The Final Piece

by Maggi Myers

  Currently, I don’t see “pretty” anything staring back at me in the dressing room at Von Maur. I squirm uncomfortably as Aunt Melissa ties the back of the bikini I am trying on.

  “Quit fidgeting, Beth!” she protests. “I have never seen a girl hate shopping as much as you.” I scowl at her as our eyes meet in the mirror. “We can’t go to the lake this weekend unless you’ve got a suit, baby girl. That old one of yours can fuel the next bonfire.”

  “I like my old suit,” I whine, “this shows too much skin, Aunt Melissa. I can’t ski in this!” I face her and gesture toward the minuscule triangles of fabric she is calling a bikini. She cups my face in her hands and draws in a deep breath.

  “Beth, you are a beautiful girl. You’re going to be fifteen in a few days,” her gentle tone softens the rough edge of my anxiety. ”Let me buy you some new things. You can’t hide behind your frumpy t-shirts forever. Trust me.” As she speaks she runs her thumbs along my cheeks, soothing my frayed nerves. ”Now turn around, but close your eyes until I tell you to open them.” I am about to open my mouth in protest when she holds a finger up to my lips. “Trust me.”

  “Fine,” I mutter. I close my eyes and allow Aunt Melissa to turn me toward the mirror.

  “Now, stand up straight, shoulders back and smile like you mean it!” Even though I feel like an idiot, I follow her directive. ”That’s better, now open your eyes,” she whispers.

  Whoa.

  I stare at my reflection in awe. My posture generates an air of confidence I don’t have. It transforms my reflection and I finally see the “pretty” me. No longer the scrawny little girl, I am tall and lean with the soft curves of a woman’s body. I run my hand across my flat stomach to where my hips flare, then across the fullness of my breasts. I am torn. Part of me loves the way this red bikini makes my pale skin look like creamy porcelain and the other part of me wants to hide anything feminine about my body. The image of Ryan sitting across the fire pops into my head. His lopsided smirk shifts as his lips begin to move, and then I hear it so clearly, I’d swear he was standing next to me, “Pretty.” Thinking of him stamps out any lingering fear I have.

  “Well,” Aunt Melissa queries. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t recognize myself.” My voice coming out of this girl’s mouth sends goosebumps skating across my skin. “I love it! I can’t believe this is me!” My excitement is uncontainable as I jump up and down.

  “Whoa, there, baby girl. No jumping in the bikini unless you want all the boys to die of heart failure.” Melissa puts her hands on my shoulders to keep me still. “Are you going to fight me on trying on a few more things? A dress? Some shorts that haven’t been hacked at with kitchen shears?”

  “No, ma’am,” I giggle. “I’m sorry I was such a pain in the butt—you’re a genius!” Aunt Melissa wastes no time dragging me around the mall, outfitting me in a new wardrobe.

  Exhausted and starving, we stop in the food court for Tasty Tacos. “Are you excited about this weekend?” Aunt Melissa asks.

  My mouth is full of spicy pork, giving me a minute to consider my answer when the realization hits me. I don’t have anything I need to edit out. With most of the details of my life in Miami out in the open, there is nothing left to hide. Melissa grabs my hand, bringing me back from my wandering thoughts, “You all right, Beth?” Her forehead is wrinkled in concern, her eyes assessing.

  “Yeah, I’m great. It just dawned on me that I don’t have to filter every thought before I speak anymore. I’m just relieved, I guess.” I squirm, suddenly feeling idiotic. “You know, about my parents and everything.”

  “That makes me so happy to hear! I love you so much, Beth, you’re the daughter I never got to have.” Aunt Melissa’s eyes mist over with her emotions. “You can tell me anything, always.”

  I squeeze her hand back, wondering how I got so lucky to have a family as wonderful as mine. Warmth spreads through me as I think about spending the upcoming weekend with them.

  “I was already looking forward to this weekend and now I can’t wait for everyone to see the new me!” I bounce in my seat. “Just in time for my birthday, too.”

  This weekend marks our annual trip to Lake Panorama. Every summer, we spend the Fourth of July at Tommy’s lake house. Lake house is a relative term—it is more like a small cabin consisting of two bedrooms, a bathroom and a kitchenette. Each bedroom is set up dormitory style, with three sets of bunk beds. The bathroom is nothing more than a pedestal sink, a toilet and a shower stall. It’s very minimalistic, but none of us care, we only care about getting out on the lake and staying out there for as long as possible.

