by Sarah Dessen
Instantly, she looked worried, biting her mouth shut.
“But not for another two weeks,” Tracy said quickly, handing the book back. She took a look around. “Wow, it’s great to finally see this place. It’s gorgeous, just like your dad said!”
“Well, we’re not going to be here,” I pointed out. “Lake North is different.”
“Not that much,” my dad said. To Tracy he explained, “It’s three miles down the road, with more new construction, bigger houses. But basically it’s all the same no matter where you are on the lake.”
It wasn’t, though, and he’d been the first one to tell me so, when we first pulled up to the sign with two opposite arrows. But I chose not to point this out. “It’s too bad we aren’t staying here,” Tracy said, looking at the Calvander’s office, with its rock garden and blinking VACANCY sign. “It’s charming.”
“You could,” I offered quickly. “There are rooms available.”
“But Nana made her own plans,” my dad said. “We’ll come visit, though, when it’s a more decent hour. Is Mimi up yet? I’d love to thank her in person.”
“She went to Delaney,” Gordon informed him. “Room ten needed new screens.”
“Well, we’ll definitely be back to visit,” my dad said, looking at Tracy. “But for now, we should probably—”
“Yes,” she agreed. “I’m sure your mother is wondering where we are.”
And just like that, it was time to go. My dad took my bag, opening the trunk, while Tracy shaded her eyes with her hand, again looking at the big trees along the water.
“Anna Gordon, it was very nice to meet you,” he said as the hatch closed with a click. “We’ll see you soon, I’m sure.”
I squatted down so I was at her level, then said, “You take care of everyone for me, okay? I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Promise?”
I nodded and she stepped forward, hugging my neck so tightly I almost lost my balance, her book bumping my back.
“Bye, Saylor,” Gordon said.
“Bye, Anna Gordon.”
Tracy waved and started over to the car. I smiled, lifting a hand myself as I followed. When I climbed inside, the car was cool and smelled of leather, the seat sinking beneath me.
“She called you Saylor,” my dad said as he started the engine and began pulling out of the drive. “Why is that?”
There was no traffic, but we stopped anyway, long enough for me to glimpse Mimi’s house one more time in the side mirror, where it already was starting to look far away.
“Because it’s my name,” I said, and I saw them exchange looks as we turned onto the road. The sign said Lake North was three miles. A passenger again, I settled in for the ride.
Seventeen
“Welcome to the Tides!”
The staff said this every time you walked through the main door, even if you’d only stepped out moments earlier. I’d been there less than twenty-four hours, and already I was sick of it.
Still, I nodded and smiled as I crossed the lobby, the copy of the Bly County News I’d just picked up under one arm. At the hotel restaurant, the Channel Marker, they offered a variety of newspapers at breakfast: New York Times, Washington Post, Wall Street Journal. For the local news—which was to say, obits—I had to walk across the street to the Larder, a glorified convenience store that sold gas and ice cream but also expensive wine and packages of cheese straws that cost six bucks each. I was a long way from BOGO sticky buns, not that I didn’t realize this already.
That first morning, as Dad and Tracy and I drove away from Mimi’s, I kept telling myself the same things, on repeat: it’s only three miles. Not that different. But even as I did, I was aware of the visible transition happening outside my window. After we passed Conroy Market, the squat concrete motels began disappearing, replaced by bigger neighborhoods. North Lake Estates, Fernwood Cove, the Sunset. And that was before we even pulled into the hotel itself.
“Welcome to the Tides,” the young, cute valet—he looked familiar, making me think I might have seen him at one of the Campus parties—said as he opened my door. Two others, also both in white golf shirts and black shorts, were already helping my dad and Tracy out and getting the luggage. “We’re glad to have you.”
“Um, thanks,” I mumbled, sliding out of my seat. He immediately shut the door behind me, then jogged back to help one of the other guys as they unloaded the hatch.
“Wow, this is nice,” my dad said, looking around. “How long has this place been here?”
