Lolly looked out at the lake, a long sigh her answer.
It was summer, and the resorters were returning. Although it had been nearly a decade since her mother had died, the first weeks of summer always stung like an angry ground hornet. Lolly knew her mother would never be coming back.
Even Jo was gone. She was staying in the city, living in her sorority house and working.
“Who are you taking out today?” Lolly asked, breaking the silence.
“A group of guys from Chicago,” Vern said, snapping off a bite of crispy bacon. “They want to fish Lost Land for musky, and then the big lake for salmon. Full day. Good money.”
Vern stood. “Mind filling me a thermos of coffee?”
“Sandwiches?”
Vern nodded. “I’ll go gather up my stuff.”
An unspoken routine between the two had developed over the years. Lolly met her father on the screened porch, thermos and cooler filled, picked up a tackle box in her free hand, and accompanied her father to his johnboat at the end of their dock.
The morning was crisp but would warm quickly, as they did in Michigan, the chill giving way to humidity-free warmth and skies as blue as the indigo buntings that dove over the lake in search of mosquitoes.
Whooo-dooo-ooooh-ooooh!
“New couple, I do think,” Vern said, nodding back at the cabin, where two loons nestled in the inlet by the screened porch. “I think Lucy and Ricky might have passed on this winter. I think we may have some new lovers.”
“Loud ones,” Lolly said, handing her dad the thermos and cooler. “Woke me up again this morning.”
“You got names for them?”
Lolly jumped at the sound of a strange voice.
She turned to find a mop-headed kid, with eyes as green as the lake reeds swaying in the breeze behind him.
“Oh, Les! Right on time!”
“Thanks for letting me help you out this summer, sir.”
Lolly’s head pivoted between her father and the young man, her eyes wide, waiting for an explanation.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Lol. Didn’t I tell you about Les?”
“Umm, no.”
Les laughed, his face breaking into a huge smile, before quickly covering his mouth with his hand. “Sorry.”
“Les, Lolly. Lolly, Les.”
The two shook hands tentatively. “Les is on summer break from Michigan State. He’s majoring in … what was that again?”
“Forestry.”
“You study forests?” Lolly asked.
“Fish and wildlife, actually. I’m in the College of Natural Resources and Agriculture.”
“So then my dad is sort of your ‘outdoor’ professor this summer?” Lolly asked.
“That’s right. I’ll be helping him with his fishing excursions this summer, which will give me a chance to study our state’s northern lakes, especially the musky and salmon population.”
“His parents have a summer cottage here,” Vern explained. “His dad contacted me about this.”
“Can you change a hook? Cast? Clean a fish?” Lolly asked in quick succession, a bit jealous that a college boy was about to take over some of her usual summer duties with her father.
Vern doubled over at the sudden barrage of questions from his daughter, booming laughter echoing off the lake and causing a group of herons nearby to take flight.
“My daughter has a point,” he said, looking Les—and his crisp khaki pants, ironed polo shirt, and deck shoes—over closely. “Lolly, you should do all the interviewing from now on. So, can you do any of that, Les? It’s kind of important, since most of the city folk can’t.”
“Ummm…” Les hesitated, looking between Lolly and Vern.
Vern leaned into the boat and nabbed a pole and his tackle box. “Here ya go. Tie on a lure and cast into the lake for me.”
Les pursed his lips as if he were going to whistle, or maybe cry, and then exhaled a puff of wind heavenward, blowing his flaxen bangs out of his eyes. He did this over and over, as he fussed with the lure. He tried tying the lure for five minutes, his eyes crossed in concentration, until Lolly couldn’t take it anymore.
“Here!” she said. “Let me show you!”
Les’s face reddened, as Lolly continued. “It’s okay that a girl’s showing you. Don’t be embarrassed. It’s easy: This is a figure eight tie. See, you twist and twist, until an eight forms, then loop the end through the bottom of the eight and then the top of the eight and pull tight, like this. There!”