  My birthday is July third so every year I celebrate it out on the water. We have certain traditions that are always followed: Tommy will take us water skiing and tubing, Gran will make my favorite chocolate cake and Pops will grill beer brats for dinner. I will open presents around the campfire and then we will set off a few celebratory fireworks.

  It sounds simple, but it means the world to me. It makes me feel like I matter. I’m still getting accustomed to knowing I do.

  “You are going to knock his socks off, baby girl.” Aunt Melissa gives me a Cheshire grin.

  I narrow my eyes at her as my face turns a deep shade of crimson. I am tempted to argue back, but I know acknowledging will only encourage her. I have already noticed her paying careful attention to my interactions with Ryan, staring a little too long or straining to listen in to our conversations. She thinks she is being subtle but it is glaringly obvious to me, hopefully it’s not to anyone else. I shake my head and let out an exasperated sigh as we collect our bags and head home.

  Chapter 13

  Gravel crunches under the tires on Pops’ car as we pull through the gate at Panorama Lake. We wind our way around the shoreline toward the lake house and my heart starts to race. Tommy’s truck and empty boat trailer are backed into the boat slip. My heart seizes just before it sinks.

  They went out without me.

  Pops’ brows scrunch together as he surveys my disappointment. The moment the car is in park, I hop out and start unloading things from the backseat. He joins me, still dissecting my emotional state under a microscope; it makes me twitchy.

  I need a little space to breathe so I grab my bag and turn to Pops, “I’m gonna go change.” By the time he opens his mouth to reply, I’m already inside the house.

  The familiar smell of pine and mothballs encircles me immediately. I glance into the first bedroom and find luggage already on two of the bottom bunks. Since the boys have clearly staked their claim, I continue to the next room. On a heavy sigh, I sit on one of the bunks and regard my bag. My fingers tremble as I pull my new things out and lay them across the bed.

  It is early afternoon and there are still several viable hours left to spend on the lake so I grab my new bikini. I chew my lip as I hold it out in front of me, knowing that I am about to cross a line I have adamantly avoided. Embracing my femininity was hard but with Dr. Warren’s wise and gentle encouragement, I did it. However, revealing my femininity still feels like a betrayal. It doesn’t matter how many times she explains that being attractive isn’t an invitation for men to behave poorly. I am still struggling with feeling guilty about my desire to strut my stuff in this bikini just to see the look on Ryan’s face. I shake off the mental warfare and draw air deep into my lungs.

  Don’t be a coward, Beth.

  I blow out the breath with force and slip out of my baggy clothes, into the much smaller swatches of fabric. There are no full-length mirrors in the house, just the mirror above the sink. As I tie the last string behind my back, I send up a prayer of thanks for that small blessing. There is nowhere for me to scrutinize myself into chickening out. I grab my flip-flops and a beach towel, carefully holding it in front of me.

  You aren’t hiding anything, dumbass. Get stepping!

  Before I lose my nerve, I swing the front door open and step out into the sunlight. The first thing I notice is Tommy bent in half,
tying up the jet boat in its slip. They’re back from their cruise around the lake. My heartbeat vibrates through my body. I move my towel from in front of me to under my arm as I mentally force myself to follow Aunt Melissa’s advice.

  Back straight, shoulders back and smile like you mean it!

  Forcing my feet forward, I pray I don’t trip and make a fool of myself. I can vaguely hear someone whistle but the blood rushing through my head is so loud, it makes everything else sound like background noise. On reflex, I turn in the direction of the noise to find Uncle Rob and Aunt Melissa unloading their Cherokee. Melissa gives a quick thumbs-up and Rob mouths, “WOW.” A sudden rush of shyness has me wavering, I giggle nervously but resist the urge to retreat back into the house.

  You can do this, Beth.

  Apparently, Uncle Rob’s catcall has drawn more than just my attention. When I turn back to the lake, Ryan’s head pops up from the back of the boat. The look on his face is priceless. Mouth hanging open, his eyes skim across my body, searching for a safe place to focus. I smirk in satisfaction, letting his appraisal fill me with confidence. When his eyes settle on mine, I raise an eyebrow in cocky awareness.

  Who’s hot under the collar now, Ry?

  “How’s the water?” I try to keep a straight face, but my body has other ideas as it begins shaking with laughter. Ryan’s eyes immediately drop to my chest and his face flushes an adorable shade of red. My mouth goes dry at his boldness; a foreign fluttering begins in my belly.

  Oh my.

  From my peripheral, I catch a life vest soaring through the air just before it knocks Ryan in the head.

  “Jesus Christ, kid, quit gawking!” Tommy’s tone is meant to be teasing but the look on his face is anything but. My heart rate increases and I have a hard time breathing.

