Down By The Water

by Cruise, Anna

“I dunno.” I could hear Ty open the door of his truck and I inched closer to my car, lowering my voice. “This other guy stopped, though.”

  “Is he fixing it? Or towing it?”

  “No.” I chewed on my lip. “He's going to give me a ride into town.”

  “What?” Jenna's voice grew agitated. “Where? Where is he taking you? What town? Who is this guy?”

  “Relax,” I said. It was weirding me out, hearing my younger, completely screwed up sister freak out about me.

  “I'm not going to relax,” she said. “You're in the middle of nowhere. No, that's not true. You know where you are. We weren't ever going back, Lily.” Her voice was laced with panic. “You need to get out of there.”

  “I know.” I swallowed against the lump in my throat. “I'm trying. He's just giving me a lift. I'll figure something out. I just didn't want you to worry.”

  “I'm coming,” she announced.

  “No, you're not.” My voice was sharp.

  “You need help.”

  “No, I don't.”

  “Do you...” she faltered and tried again. “Do you want me to call Dad? Mom?”

  I shook my head hard. “No. Absolutely not.”

  “But, Lily...”

  My voice was almost a whisper “Neither of them were on board with me leaving. They're sure as shit not going to be on board when they found out where my car broke down. And you're not gonna tell them. Got it?”

  Jenna didn't respond and I could picture what she was doing. Chewing on her own lip, a nervous habit we'd both inherited from our mother. Tugging on her earlobe, twisting the diamond stud she always wore, her flesh turning an angry pink as she tightened her grip. Probably pulling a cigarette out of her purse, desperate to hold something so she wouldn't shove her fingernails into her mouth.

  “Promise me,” I said. “Promise me you won't say anything. I'll be fine.”

  “But...”

  “No buts.”

  “You can't go back there,” my sister said, her voice barely a whisper.

  I didn't say anything for a long time, just held the phone to my ear, letting the silence hang over us.

  Finally, I spoke. “I don't have a choice.”

  FOUR

  “Are we good to go?”

  I handed the phone back to Ty. “I guess.”

  We were sitting in the cab of his truck, my purse and duffel bag at my feet, the air-conditioner on full blast. He'd handed me another bottle of water as I made a few more calls. To the rental office at Oak Terrace, letting them know I'd had car trouble. To Timely Towing, where my call was directed to an answering machine. And to A-Plus Auto, where the recording informed me they were indeed closed until Monday.

  He took the phone and his fingers grazed mine. “Let me make one more call.” He tapped at the screen and the phone began to ring. He'd put the call on speaker.

  “Hello?” A woman's voice.

  Ty smiled. “Mom.”

  “Are you going to be late for dinner?” she asked.

  “Nope,” he said. He shifted the truck into drive. “Just wanted to let you know I'm bringing a guest. If that's okay.”

  “A guest? Not Caroline—” I wasn't sure but I thought I heard a flicker of hope in her voice.

  He cut her off. “No, no. Someone passing through town. Her car broke down. I didn't want to leave her out on the highway.”

  “Oh.” She sounded surprised. “Of course. Well, we're having taco bake. And a Jello salad. I hope that's okay?”

  Ty glanced at me, eyebrows raised and I bit back a smile.

  “I think that's fine, Mom.” He stepped on the gas and the truck lumbered back on to the highway. “We'll be there in a few.” He ended the call and and tossed the phone into an empty drink holder.

  “See?” he said. “I'm totally cool. Even if my mom is a bit of a nut.” He rolled his eyes. “Who the hell serves Jello salad with a taco casserole?”

  I smiled in spite of myself and the situation I was in. Ty was definitely a good guy.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  He just nodded and turned the radio up a notch, some country song I didn't know. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat, his eyes focused on the road.

  I leaned against the side of the truck and stared out the window, trying to steel myself for what was coming. Pelican Lake.

  It had been ten years since I'd been there. Since Jenna had been there. Since my whole family had been there.