“The Tides opened in two thousand sixteen,” another one of the valets, who had dark, shoulder-length hair, told him. “It’s the vision of the Delhomme family, owners of the Lake North Yacht Club. They saw a need for a place where members could stay that allowed the same level of service. That’s our goal.”
He said this so easily I assumed the answer was company-dictated. “Well,” Tracy said, “it’s lovely. Although I guess I shouldn’t have expected any less, since it is Grace who planned all this.”
That would be Nana, who was already up in our suite, having been brought straight from the airport late the night before. She didn’t drive either, but with her declining eyesight, she at least had a good excuse.
“Welcome to the Tides,” the woman behind the desk said as we approached. “Checking in?”
“Yes,” my dad said. “The last name is Payne. I believe my mother is already here.”
“I can’t wait to go for a swim,” Tracy said to me. “And eat something. Are you hungry?”
I was, although I hadn’t been aware of this until right at that moment. “Yeah, actually. I am.”
“The Channel Marker, our restaurant, is open for breakfast, lunch, and dinner,” the woman said, sliding some cards to my dad. “The hours are here on your keys. And room service is available twenty-four hours a day.”
“Room service it is,” my dad said, and Tracy grinned. He turned to face us. “Ready to go up?”
In the elevator, there was a screen showing a video, on repeat, of the highlights of the Tides. Here was the pool, blue and empty. The beach, with a clearly posed photo of a single child digging in the sand with a bucket. Even the lake, which I’d seen every day for weeks now, looked different in the sunset picture that appeared.
“Floor five,” the voice announced as the doors slid open. Like “Lake North,” it was all in the order you said it.
“Five fourteen,” my dad said, glancing at the key card in his hand. “So that’s—oh. Right here.”
It wasn’t hard to spot, as the door marked with these numbers was the only one on the short hallway where we were standing. On the other side of the elevators was 515. So we basically had half of an entire floor? Was that even possible?
My dad waved his card at the door, which clicked, and he pushed it open, standing back to hold it for Tracy and myself. “Hello?” Tracy called out as she stepped inside.
“In here,” I heard Nana say. At the sound of her voice, I smiled.
I loved my grandmother. With her, everything was always, effortlessly, Just So, from the thin teacup she drank her coffee from every morning—in a matching robe and slipper set, hair combed perfectly—to the simple, but perfect, bouquet of seasonal flowers that always stood on her dining room table. Everything outside Nana’s apartment might have felt fragile and already falling apart, but with her, there was always a sense that things were as they should be.
“Emma,” she said when she saw me, holding open her arms. After all the foot dragging of the morning, now I felt like I couldn’t move fast enough. “You are a sight for these sore eyes! How are you?”
“Good,” I said, giving her a tight squeeze before she gestured for me to sit in the chair next to hers. “How was the cruise?”
“Oh, it was wonderful,” she sighed. “The pyramids must be seen to be believed. Are you hungry? I have a few things here, but we can easily order more.”
This was an understatement: I saw a pot of coffee and a plate st
acked with pastries, as well as fresh fruit and berries, arranged beautifully in a bowl. There was toast, too, four pieces perfectly browned, balls of butter dotted with salt beside them.
“Have some,” Nana said, seeing me notice this. She picked up the plate, putting it closer to me. “You look hungry.”
“Thanks,” I replied, reaching for a piece and putting it on the plate in front of me.
“It looks delicious,” Tracy said after also greeting Nana. “This place is amazing.”
“It’s lovely, I agree,” Nana said, looking around the room. Like the lobby, the floor was white tile, the room open, with a small kitchen tucked away in a corner and a living area to the right of where we were sitting. The real centerpiece, though, were the sliding doors, open now to let in the breeze, that framed both a patio and a gorgeous, wide view of the lake. “So,” she said. “How are Mimi and the rest of the family?”
“Good,” I said. “It was nice to get to know everyone. I just wish I’d had longer there.”
