If the Summer Lasted Forever

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If the Summer Lasted Forever Page 3

by Shari L. Tapscott


  Uncle Mark smiles at his cards, but it’s a seasick sort of look, one that makes me think he wishes we would change the subject. My dad passed away when I was six, so Uncle Mark stepped in to help with the RV park so Mom wouldn’t have to sell. I have no doubt that he’s just as protective of me as my own dad would have been.

  He lives in one of the cabins, but he eats with us every night. He dated some when I was younger, and my biggest fear was that he’d get married and leave us. But for some reason, he never did.

  “We were just talking.” I discard a ten of hearts and tap the rest of my cards on the table, feeling jittery.

  I don’t want to talk about Landon.

  Mark leans forward to pick up the pile, and I shake my head. “You don’t want to do that. Mom’s about to go out.”

  Mark looks over. Noticing the solitary card sitting face-down on the table in front of Mom, he pulls back his hand.

  “His mom is nice,” my mother continues, refusing to drop the subject. “I met her yesterday when I was checking one of the sites. I’m going to let her borrow my sewing machine for the summer.”

  I fold my hands and set my chin on the table as I wait for her to discard so I can take my turn. “How did that come up?”

  Mom shrugs, studying her card, probably wishing it would turn into something that would play. “She asked me about my art, and one thing led to another.”

  The doorbell rings before we get to my turn. It’s almost nine, but we’re supposed to have a late arrival tonight. I told the man on the phone to drive right to his site, but maybe he can’t find it.

  Mark pushes back his seat, but I hop up first. “I’ll take care of it.”

  Instead of a lost camper, I find Paige on the doorstep. “Can you take tomorrow off?”

  “I don’t think so…”

  “Hi, Paige,” Uncle Mark says from behind me, setting his hand on my shoulder.

  “Hey, Mr. Mark.” She grins. I can tell from her tone she’s about to go over my head. “I helped Dad clean our garage, and he said Lacey and I can go out on his boat tomorrow. If it’s all right with you.”

  “I have ten check-ins scheduled,” I start to protest. “And I have to water the barrels…”

  Mom wanders up, smiling when she sees Paige. “I’ll water your flowers, Lacey. It’s summer—go have fun.”

  “And I’ll take the cart around tomorrow evening to complete the check-ins,” Mark adds.

  “Then it’s a date!” Paige chirps, worrying me. She’s plotting something. Before I can drag it out of her, she runs down the porch steps. “See you tomorrow morning.”

  “Wait, Paige—”

  “I’ll be here at nine!”

  And then she slips around the massive hedge of chokecherry bushes and disappears.

  I shake my head as I close the door.

  “I was going to ask if she wanted to stay for dessert,” Mom says, “but she took off too fast.”

  “I’ll take dessert,” Mark unnecessarily says—he’s always game for sweets. “What did you make?”

  She gives him an indulgent smile and swats his arm. “We’re just getting some good strawberries in, so I made shortcake.”

  Mom’s shortcake is the angel food cake variety—homemade, not store-bought. It’s amazing. And worth sticking around for, even when she returns to the table and says, “Now, back to Landon.”

  “I don’t think we were talking about Landon anymore,” I protest.

  “I think you should offer to show him around.”

  “We’re in Gray Jay,” I say, pausing to take a bite of strawberries, whipped cream, and cake. “He’s been here more than five minutes—he’s already seen it all.”

  She raises an eyebrow and presses her lips together, trying to look stern. She’s not very good at it. “I just want you to be friendly to him.”

  “I have been friendly.”

  “And maybe the two of you could hang out a bit.”

  I point my fork at her. “Why is it I get the disturbing impression you’re trying to set me up?”

  She gives me an innocent shrug that’s anything but. “He just seems nice, that’s all. And you can’t deny that he’s easy on the eyes.”

  “Ew! Mother,” I groan. It’s one thing for me to think it…it’s another for her to say it.

  Luckily, Uncle Mark seems to agree with me, and he promptly guides the subject to the fact that my mother cheats at cards.

  She argues with him, forgetting all about Landon.

  But I don’t.