  I wondered if it would look the same, if the images that had been seared into my memory would ring true. I'd clung to the strangest details. The farm on the outskirts of town, the one with a blue barn. It was the first blue barn I'd ever seen. The log cabin home tucked among the corn fields, beautifully rustic and awkwardly out of place. The soft serve shack in the middle of the post office parking lot, a three-foot plastic ice cream cone spinning on the rooftop. It was a swirl cone, chocolate and vanilla, and my parents had promised us girls a trip into town for ice cream before we headed back home. We'd never gotten it.

  “You're awfully quiet,” Ty said. “You feeling okay?”

  I squirmed a little in my seat. The water had run right through me and I had to pee. But it was more than that. “Yeah. I'm fine.”

  He noticed. “We're almost there. Just a few more minutes.”

  The blue barn came into view just as the first raindrops splattered against the windshield. I stared at it as we passed, trying to stem the flood of emotions and memories bubbling dangerously close to the surface. It must have gotten a fresh coat of paint recently because it was vibrant and bright, a beacon of color against the darkened sky. We passed the tiny, local supermarket and the used car lot. A-Plus Auto was out my window, a closed sign hanging in the door, the parking lot deserted. I swiveled on the bench seat and saw the soft serve shack, the ice cream cone still dancing slowly on the roof. And then stop signs where the highway morphed into Pelican Lake's main thoroughfare, streets branching off from it, neat, tidy houses lining those roads. I wondered which one was Ty's, where we would turn.

  But he kept driving.

  “I thought you lived in Pelican Lake?” But even as I said it, I couldn't remember him ever telling me he lived in town. I had just assumed.

  “You been here before?” he asked.

  I hesitated. “Once. A long time ago.”

  “I do live in Pelican Lake.” The speed limit changed back to 55 and he stepped on the gas. “Right on the outskirts.”

  I inhaled sharply. “Where?”

  But I didn't need to ask. I knew. Because he slowed down almost immediately, right at the entrance of the one place I never thought I'd see again.

  “I live here,” he said, pulling into the gravel driveway of the Lake Land Camping Resort.

  I didn't want to remember it, but I did. It was one of those things I didn't allow myself to forget, despite how hard I tried to do so. The wooden sign mounted in a bed of tiger lilies, the orange, star-shaped flowers waving in the breeze, their blossoms darkened by the rain still falling. The two-story, white stucco home that housed the owners of the resort. The rows of fifth wheels and RVs just visible beyond the grove of white birch trees and red pines. And further still, just out of sight, the stretch of tent sites that abutted the river.

  I could feel my breath hitch in my throat, could taste the panic on my tongue. My heart slammed into my ribs, bruising them, and the roar sounded again in my ears, a freight train bearing down on me. I didn't think, just reacted. I reached for the door handle and turned. I jumped out of the cab, stumbling as I tried to find my footing. My left foot slid a little, my sandal slipping on the wet gravel but I fought for balance.

  The truck screeched to a stop and Ty was instantly by my side. He grabbed me by the shoulders. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Lightning streaked across the sky and I struggled out of his grasp. “I can't stay here. I can't be here.” Rain pounded down, drenching me. I welcomed it as it pelted my scalp and skin, as it soaked my th
in t-shirt and denim shorts, trailing down my bare legs.

  He reached for me again, his fingers digging into my wet flesh. “What are you talking about?”

  I couldn't explain to him. I couldn't tell him what being back in Pelican Lake meant to me, what being back at Lake Land resort did to me. I couldn't do it because I'd never planned on coming back.

  “Hey.” His grip loosened and I felt his fingers caress my skin. “Are you okay?”

  My eyes filled with tears. No, I was not okay. I was a fucking wreck. But there were things I couldn't say—not to people I knew and certainly not to a total stranger.

  I swallowed a few times, trying to calm myself down. Deep breaths in and out, just like Dr. Shepard had taught me. I closed my eyes, breathing through my nose, expelling through my mouth. I closed my eyes and counted silently in my head, one to twenty, nice and slow.

  I opened my eyes. It was still raining. Thunder reverberated off the in distance. And I was still where I didn't want to be.

  But I was okay. For now.

  Ty's hand was still on my arms. His eyes were filled with concern. “Are you okay?” he repeated.