“I told her she’s only a couple of miles away,” my dad said. “Easy to visit while we’re here.”
“And we’ll have to have them, as well,” Nana said, picking up a piece of toast and putting in on her plate. “Matthew, let’s plan on that. A thank-you dinner. I’ll talk to the desk about booking a table at the Club.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” I said quickly. While Bailey would lose her mind at the prospect, I could only imagine everyone else would be less than enthused.
“I think it’s the least we can do since they took such good care of you. Ask Mimi what night is good, will you? And how many will be coming. The more the merrier.”
My phone beeped, the sound distant in my purse, which was on the back of my chair. Nana, who hated screens at the table, gave it a pointed look, making it clear I should not check it. So I didn’t.
“I’ll talk to her,” I said instead. “But she’s really busy with the motel and everything.”
“All the more reason for a nice dinner out,” Nana replied as, outside, a large boat puttered across the water, pulling a float behind it. “Now, what’s the plan for today? Pool? Lake? A nap?”
“I vote pool,” Tracy said. “Although once I eat, I have a feeling a nap might win out.”
“They both sound good to me,” I said. “I’ll get settled and then decide.”
“Perfect. Your room is the one at the end of the hall, with the twin bed.”
I smiled, thanking her again, then grabbed my purse and headed that way. My room was small, but immaculate, everything white—walls, floor, sheets, and comforter. A fan turned slowly overhead. I walked around the bed, to the sheer white curtain, pulling it aside to reveal yet another sliding glass door with the patio beyond it. Another room with a view of the lake. If it was all the same, really, why did it feel so different?
It was a question I was still asking myself, these two days later, as the elevator opened again, depositing me in the empty hallway outside our room. My dad, Tracy, and Nana had easily moved into vacation mode and a schedule of late breakfast, pool, naps, and dinners at the hotel restaurant, but I was still getting adjusted. It didn’t help that out every window was the lake, and the other side: from this height, through the big hallway window, I could actually sort of make out Mimi’s house if I squinted. And I did, every morning.
I waved my key at the door, heard the click, and then pushed it open. Nana had not emerged from her room, and my dad and Tracy, swearing they needed to work off all the great Greek food they ate on their honeymoon, had gone out for a morning run. The quiet made my phone sound even louder as it signaled a new message.
Without even looking, I knew it was Bailey. Despite the fact that we hadn’t exactly left things on the best note, she’d texted me at least five times since I’d left Mimi’s. Our fight was still on my mind, but she had apparently gotten over it.
Promised I’d take Gordon tubing early afternoon. You in?
As coercion went, this was next-level. It was one thing to claim to want to hang out with me: another, entirely, to bring Gordon into it. As she intended, though, it gave me pause, especially after the conversation I’d had with Trinity the day before.
“You’ve got to come over here and see Gordon,” she’d announced in lieu of a hello. “She’s driving me nuts.”
“Trinity?” I asked.
“I mean, if she could go back to camp, it would be different,” she continued. “But instead she’s home and sulking around. I’m a sitting target because I am literally bed-bound. You need to do something.”
“Me?” I said. “I’m on the other side of the lake.”
“It’s three miles,” she pointed out. “Also, can you take me to birth class this afternoon? Everyone else is working.”
“I don’t know,” I said slowly. “I’m kind of stuck here with my family.”
“I am also your family,” she said. “Remember?”
I sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Which had turned out to be not much, as my dad was determined to use the time we had together to bond us as a new family. While Nana stayed in the A/C of the room, reading, he was busy organizing activities to the point that I was, honestly, kind of exhausted. We’d done mini golf, attended a Pavilion concert (beach music, surprise!), and taken part in a low-country boil the Tides staff arranged on the beach for all the guests. But today was what I’d been dreading.
“An easy morning on the water,” my dad had said the night before, presenting this idea as we sat on the wooden beach chairs, our plates of shrimp, potatoes, and sausage on our laps. “I reserved a day sailer and a picnic lunch from the kitchen. We’ll just tool around, then find a beach to pull up to for a bit to swim and eat.”