Les looked at Lolly as if she were a magician. He yanked and yanked on the lure, but it stayed in place, as if it had been cemented onto the line.
“Do it again,” he said, incredulous. “Please.”
Lolly showed him again, and when she was done, cast a perfect toss alongside the edge of the reeds, hooking a smallmouth bass in under a minute.
“You’ll get the hang of it,” Lolly said, pulling the fish off and tossing it back into the water, where it immediately dove to the bottom of the clear lake. “It’s like having a dad who’s a butcher. You learn how to grill a steak, right?”
Les nodded, and again blew his bangs toward the sky.
Lolly finally studied the boy. Yes, he was gangly. Yes, he was a bit green. Yes, he was a college boy.
But there was no denying, he was very cute.
Suddenly, Lolly’s face flushed, as if everything she just thought had been said aloud, for the entire world to hear.
“Now, you try casting,” Vern said.
Les picked up the pole, moved to the edge of the dock, hitched up the rod, and flicked his arm like a robot. The lure sailed the wrong way, screaming backward, where it hooked Lolly directly in the charm bracelet.
“Lolly! Are you okay?” her father yelled, rushing toward his daughter.
“Oh, my gosh! No! I’m so sorry!” Les yelled, following suit.
“Mom was watching over me,” Lolly laughed, holding up her bracelet and beginning the process of untangling the lure from amongst the knot of charms it had hooked. “As for you,” she continued, staring at Les, “I think the only thing you might catch is a cold … or a lawsuit from one of the guests.”
Les gave a wobbly smile, his humiliation giving way to the comforting fact that at least his boss’s daughter had not been injured.
“What are all those?” Les asked, moving forward to help Lolly untangle the mess he’d created.
“Charms,” she said. “Most from my mom, who died. All of them have a story.”
“I think I just added a new one to your bracelet,” Les said, blushing.
“A charm or a story?” Lolly asked, cocking her head. “I’m guessing story, since that lure is too dangerous to add to my bracelet.”
“My mom and grandma have charm bracelets,” Les said, finally fishing the lure free from her bracelet. “They are just so … beautiful, aren’t they? They have so much history. Your mother was protecting you.”
Lolly stared in shock at Les. She had never heard someone so young, much less a boy, say something so profound about her bracelet.
“Does your girlfriend have a charm bracelet, too?” Lolly managed to ask, her mouth suddenly feeling as if it were filled with cotton.
Les smiled. “I haven’t hooked one yet.”
“We gotta get going, Les,” Vern said from the dock. “You just observe today, got it?”
Les ducked his head and nodded, his hair flopping.
“I love you, Lolly,” Vern called. “See you tonight.”
“Okay, Dad. Catch a lot of fish to fry for dinner!”
Vern got into the back of the boat and lowered the engine into the water.
“So? You never answered me,” Les said to Lolly, before he turned to leave.
“About what?” Lolly asked.
“What are the names of your loons?”
“Oh! Well, they’re new here,” Lolly said. “And they’re loud. They sort of squabble, but in a nice way. The old loons were named Lucy and Ricky. Got any ideas?”
“What about Fred and Ethel?” Les said. “They squawk at each other, but you know they couldn’t live without the other one.”
Lolly’s face beamed. I Love Lucy was the one TV show that could always make her laugh.
“That’s perfect,” she said.
“You know what I learned about loons in college?” Les asked.
Lolly shook her head.
“They mate for life,” he said. “And they always return home, to the same lake, every summer.”
Vern revved the engine on the boat, and Les left Lolly standing dumbfounded on the dock. Les climbed into the boat unsteadily and took a seat with a big thud. As the boat left the dock and zipped across Lost Land Lake, Lolly waved goodbye, her bracelet jangling, as Fred and Ethel, alarmed by the commotion, ran across the top of the lake after each other, their legs churning, until they took flight into the morning sky, craning their necks to look at one another. Lolly strained her eyes to watch them fly; she could swear they were smiling.
And just like Fred and Ethel, Les returned to Lost Land every summer for Lolly and, eventually, he never left home, either.