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  “What the hell was that about?”

  “I...I don't know.” I tried to think of something to say, something that wouldn't make me look like a fucking psychopath.

  “Well, you just leaped out of a moving vehicle.” He let go of me and folded his arms across his chest. Drops of rain dripped from the rim of his hat but he didn't seem to care. “Figured you must have decided you have a huge problem with eating taco casserole and Jello salad at the same meal.”

  I almost smiled. “No, no.” I shook my head. What the hell could I tell him? Not the truth. “I just thought about what you said back on the highway. The whole serial killer thing. And, I don't know. I guess I kind of panicked.” It sounded ridiculously lame, even to me.

  Ty's eyebrows drew together in concern. “Oh, shit. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have joked around like that.” He shoved his hands in his shorts pockets and leveled his eyes on mine. Even with his hat on, drops of water clung to his eyelashes and dripped from his chin but, if it bothered him, he didn't show it. “I'm not. Promise. And if you'll get back in the truck and drive another hundred yards or so, you can go in the house and see I'm just a normal guy.” He smiled. “With a really weird mom.”

  He was trying to bring some much-needed levity to the situation and I appreciated it. Mostly because it got me off the hook for looking like a lunatic.

  I looked down at my drenched shirt and shorts. “I'm going to get your truck soaking wet.”

  “Hello?” he said, motioning to his clothes. “We're going to get the truck wet.”

  FIVE

  Ty's mom was waiting for us when we burst through the front door.

  “Did you walk home?” she asked, her eyebrows raised. She had Ty's hazel eyes, warm and friendly, and silvery blond hair pulled back into a loose bun.

  Ty took his soaked hat off and tossed it on the pine side table in the hallway. He shook, sending droplets of water flying in the hallway. “Not quite.” He didn't elaborate.

  His mother turned to me, the warmth from her eyes finding their way into an easy smile. “Ty said your car broke down. Are you from around here?”

  I shook my head. “No. Just traveling through.” I stood there and dripped, watching as the water pooled beneath me, the carpet runner I stood on turning a shade darker.

  She moved past me and opened a door in the hall. She reached inside, grabbed a handful of fluffy yellow towels, and handed one to me. She tossed the other to to Ty.

  “Dry off,” she said. She looked me up and down. “You need to get out of those clothes. Wait here—I'll go grab some.”

  It was my turn to raise my eyebrows. Ty's mother wasn't huge but there was no way her clothes were going to fit me.

  Ty noticed my expression and grinned. “Don't worry,” he said, toweling his arms and legs. “She'll get something of Mary's.”

  “Mary?”

  He wrinkled his nose. “My sister.”

  Within minutes, his mom reappeared with a handful of clothes. I started to protest but she raised her hand and shushed me.

  “Take these into the bathroom,” she instructed, motioning to an open door down the hallway. “I'll get your stuff washed and dried before you leave.”

  I didn't argue. Not because I agreed but because I didn't have anything else to offer. I stepped into the bathroom and shut the door and braced my hands on the vanity. I stared at my reflection for a minute, trying to get a handle on the situation. My hair was plastered to my scalp and my eyeliner had streaked under my eyes, making me look more like a football player than a junior college graduate. My nose was a shade pinker than before, the hint of a sunburn blossoming. I was a disaster, inside and out.

  I peeled off my wet shorts and dropped them on the bathroom floor. Ty's mom had brought me a pair of black yoga pants and I debated for half a second before slipping out of my wet panties, too. I wasn't thrilled with having a total stranger wash my underwear but it was so wet, I didn't have much of a choice. The fabric was soft and smooth as I slid the pants on. They weren't long enough and I imagined Ty's sister must have been short. I fought with my t-shirt, wriggling my way out of it and my bra. I let those fall to the floor, too and tugged on the pale pink t-shirt I was given. The shirt was thin and my nipples were clearly visible. I sighed. Not much I could do about that. I raked my hand through my hair, bringing strands forward to try to cover my breasts as best I could.

