouldn’t let her buy anyone’s ticket let alone take anyone with me. When I was out of here, I was out for good.
“How was yesterday?” she asks.
I imagine her moving around the kitchen as I go through the activities from the day before, specifically not mentioning Hadley.
But of course she’s one step ahead of me. “That’s all well and good sunshine, but tell me about Hadley.”
A choked sound escapes my mouth.
She clucks. “I may be old, but I’m not daft. Don’t think I fell for your hemmin’ and hawin’ over leaving. You couldn’t stay away from your home forever.”
“This isn’t my home—”
“Oh hush now,” she interrupts. “You need this, sweetheart. You need it more than you know. Take this time to get everythin’ out of your system. If you want to say goodbye that is up to you. But if you end up wanting to stay, you know what you should do.”
“I don’t want to be here,” I say weakly, betraying how I truly feel. “And I don’t want to see him. Ever.”
She sighs deeply and I can see her shaking her head.
“And you better not tell him I’m here,” I add.
“Will Carson, are you telling me what to do?”
Two names. She’s not happy. “No ma’am.”
I hear the smile in her voice. “That’s what I thought.” She exhales again. “It’s only your first day. Can you just do me a favor?”
“What’s that?”
“You have two months to make the most of this second chance. I know you regret everything that happened with your father but this is your opportunity to live the rest of your life without regret. Summers are magical in that way. Don’t take it for granted.”
I peer over my shoulder. Is Hadley up? She was always an early riser. Something I quickly had to get accustomed to working on the ranch.
“You there?”
I turn away from the window. “Yes.”
“I know I’m an old woman, but I do know what I’m talking about.”
“Love you,” I say.
“You too, darlin’.”
I toss the phone onto the bed as I walk to the window. Pushing the curtain aside, I peer up at the still-dark sky. I can’t see the stars clearly here, the streetlights cast a glow blocking their light. I open the window and a light breeze moves over my arms. The screen is missing, another thing to add to the list, so I stick my head out the window and close my eyes, inhaling. The air is different here, something out of a deep memory.
A dull whooshing sound makes me open my eyes. Hadley stands behind the screen and her eyes widen. Her gaze moves down over my bare chest then back up.
“Good mornin’,” I say.
She blinks. “Mornin’.”
“I can’t help it,” I say, laughing.
“It’s cute,” she says and shakes her head as if scolding herself.
“I was going for ruggedly handsome but I guess cute will do.”
She’s already dressed in the counselor uniform, dark green shirt with khaki shorts. Her legs always looked good, but in those shorts they are exquisite.
“I didn’t expect you up this early.”
My hands grip the window sill and I lean onto them. “An unfortunate residual of ranch living.”
“How are they doing? Does she have someone else to help her while your dad recovers?”
I push away from the window. “Yeah,” I say a little too quickly. “I should give them a call.”
If she didn’t believe me, she didn’t give it away. Her hands move up to the window but for some reason I don’t want her to leave just yet. Her eyes sparkle with anticipation.
“I’m going to walk to camp. Do you and Ethan want to join?” I’ve had enough of the truck for a few days.
She winces. “I told Lily I’d drive in with her. She’s not that outdoorsy.”
“I remember.”
She grins sheepishly. “I’m sure Ethan would be cool with it.”
“I’m going to head out in about an hour, if he wants to come along just let him know.”
“I will.”
Both of us hesitate for a moment, but I make the first move. I close the window, but leave the curtains open. If anything it will be another excuse to see Hadley after camp. Mabel’s words course through my head. Even though I already made the decision to leave when the house sells, could Hadley and me continue where we left off? Knowing that we’d both leave at the end of the summer?
I cross the room to the closet and grab the camp shirt I still had from years previous. She’d never go for that. And I wouldn’t risk hurting her.
As I enter the hallway, my eyes fall on his bedroom door. My toes dig into the carpet as flames lick inside of my stomach. Instead, I go for the bathroom, wrench open the faucet. Air rockets out of the shower head, breaking up the water flow in quick spurts, but eventually the stream is consistent. It’s warmer than last night since I adjusted the water heater temperature. A chill wraps around my spine as I step under the warm water, but at least it distracts me, even momentarily.
I press my hands against the cool tile and let the thick air envelop me. My thoughts wander. Why did she have to bring him up? Other than nightmares, I rarely allowed myself to think of that night, but in this house, even just for a day it prodded me every goddamn second. I inhale sharply and allow myself to hate him all over again, it makes dealing with it easier.
My hands turn to fists and I pound the tile, remembering