Summer at Willow Lake

by Susan Wiggs

  “No, thank you,” she said softly, and studied the brief report.

  Everyone was so quiet and still that Olivia could hear the ice melting and shifting in the now-forgotten glasses. Finally, Jenny cleared her throat and regarded Philip and then Olivia with cautious curiosity. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “None of us does,” Olivia said. “I’m glad we found you and that you were willing to hear us out. I hope after the shock of this wears off, you’ll be glad, too.”

  “You don’t have to say anything or feel a certain way,” Philip said.

  “Good, because I have no idea what I’m feeling.”

  She was feeling something, though. Olivia could see that. Her eyes, those soft honest eyes Olivia had liked immediately, now sparkled with unshed tears.

  “Well, I’m happy to meet you,” Olivia whispered. “I always wanted a sister.” Feeling a bit overwhelmed, she found herself studying Jenny’s face again. Were their noses similar? Did they look anything alike? Olivia couldn’t tell. “I hope we’ll have plenty of time to, uh, catch up,” she added. “That is, if you want to.”

  “Um, sure.” Jenny blinked as though waking from a dream. “I never thought I’d meet you,” she said to Philip. “I never thought I’d learn who you were.”

  Philip touched her hand. “I’m so sorry.”

  Olivia’s heart sank. She could scarcely imagine what Jenny must be going through, or what an incredible cruelty it must feel like, growing up abandoned by her mother, having never known her father.

  Jenny looked down at their hands. “After a lifetime of being in the dark about this, I appreciate the honesty. I always wondered who you were,” she said. “What you were like, if I’d ever meet you.”

  “I hope I don’t disappoint you.”

  Finally, one single tear escaped, slipping down Jenny’s cheek. She wiped it away with the back of her hand. Olivia couldn’t tell if Jenny was elated or sad or simply overwhelmed. Olivia herself was a wreck. She was thrilled to have discovered her half sister, but at the same time, she felt unexpectedly defensive. Sure, she wanted her father to get to know Jenny, but…Olivia, you petty wretch, she told herself. Don’t you dare start with the sibling rivalry.

  “This is going to take some time,” she said to Jenny. “I hope you’re willing to spend some time with…Dad and me.”

  “I suppose so, yes.”

  “Are you free for dinner tonight?” Dad asked.

  Jenny looked taken aback. Then she nodded. “It will have to be after nine. My grandmother goes to bed early.”

  “Works for me,” he said. “Olivia?”

  Share and share alike, Olivia thought. She put on a bright smile and said, “The two of you should go. Maybe I’ll join you another time.”

  “Olivia—”

  “It’s fine, Dad. Really. In fact, I know a really great place. The Apple Tree Inn, out on Route 47.” She turned to Jenny, smiling brightly. “Have you been there?”

  “Only once,” Jenny confessed. “It’s sort of a…special-occasion place for us locals.”

  “Well, if this isn’t a special occasion,” Dad said, “I don’t know what is.”

  Twenty-Nine

  There were few things, Olivia reflected, that were quite so relaxing as paddling a kayak on a placid lake, especially in the midst of a heat wave. She went out at sundown, dipping her paddle beneath the glassy surface of the motionless water, watching it stir outward. It was hard to believe that soon she would be leaving this place. Summer had sped by so swiftly, each day busy and rich and filled with purpose. Finally, as an adult, Olivia understood why her grandparents loved Camp Kioga so much.

  With a troubling sense of surprise, she realized she would miss this place, the placid water and fresh green smells, the sound of the wind in the trees and birdsong every morning. But the crush and hurry of the city awaited. Clients were calling. Each time she checked her messages or e-mail, there they were, asking when she’d be back, needing her to help them out with their property, their plans, their lives. Needing Transformations. That was Olivia—the fluffer. She could sweep through someone’s house and within minutes, make it nicer, brighter, more appealing.

  It wasn’t such a tricky thing to do for other people. As for herself….