  I used the bathroom and scrubbed my face clean of eyeliner. Satisfied that I didn't look as deranged as I had five minutes ago, I opened the door and stepped back into the hallway.

  Ty was still there, tapping at his phone. He'd stripped off his white tank top and I felt my eyes drift from his face to his chest and stomach. Smooth, tanned skin, his abdominal muscles taut, defined. I almost sighed. He was definitely delectable. And absolutely off limits—for a multitude of reasons.

  He glanced at me, his eyebrows raised. “You good?”

  No, I wasn't good. There were a million thoughts swirling through my mind and my nerves were shot. But I tried to focus on the positives. I wasn't stuck in my broken-down car. I'd been given dry clothes and had a free dinner waiting for me. And the guy who was responsible for it all was genuinely a nice guy. A hot, nice guy.

  “As good as I can be,” I said.

  He looked me up and down and I thought his eyes lingered for a second on my shirt. I resisted the urge to glance down and see exactly how much was on display through the thin fabric of the t-shirt I'd been given. “I knew Mary's clothes wouldn't be a perfect fit.” His voice was dismissive and I decided I must have imagined that he'd zeroed in on my tits. “But it works.”

  He reached for a t-shirt draped over the staircase railing and slipped it over his head. He'd already changed his shorts—new cargoes, dark blue. He ran his hand through his almost-dry hair and smiled at me and I wanted to kick myself for the flurry of butterflies that stirred in my stomach. “Ready for dinner?”

  I nodded. “Sure.”

  I followed him down the hallway, looking around as we walked. I remembered seeing the house ten years ago, but I'd never gone in. Even then, I'd wondered what it looked like inside. At first, I'd thought it was available for rent, too. I remembered asking my parents why we couldn't just stay in the house instead of pitching the two tents we'd shoved into the back of my mom's Dodge Caravan. They'd explained that the resort owners lived there, that they took care of the property year-round. I'd been impressed, a little envious, even, that some lucky family got to live somewhere with their own personal pool—not some tiny, backyard pool, but a big one, big enough to swim laps and jump off the diving board. I'd wondered if they had kids, and what it would be like to a have a revolving door of new friends to meet, to play with. Our own house was situated on the outskirts of our tiny town and the only time we saw friends was when we were in school
.

  “How long have you lived here?” I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral.

  We were just outside the dining room. Ty looked at me curiously. “Forever. Why?”

  He'd been here ten years ago. So he would know.

  “No reason,” I said.

  My pulse quickened but I breathed through it. He wouldn't remember me. We hadn't interacted with the host family until after. The memories of the aftermath were hazy, shrouded by a fog of sorrow and guilt and anger. I knew we'd talked to them but meeting Ty's mother had triggered nothing. I couldn't put it all together, but I could feel it inside me, tugging at me, threatening to drag me under.

  Ty pulled out a chair for me at the large oak dining table and I sat down. The walls were the color of rust and gold, with floor-length curtains pulled open, allowing a view of the copse of trees that hid the bulk of the resort. The rain had tapered off but the sky was still an angry gray, a blanket of clouds shrouding the evening sun.

  “Is it just the three of us?” I asked.

  Ty sat down next to me and nodded at the place settings. “You think we set the table for our resident ghosts?”

  I glanced at the table. There were four place settings, not three.

  I felt the heat creep into my cheeks. “Oh.” I looked at him. “You have ghosts?”

  He shrugged. “A couple. They don't make themselves known too often.” His tone was light and I couldn't tell whether he was messing with me or not.

  I shivered a little. Ghosts creeped me out. Not that I'd ever had any experience with them, but just the thought of souls returning from the dead gave me goosebumps. Especially one. Because I wouldn't know what that one person would say, how that person would react to me.

  Ty's mom bustled in from the kitchen, a metal pan cradled in her hands. Her eyes met mine as she set the dish down in the middle of the table and she nodded in approval.

  “You look much better,” she said, smiling.

  It sounded like a compliment, not a jibe, and I smiled back. “Thank you—” I didn't finish because I realized I didn't know her name. Or Ty's last name. And I didn't think I should address her as Ty's Mother.