  ***

  As promised, Paige arrives at promptly nine in the morning. She takes one look at me and shakes her head. “No, no, no.”

  “What?” I look down at my ripped jeans and the T-shirt that was cute a few years ago but is now faded and butter-soft. “Did your dad implement a boating dress code since last year?”

  She rolls her eyes, which are lined with just the right amount of eyeliner to make them look exotic. “We’re not going with Dad.”

  I set my hands on my hips, refusing to budge as she attempts to push me back into the house. “He’s letting us take out the boat? By ourselves?”

  “Sort of.” She finally gives me a hard shove, making me lose my balance. “Come on. You can’t wear that.”

  Giving in, I let her drag me to my bedroom. I sit on the bed as she rummages through my closet. I love fashion, I always have, but there’s not a lot to dress up for around here. At some point, I guess I gave up.

  “This,” she says, pulling out a cute, loose gray tank top and a pair of shorts.

  “It’s not exactly warm yet,” I point out.

  “So?”

  “Paige.”

  “Humor me,” she begs, her eyes bright and hopeful. She only wears the innocent, woodland animal expression on rare occasions.

  Suddenly, I have a horrible epiphany.

  “You invited Landon, didn’t you?” The words come out as a whispered hiss.

  Paige’s eyebrows jump, and a teasing smile plays at her lips. “I thought you weren’t interested in him.”

  I look down at my bedspread and smooth a wrinkle in the old-fashioned, floral comforter. “I’m not.”

  It’s quiet for three whole seconds, and then she assures me, “I didn’t invite Landon.”

  Oh. Well. That’s good.

  Twisting my mouth to the side, I study her. It’s obvious she’s up to something, even if she hasn’t involved the boy from Site Twenty-nine. “Then who did you invite?”

  She looks down, giving the shirt in her hands a thoughtful look—but she’s really just avoiding eye contact. “Jerrett.”

  “Jerrett?” I say, aghast.

  “Gia’s not coming,” Paige quickly adds.

  Slowly, I nod, letting my hackles down. That’s the second time the girl has invaded my thoughts in just a few days. Now, don’t get me wrong—It’s not that I don’t like Gia…

  Okay. It’s that I don’t like Gia.

  And I know that’s wrong—I really do. But she made out with Thomas Wallert last year during a town picnic even though she knew he was dating me. You know what her excuse was? She thought I was home with a headache.

  Because that makes it all better.

  After that, Thomas and I broke things off. Which ended up working out better for me than Gia. You see, not even two weeks later, Thomas’s girlfriend from home—the one he forgot to mention he had—showed up and found them together. Better Gia than me, thank you very much.

  “Why did you invite Jarrett?” I ask, more curious than anything else. Unlike his sister, Jarrett is nice. He’s also been in love with Paige since we were five. Though he was always on the short, scrawny side, he’s filled out in the last few years and shot up about six inches. He’s cute, but I’m not sure he’s flashy enough to catch Paige’s attention.

  “Their cousin is visiting from Nebraska,” she answers, still avoiding my eyes. “I thought it would be fun to welcome him to Gray Jay.”

  And it clicks. Jarrett didn�
�t attract Paige’s attention—his cousin did. And why not? There’s nothing Paige likes more than a summer boy.

  “So, I’m there to keep Jarrett company while you flirt with his cousin? Why drag us along at all? You could have just asked him out.”

  She laughs and takes my shoulders, giving me a lazy shake as she finally looks at me. “It’s okay to get out of here every once in a while.”

  “You sound like my mom.” I roll my eyes and snatch the shorts and shirt from her hands. “All right. Let’s try this ‘fun’ you speak of.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The sun shines, warming the graying wooden boards of the floating dock. In contrast, the breeze picks up a chill as it blows over the lake and is downright cold by the time it reaches us. I rub my arms, trying to warm up, wondering how Paige talked me into changing.

  She hops into her dad’s pontoon boat, impervious to the cold, and stashes a soft-sided, insulated picnic tote under a seat. Her legs are a warm caramel even though it’s so early in the year, and they are crazy long. Mine are white and covered in goosebumps.