  Among today’s messages, there was even one from Rand. He called to say he was thinking about her, which was probably code for saying he needed to get laid. Rand Whitney. God, had he really been the repository of all her hopes and dreams just a few months before? It seemed like a lifetime ago. She’d been so naive. Her mother’s daughter, really. Believing that if your life looked perfect—the husband, the home, the friends, the kids—then surely it must be perfect. And of course, Olivia had built her entire career on that principle. She ought to know better. She ought to know that you could take anything from a crappy downtown walk-up to a run-down rustic summer camp and make it look like the sort of place people would want to be. But dig a little beneath the surface, and the lie was exposed.

  The sunset paddle wasn’t as relaxing as she’d hoped. She was consumed by thoughts of Jenny Majesky. A few months ago, she didn’t even know Jenny existed. Now, suddenly, she had a sister. All it took was one small act, like a stone dropped into still water, to see its significance radiating outward in all directions. Lives were affected, futures, plans by a decision made that long-ago summer. It was impossible to see where the ripples would end.

  Though all of this had started before Olivia was born, she still had a role to play—daughter, supporter, friend. Sister.

  I have a sister. The knowledge sang inside her, a mingling of elation and fear and trepidation.

  She paddled along the edge of the lake, where willows and maples reached down to dip their branches in the water, and families of wood duck glided amid the cattails. From the perspective of the water, Kioga looked exactly the way it should at twilight, with a few lights glowing in the windows of the main lodge and outbuildings, and a cookfire flickering in the river-rock barbecue pit on the shore. Uncle Greg was fixing hamburgers and hot dogs tonight because those were Max’s favorites. The little boy had discovered that one of the very few perks of divorce was that people tried to indulge the kids. Olivia hoped they wouldn’t fall into a pattern of overindulging, something her own family had done. It was hard, watching her cousins struggle through the same issues she had faced as a child, and bittersweet, watching her uncle become a better dad and a better person—at the cost of his marriage.

  Darkness fell, but she didn’t turn on her flashlight. The moon would be up soon, and there was just enough light to find the dock at Spruce Island. Which was, after all, where she was headed all along. Connor was still working out here, and she wanted to find him alone.

  Yes, she was looking for Connor. Maybe, as Freddy sometimes told her, she really was a glutton for punishment. Here she was, freaked out about Jenny, but also still so frustrated—no, furious—with Connor she couldn’t see straight, yet she needed to see him.

  If she closed her eyes, she could still feel his kisses and the fiery burn of wanting him, the way she had the night she’d all but thrown herself at him. He’d put a stop to that swiftly enough, but like a fool, she’d given him another chance at the winter lodge, flirting shamelessly—to no avail. Nothing, she thought—but nothing—feels quite like sexual rejection.

  And really, what better place to have it out with him than here, on this tiny private island in the middle of the lake?

  She tied up and got out at the small, floating dock.

  “Hello,” she called out.

  “Over here.”

  Her heart tripped, then sped up as she followed the sound of his voice.

  “Hey,” she said, her tone carefully neutral.

  “Hey.” He was working by the light of a lantern. He unfastened a wood clamp, stepped back to regard his work. “I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

  “You didn’t show up for dinner. I came out to make sure everything is all right.”

  �
�You paddled all the way out here just for that?”

  “Sure.”

  “Liar.” He used a bandanna to wipe his hands. “What are you doing here, Lolly?”

  She couldn’t bring herself to reply. Besides, she was pretty sure he knew, anyway. He seemed to call her Lolly—not Olivia—when he saw right through her. It occurred to her to tell him how the meeting with Jenny Majesky had gone, but she wasn’t ready to talk about that, not yet. She’d come here—in part, at least—to avoid that situation. She didn’t want to think about her father and Jenny at the Apple Tree Inn.

  Connor didn’t press for an answer, but busied himself stowing away the clamps and tools. Then he flipped a switch, and strings of fairy lights glimmered in the rafters of the restored gazebo.