Twenty-two
“You can’t leave me hanging like that, Grandma,” Lauren said, her eyes wide. “When did he finally ask you out? How long did you date? When did he propose?”
Lolly laughed and took a big gulp of her second beer as another Sinatra song ended.
“Your grandfather, Les, asked me out the next summer, and we went steady long distance until he finished college. The summer after he graduated, he secured a job with the state parks department and helped my father on weekends, before taking over his guide business,” Lolly said. “He proposed to me that summer at the end of the dock on my birthday in the midst of the Fourth of July fireworks. It was so romantic and so thoughtful. He told me he had asked my dad—and my mom—for their permission. Les gave me the most beautiful engagement ring, and then he pulled out another box.”
“What was in it?” Lauren asked, on the edge of her seat.
“The charm of the loon,” she said, holding up her bracelet and finding the silver bird instantly. “I was so happy and honored that any man would value my past so beautifully. I asked him what the charm meant, and he said, ‘This is to a forever love that always calls you home.’”
Lauren was now weeping uncontrollably, sloshing beer out of the mug she was holding. “That’s the most beautiful love story I’ve ever heard, Grandma.”
“Here, my dear,” Lolly said, handing her another napkin. “You could use this.”
“I’m so sorry, Grandma,” Lauren said, putting her beer down and blowing her nose. “People are staring.”
“That’s my granddaughter!” Lolly laughed. “Causing a scene, just like me.”
“I’m sorry I never got to meet him. I’m sorry he died so young.”
Lolly reached out for her granddaughter’s hand and took it in her lap.
“He would have loved you! He was such a good man. He was such a great husband and father. He would have made a wonderful grandfather, too.”
Lolly squeezed her granddaughter’s hand. “But I want you to know something: Although I miss him desperately, I don’t regret a day of my life. One year, thirty years, fifty years: I found the love of my life, and that is the greatest blessing. You do know, my dear, that all my tragedy has affected your mom in so many bad ways: My mother dying so young, my husband’s premature death, and never having enough money. That’s why she’s so strict with you. That’s why she feels she has to control life, so it won’t come unhinged on her. The only things we can control are our happiness, our destiny, our impact on others. Rest is up to God.”
Lauren sniffled and nodded.
“Are you crying because you don’t have someone to love like that?” Lolly asked. “Have you ever been in love?”
Lauren looked toward her mother. “No, I haven’t been in love. I think I may be a bit like my mom … wanting to control life too much.”
“Well, don’t,” Lolly admonished. “You’ll find someone special, and when you do fall in love, let me help you plan your wedding! I had a charm pull at mine…”
“What’s that, Grandma?”
“Cake pulls are an old tradition. My mom and grandma both had them. My wedding cake had a satin ribbon for each of my bridesmaids,” Lolly said excitedly. “Before Les and I cut the first slice, my bridesmaids each pulled a charm that was popping out from the bottom two layers of the cake. It was her keepsake for the day. I picked each one especially for every girl—ones for good luck, fortune, or romance—and prayed they would pick the right ones. And they all did! Jo picked the charm of little silver bells, meaning she would be the next to marry, and she did—the very next year!”
“I’d love for you to help me when I’m ready,” Lauren said. “I’ve been too focused on school to be open to love, but maybe that will change.”
“It would be my honor,” Lolly said, before looking over at her daughter and Jake. “And I’d be over the moon to see your mom fall in love again, too.”
Twenty-three
“My mother must be in heaven right now,” Arden said to Jake, nervously sipping her beer, as the lyrics to “The Way You Look Tonight” played in the background.
“She loves Ol’ Blue Eyes?” Jake asked.
“You haven’t heard the story?” Arden asked incredulously. “You must be the only one. See that picture by the bar? That’s my mom with Frank in the Rendezvous.”
“Wow!” Jake said. “She’s something else.”
That’s an understatement, Arden thought, surveying the table of Jake’s friends, all of whom were very polite, well-spoken, and nice. Almost too nice. It had been ages since Arden had sat at a table where it didn’t involve work or where someone didn’t have an agenda.