  The boys aren’t here yet, and if it weren’t for the fact that Paige rode here with me, and I don’t want to leave her stranded, I might go back to the campground.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she says, not even bothering to look up from the seat in front of the wheel.

  I smile because she knows me too well.

  The engine rumbles to life. It’s a familiar sound—the sound of warm days spent lounging on the deck, soaking up the summer sun. Warmer days than today.

  “I can’t believe your dad’s letting us take out his baby by ourselves.” I shift my weight between my feet, trying to keep warm by staying in constant motion.

  “He knew Jarrett was coming with us.”

  Jarrett’s that type—quiet, responsible. Parents love him, teachers love him…and girls like Paige don’t give him the time of day.

  The boys show up several minutes later, wearing heavy sweatshirts and jeans. I give Paige a pointed look, and she laughs under her breath, easily reading my mind.

  “Tanner, this is Lacey,” Paige says, commencing the mandatory introductions.

  I give the flaxen-haired boy a wave. He’s tall and extremely cute. With his flirtatious eyes and dimpled smile, he looks more like Gia than Jarrett.

  “Hey, Lacey,” he says, greeting me with an upward jerk of his chin that reminds me of a different boy…a boy that has started consuming more of my thoughts than he should.

  Tanner joins Paige in the boat, leaving me on the dock with Jarrett.

  “Are you cold?” Jarrett directs the question to me, though his eyes wander to Paige. He frowns as she sets her hand on Tanner’s arm. “You can have my sweatshirt if you want.”

  Poor guy. He seems to understand the arrangement.

  “Nah, I’ll warm up,” I assure him, though it’s bound to get colder when we’re cutting across the water, and I might soon regret the decision.

  He flashes me a knowing smile, but he’s too nice to call me on my ridiculous choice in clothing. “You ready?”

  The picture of good manners, Jarrett takes my hand to steady me as I step into the boat. I choose a seat in the back and watch Jarrett as he frees us from the dock. Tanner gives Paige an uncertain look as she coaxes the boat away from the dock.

  “She learned to steer years ago,” I tell him.

  Paige is the youngest of four children, and her brothers made it their personal responsibility to teach her everything they know. Appearances can be misleading. She looks like a cover model, but she can out-fish, out-hunt, out-everything just about any boy but her older brothers. At one point, she was quite the little tomboy. Officer Hilden, her father, didn’t know how to raise her any other way.

  We skim over the water, talking and laughing as we get to know Tanner. Jarrett’s quiet as usual, but I don’t mind.

  Thankfully, by midday, the day grows warm enough that the cool breeze is welcome. We float around the lake somewhat aimlessly, finally casting the anchor after several hours so we can dig into the lunch Paige packed.

  I eat my sandwich, idly watching Paige and Tanner flirt. Not only does Tanner look more like Gia, but he acts like her too. Even though they barely know each other, Tanner’s pulled Paige beside him on the bench, and the two lounge next to each other like characters from a Greek painting.

  I’m not too worried—Paige can take care of herself. It’s Jarrett I feel sorry for. He laughs with the rest of us, but it must be hard watching his cousin move in on the girl he’s had a crush on since we were young.

  When the sun is low, and the smell of campfires and charcoal briquettes is on the breeze, we head toward the dock. Kids squeal from the tiny state park campground that’s tucked in the pine trees by the shore. The spots are small, designed for tents and little popup campers, but they’re mostly full. Now that we’ve passed Memorial Day, Gray Jay is going to be packed with both tourists and people passing through.

  I don’t mind. This is the time of year I like the most—when our little mountain town comes to life.

  Eventually, it comes time to say goodbye to the boys.

  “I had a good time,” Tanner says as he gives Paige a lingering hug that makes Jarrett clench his jaw and stare out across the water.

  She giggles and promises we’ll do it again soon.

  “Bye, Lacey,” Jarrett says, nodding in a friendly way as we part. “Paige.”

  He walks away, shoulders slightly drooped, brown-haired head tilted down, half-listening to his cousin as they make their way to their truck.

  “Isn’t he gorgeous?” Paige gushes about Tanner as soon as we’re alone. I frown, still thinking about Jarrett, and then turn to her and nod. He is easy on the eyes.