  Olivia turned slowly in a circle, and for a moment, she forgot her worry and frustration. She forgot everything except the fact that this man had been working long hours to re-create this place for her grandparents. The thought melted every bit of her annoyance at Connor. “It’s exactly the way I wanted it to turn out.”

  “Glad you like it.” He looked sexy in this light. In any light, she admitted.

  “I’m lucky I found you,” she said, then grew flustered. “I mean, as a contractor. But then I was worried that it wouldn’t work out, that we wouldn’t work well together, you know, because…you know.” Oh, she was babbling. They both knew it.

  He seemed unruffled as he opened two cans of beer without asking whether or not she wanted one. “Cheers,” he said.

  Olivia wasn’t much of a beer drinker, but sometimes, like right now, on the hottest night of the year, it was just the thing. The cold, crisp effervescence soothed her throat.

  Connor turned off the strings of lights and picked up a lantern. “Let’s sit over here,” he said, lighting the way down to the water’s edge. “I’d make you a fire, but it’s too hot as it is.”

  She tilted her head back and touched the cold beer can to her throat, closed her eyes and let out a sigh. “It’s still so hot out, I almost can’t see straight,” she said.

  “There’s a remedy for that.”

  “Hmm. Skinny-dipping.” She kicked off her flip-flops and sat down, bracing one arm behind her.

  “Of course. One of Kioga’s most secret traditions.”

  “Except everyone knew about it.” She cringed, shying away from unwanted memories. Her thoughts careened and ricocheted. Was she going to let him do this? Was she prepared? Was he?

  “Let me tell you about my day,” she said. It was only fair to let him know about the invisible baggage she was dragging around. “I went with my father to introduce him to Jenny. It was horrible and awkward and sad, and tonight he’s taking her to the Apple Tree Inn so they can get acquainted. And it’s all my fault for opening the whole can of worms but how could I not?”

  “Hey. None of this is your fault. Not one damn bit.”

  Olivia had a terrible urge to lean against him, as though seeking shelter. Every breath she took seemed to deepen her emotional pain. “It was so hard,” she said. “Don’t get me wrong, Jenny was terrific. But also…careful. She didn’t embrace us as her long-lost family. She didn’t push us away, either. The whole time, I couldn’t stop thinking about everything we missed out on, all the things we never had. All my life I’ve had a sister. A big sister. And I never knew. I keep wondering about how different my life would have been if we’d known each other, growing up.”

  He slipped his arm around her, and the simple human warmth of the contact brought her to the brink of tears. He didn’t say anything, she supposed, because there was nothing to say. Finally, he asked a question. “What can I do?”

  She swallowed a couple of times, hardly trusting herself to speak. “Maybe I need mind-blowing sex and a shoulder to cry on.”

  He tightened his hold on her, and she could hear a rumble of humor in his chest. “I guess you came to the right place.”

  The thing was, Olivia didn’t know if she should take what he was offering. She had a perfectly good best friend—Freddy—and a cousin she adored—Dare—who could be the shoulder. The mind-blowing sex, well, that would take a specialist.

  She and Connor had tried sex before. It had been a disaster. Just how big a disaster, she was still discovering. She’d thought it was a simple teenage-humiliation-and-rejection scenario, but she’d never left it behind, not really. Instead, she had let that moment define her and govern choices she made years later.

  “So what do you say, Lolly?” he whispered, his lips very close to hers, not kissing her but leaning close enough so that she felt as though he was.

  God, she was falling for him. All over again, though she should have learned her lesson a long time ago. She wanted him so much, though, that even knowing this could be a mistake couldn’t dissuade her.

  Maybe, as bona fide adults, they’d do better this time around. God knew, they couldn’t do much worse.

  CAMP KIOGA SONGBOOK

  Taps (Day Is Done)

  Day is done, gone the sun,

  From the lake, from the hills, from the sky;

  All is well, safely rest, God is nigh.