“Would you care to dance?”
Jake’s words interrupted Arden’s thoughts, and when she turned to look at him, the restaurant behind him whirled.
“Oh, me? No! No! I can’t dance!” Arden stuttered.
“Can’t or won’t?” Jake asked directly. “Those are two very different things. Everyone can dance. Most people won’t.”
Before she could say a thing, Jake was already on his feet, hand extended, leading Arden to a tiny square of warped parquet flooring just to the side of the jazz band.
Arden’s body was stiff as Jake took her into his big arms.
“It’s okay,” he whispered in a husky voice. “Loosen up. Just follow my lead.”
Arden felt dizzy and unsteady on her feet, but Jake was strong, more muscular than Arden had imagined. She held on tighter, one arm around his neck, the other around his back. He was solid, like a tree, and smelled of outdoors, a mix of fresh air and—what was that?—Fahrenheit cologne. A tuft of lustrous black hair spilled forth from the top of his plaid button-down.
“I gotcha, I gotcha,” Jake whispered above the music.
Still, Arden couldn’t help but hear the Sinatra line about “breathless charm.”
Must everything in my life have to involve the word “charm”? Arden thought, stealing a look toward her mother, who blew her a big kiss.
“I did a little research on you,” Jake said, swaying to Sinatra. “I’m impressed by all that you’ve accomplished. Paparazzi magazine … that’s huge.”
“Thank you,” Arden said softly.
“Do you write those articles?”
Arden hesitated. “Sort of.”
“Do you write books?”
“I … well … I did.”
“Did?”
“I stopped.”
“Why?”
The room again spun, this time as Arden was suddenly reminded of her failed marriage and stalled writing career.
“Life,” she finally said, looking into Jake’s stormy eyes.
Jake seemed to sense the sadness in Arden’s voice, and he tightened his grip around her waist.
Again, the room spun as Jake began to twirl Arden. She laughed suddenly, a small yelp falli
ng from her mouth as she twirled.
Jake slowed as the song ended and another began.
“How about you?” Arden asked. “Why are you here? In Scoops?”
Jake flashed Arden a smile that was seemingly filled with as many secrets and as much depth as the waters of Lost Land Lake.
“Well, the Reader’s Digest version of my life is that I grew up in Green Bay, and my parents were both factory workers. I saw the toll that took on their health, so I always wanted to be a doctor. I was the first to graduate college, but I could never afford med school, so I became a geriatric nurse. It’s a calling to me. I moved here from Chicago because I came here on my honeymoon with my ex-wife…”
“Ex-wife?” Arden asked, stopping in the middle of the floor, her jaw dropping like an anchor.
“Yes,” Jake said with a rolling laugh, like thunder across the lake. “Ex! I knew it was over before it began, really. I grew up with her. She was my high school sweetheart. But she never liked what I did. She always wanted to live in Chicago, or New York. She wanted bigger, I wanted smaller. She never left the cabin when I brought her here on our honeymoon.”
“That’s a bad thing?” Arden laughed.
“Not usually on a honeymoon, but, for us, it was. We had nothing in common but our past. I’ve learned as a geriatric nurse that if you only focus on your past, you’re doomed. You have to honor your past but be focused on the future. You have to believe that there are always happier days to come.”
The words struck Arden in the heart, and she shut her eyes as Jake moved her across the small floor.
“I’m an ‘ex,’ too,” Arden whispered into his ear.
“Can’t spell ‘next’ without it,” he whispered back, holding her closely, until the music stopped. “Band’s taking a break.”
“Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry,” Arden said, breaking free from his embrace. “I didn’t realize.”
“Seems like you enjoyed dancing,” Jake chuckled.
“Actually,” Arden said. “I did.”
Jake led Arden back to Lolly and Lauren’s table. “Thanks for letting me steal her. It was a lovely evening. I hope we can do it again soon.”
The Charm Bracelet Page 14