  In fact, Tanner is almost as hot as Landon, but there’s one big difference between the two. While Landon’s charming, Tanner’s a little on the slimy side. He just has a way about him that makes me uneasy. Who knows—maybe it’s because he reminds me of Gia.

  “Thank you for dragging me along,” I say to Paige as soon as we get back to my house.

  She slings her arm around my shoulders and pulls me into a tight, one-armed hug. “You’re welcome. How about we go again next week?”

  “We’ll see.”

  Shaking her head, laughing, she walks across the gravel to her waiting truck. It’s a hand-me-down from her brothers, a beat-up, step-side, seventy-two Chevy in faded forest green. From the way they treat that thing, you’d think it was priceless. Paige was elated when it was her turn to drive it.

  I watch as she pulls out of the drive, going slowly down the campground road since Mark’s a bit touchy about it. I follow her, off to check the flower barrels. Even though Mom said she’d water them, I want to make sure she remembered. It’s not her fault if she forgot—she gets busy.

  Taking my time, I wander the campground, checking each one. Sometime, we should probably install a drip system.

  I finally reach the gazebo, the place where we have a cell booster and WiFi for the guests. Landon’s young teen brother, Hunter, sits on a bench, staring at his laptop, muttering to himself.

  “Hey.” I step into the gazebo just as the nighttime lighting flickers on. “How’s it going?”

  “Slow upload,” Hunter mutters, not bothering to look up. “It’s taken all day.”

  “It’s usually pretty decent.” I sit next to him, curious to see what he’s trying to do. “Well, no wonder. You have a zillion tabs open.”

  “Four,” he corrects.

  “What are you uploading?”

  “A video.”

  I make an understanding noise. “How long have you been at it?”

  “Five hours.”

  “Five hours?” I ask, aghast.

  He shrugs. Hunter’s apparently a kid of many words.

  “Why don’t you come to the house and finish it up? Our internet is much better.”

  Finally, Hunter meets my eyes. “You save the crummy internet for the
guests?”

  From the rotten gleam in his eyes, I believe he might be joking. It’s hard to tell with angsty thirteen-year-olds.

  Rolling my eyes, I stand, gesturing for him to follow me. “Come on. I made cookies the other day if you’d like to ruin your dinner.”

  And like every other teen boy in existence, the promise of food is all it takes. He stands, closing the laptop, and follows me back to the house like an obedient puppy.

  A delicious smell wafts from the back porch. Uncle Mark must be grilling steaks, but that’s something he usually reserves for company.

  “What kind of cookies?” Hunter asks, breaking his sullen silence.

  “Chocolate chip oatmeal. They’re my—” I stop abruptly when I open the front door and find Hunter’s older brother sitting on our couch, browsing through an old photo album. Mrs. Tillman and my mother sit at the dining room table, chatting over glasses of iced tea. They look awfully cozy.

  Landon smiles at my surprise. Just how long has he been here?

  Mrs. Tillman looks over from the dining room. “Oh, Hunter. I was just about to send your dad to find you. Cassie and Mark have invited us to stay for dinner.”

  They did?

  Immediately, I think of my messy, wind-blown hair and resist the urge to smooth it. Before I can rush into the bathroom to check my bedraggled appearance, a white blur of fluff comes running into the living room, yapping with glee.

  Candy leaps up, setting her tiny paws on my legs. If she were a big dog, she’d knock me down. Considering she’s no bigger than a stuffed toy, it’s sort of cute.

  “Uh, hi there…Candy,” I say, only remembering her name since she threw up Skittles the first day we met. That sort of thing leaves an impression.

  “She’s a Bichon Frise,” Landon’s sister proudly says, following her dog into the living room. “Down, Candy. Be a good girl.”

  Surprisingly obedient, the cotton ball drops to the ground.

  “A bichon…what now? She kind of looks like a poodle—” I stop when Landon wildly shakes his head behind McKenna…but not soon enough.

  The young girl scoops the dog into her arms and gives me a sad look, the kind that says she must educated me. She takes a deep breath and begins, going on about circuses and royalty, double coats, house training, and grooming schedules.

 

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