  Thirty

  Summer 1997

  Happy but exhausted campers swarmed the main yard on pickup day. Some took the camp bus down the mountain to the train station. Others were collected by gleeful parents in station wagons and SUVs. After ten weeks away, even the most obnoxious child was generally missed. A final sweep of the bunkhouses had been made and the kids milled around, toting their gear, sporting suntans and bug bites and—as Lolly’s grandparents said in their farewell talk at breakfast—memories to last a lifetime.

  Lolly spotted Connor talking with Julian. The little boy was hopping from one foot to the other, still the most energetic kid at camp. Her heart jumped as it always did when she saw Connor, or even thought about him. Against all expectations, something amazing had happened this summer. He had become her boyfriend, her very first, and she was so dizzy in love with him that she had all but lost the ability to eat or sleep or think. She walked over to him and handed Julian the Fledgling sign to hold. “Make sure you keep it up in the air so everyone can see it. That’ll help parents find their kids.”

  “My dad’s coming. He’s coming all the way from Italy to get me.”

  “That’s what I hear, kiddo. I think that’s totally cool,” Lolly said.

  Marching around in self-importance, Julian waved his sign and scanned the incoming cars and vans.

  “Good move,” Connor said to her. “Giving him a job to do will keep him busy for a whole minute, maybe.”

  “I can’t believe he made it through the summer in one piece,” she said. Bungee jumping had been only the beginning. Fortunately for Julian, he had a big brother who was smart and caring. Rather than fighting against the boy’s fascination with height and speed, Connor found ways to channel it. He took Julian and some of the other campers to explore the steep white cliffs and ice caves of the Shawangunk’s Ridge, hung a rope swing from a tree by the lake and took a group to the top of the highest ranger lookout tower. At yesterday’s farewell celebration, there had been a mountain bike descent. Lolly knew she’d never forget the sound of Julian’s screams of joy as he’d ridden down, nor would she forget the proud, affectionate grin on Connor’s face as he watched.

  A wave of love came over her and she moved close to him, her hand brushing his. “This is the first time in my life I’m sorry to see camp end,” she said.

  “I never liked seeing it end.”

  Ramona Fisher came running over. “There you are, Lolly. I told my mom I wasn’t leaving until I said goodbye.”

  Lolly opened her arms to the little girl for a hug. It had taken lots of time and attention, but she had managed to get Ramona through the crippling homesickness that had paralyzed her at the beginning of summer. She’d convinced the girl that it was only human to miss the people you love, but that their absence didn’t have to make you miserable.

  Sneaking a glance
at Connor, Lolly wondered if she would be able to take her own advice, once she went away to college. The very thought of going for days or weeks or even months without seeing him sent a cold spike of dread clean through her.

  “This is for you,” Ramona said, “to remember me by.” She offered up a friendship bracelet, made of bright threads and beads. Painstakingly woven into the narrow strap were the initials RF and LB.

  “That’s awesome, Ramona.” Lolly held out her hand so the girl could tie it on. “I’ll wear it with pride.”

  “And I’m going to do it,” Ramona said as she carefully knotted the bracelet. “I’m going to sign up for swim team at the Y in Nyack.”

  “They’ll be lucky to get you,” Lolly said.

  Whistles shrieked and car horns honked, and everyone got busy sorting kids into car pools and herding them onto the bus. But between Lolly and Connor there was an invisible thread. Over the weeks of summer, the bond had grown and deepened, and now he felt like her whole world. She had admitted to him that he had been the first boy to kiss her. “That makes me glad,” he’d said. “I like being your first.”

  Tonight would be another first, and they both knew it. She thought about their plans and felt a tug of that invisible thread. He must have felt it, too, because surrounded by boys at the bus circle, helping with luggage, he stopped what he was doing, turned and looked at her. They shared a fleeting, private smile of conspiracy, then went back to their duties.

  “Papa! It’s Papa!” Julian went into a frenzy, waving the Fledglings sign like a white flag of surrender. “Connor, my papa’s here!” the kid practically screamed. He ditched the banner and went speeding through the crowd.

  “It’s the Nutty Professor,” Connor said to Lolly as they went to greet Louis Gastineaux.