“Wait,” I said, “are we all doing this or just you guys?”
“All of us,” he replied, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I mean, we three. Not Nana. She’s never been a boat person.”
“Neither have I,” I pointed out.
“You said before you were out on boats all the time with your cousins these last few weeks,” he reminded me.
“Motorboats,” I corrected him. “And that was just transportation. Sailing is different.”
“Yes, because it’s great,” he replied. Tracy, beside him, smiled. “Emma, just be open-minded. You might actually really like it.”
I doubted this. But it did give me a good reason to tell Bailey no to her invitation, which I did now, explaining I already had plans for the water. She wrote back right away, probably because it was the first time I’d responded so far.
Later today, then?
I sighed. All these invitations and requests, but not one from the person I really wanted to see.
I missed Roo. Which was weird, I knew, because with his multiple jobs and my work at Calvander’s, it wasn’t like we’d spent that much time together even when we’d been on the same side. But when we were hanging out, there had just been that ease, a shorthand, not to mention that moment with my dress strap that might have led to something else. But didn’t, I reminded myself.
There was still Taylor’s birthday party, that evening. April had texted me the details, and I’d told Jack I’d be there. It was one thing to say this, however, and another to actually find my way there, to a house I’d never been to, and walk in alone. Knowing Roo would be there was an incentive, but the truth was, I’d feel better if I was with Bailey. So maybe I had my own selfish reasons for making up as well.
Maybe, I wrote back to her now. A single word, without weight in either direction. Immediately, she texted back a thumbs-up.
“Emma?” My dad was outside, his voice clear through the thin door. “Are you in there?”
“Yes,” I called out, sliding my newspaper under a pillow. “Coming.”
When I opened the door, he was standing there, in an ATHENS T-shirt and swim trunks. Sunscreen streaked his face. “Ready to sail?”
“No,” I replied.
“Great,” he s
aid easily, too happily distracted to notice this. “The boat is ready for us. Tracy went to grab the cooler from the Club. Walk down with me?”
Clearly, I wasn’t getting out of this. I took my stuff and followed him.
“Breakfast?” Nana asked as we passed by, gesturing to the expanse of room service plates that sat before her. “Sailing requires energy.”
“No time,” my dad said, plucking a muffin from a tray of pastries. “We’re headed out right now.”
I kissed her cheek as I passed her, taking a doughnut after she told me again to help myself. Once out in the hallway, as my dad pushed the button for the elevator, I wrapped it in a tissue, stuffing it deep in my bag.
“I think you’ll really like this,” he said as the doors slid open and we got in. “Going down,” the voice informed us. “It won’t be like those days at Topper Lake back at home, so choppy. Just an easy sail.”
“I can’t stay out long,” I told him. “Bailey wants me to do something with her later, and then there’s this party.”
“Party?” he asked. “When?”
“Tonight,” I said. “I told you, my friend Taylor. It’s her birthday.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “We’re supposed to eat with the Delhommes tonight.”
I’d forgotten. Nana’s friends, who owned the Tides, had invited us to dinner at the Club. “I don’t have to be there, though, right? It’ll be all you guys drinking wine and talking.”
“I think it’s the least we can do to thank them for this vacation,” he replied as we reached the lobby. “Plus, they’re expecting you.”
“Dad,” I said. Before, I hadn’t been that into going to Taylor’s party. Now that it seemed I might not be allowed to do so, it felt imperative. “I’m going sailing. You have to let me do something I like today. It’s my vacation, too.”
He looked at me. “Emma. You’ve already spent a month with your friends. I think you can miss one party.”
“But it’s her birthday!”
“Maybe,” he said, and having this same word as my answer felt like payback after all of Bailey’s pleadings that I’d ignored. “We’ll see. For now, let’s just have a good time, okay?”