  Wow, wow, wow.

  I am unprepared for the physical response my body is having to Ryan. When I can’t have control, I get scared; dictating how I react and detach from my feelings is how I survived my childhood. Ryan makes me feel things I have no control over and it’s frightening. My brain recognizes the fear and wants to shift into defense mode but my heart is persistent and already addicted to this beautiful boy.

  I am dizzy with my emotions so I focus on what is going on around us. Uncle Rob and Aunt Melissa are walking up behind me, Pops has disappeared inside the house. Tommy regards his nephew with a look I can only describe as overprotective. It frustrates me that Tommy is finding it necessary to shame Ryan. Even though I feel conflicted and a little dirty, I like the way Ryan is looking at me and I fear that Tommy’s outburst will hinder whatever this is cooking between us.

  “Being a little hard on the kid, aren’t you, T?” Uncle Rob’s voice floats over my shoulder. Tommy turns his scowl to Rob. “Hey man, she’s not our baby girl anymore. You can’t chase off every guy that looks at her sideways, you’ve got to lighten up!” Tommy narrows his eyes at his best friend. I don’t think he’s buying it.

  I try to be subtle as I glance over to Ryan hanging his head and rubbing his temple where the life vest hit him. Sensing my stare, his eyes lift to mine; the red staining his cheeks is a stunning contrast to the green of his irises. I give him a sheepish smile as I pull on my bottom lip with my teeth. He smirks back, his eyes dropping to my mouth. I suck in a short breath as the vision of Ryan’s lips brushing against mine flashes in my head. His eyes find mine again, spreading goosebumps across my body. As if he can sense control shifting in his favor, he hops onto the dock and walks over to me. Praying my knees aren’t knocking together, I hold my breath and close my eyes as Ryan brushes the hair off my shoulder and whispers in my ear.

  “Pretty,” his breath dances across my ear and it takes a concerted effort not to swoon.

  I am a goner.

  When I open my eyes, Ryan’s face is barely an inch from mine. I can feel all of the color drain from my face and it is my turn to gawk openmouthed at a very pleased Ryan. I read his message loud and clear: I am playing way outside of my league. If I were smart, I would run for the hills but the feeling he pulls from me is addicting. I couldn’t resist him even if I wanted to. He takes a step backward, chuckling as he reaches for something at his feet.

  “If you are going to try and ski in that...” Very slowly, Ryan drinks in my bikini. His stare scorches my skin wherever it lands, “...you are going to want to wear this.” He hands me the life vest that Tommy threw.

  Shit or get off the pot, Beth. You wanted to play, so play, already!

  Ryan crosses his arms over his chest and cocks his head to the side. He thinks he’s scared me off, but I’m not going to tuck my tail between my legs and run for cover. With as much confidence as I can fake, I take the vest and use it to smack Ryan in the gut.

  “Perv,” I snicker. Ryan’s eyebrows shoot upward, and his surprise fuels my bravery. I am feeling smug that I defied his expectations. “Don’t make me sic Tommy on you,” I tease.

  “Now that is just evil,” he laughs, gesturing toward a still notably disgruntled Tommy. Tommy’s mustache is twitching with irritation, his steely gaze shifting back and forth between Ryan and me.

  Ryan throws his hands up in defeat, “I think he is plotting to lock you away in an ivory tower.”

  I smack him with the vest again as I step around him to get on the boat. “Who’s driving this thing?” I ask Tommy who is still glaring at us. “For God’s sake, Tommy, it’s a bathing suit! Get over it already!” I huff.

  “I’ve seen more material on one of those little rat dogs,” Tommy mutters.

  “Did you really just compare my bathing suit to a dog sweater?” I cringe. ”Gross!” I slip my arms through my life vest and make sure to secure the buckles across my chest. Facing Tommy, I hold my hands out, displaying my aptly covered torso. “There, are you happy now?”

  He doesn’t answer me as he boards, he just points to the front bucket seat. When Aunt Melissa climbs on board with Ryan, Tommy points to the bench seat in the back.

  For crying out loud!

  Uncle Rob snickers under his breath as he unties the boat from the dock and joins us. I’m glad he finds this so entertaining. I’m thinking it’s more of a buzzkill. Tommy looks over his shoulder as we reverse out of the boat slip, not wasting the opportunity to point his index and middle fingers at his eyes and then at Ryan.

  This should be fun.

  Chapter 14

  Once we are out on the lake, the tension is forgotten. The jet boat flies over the surface of the lake, spraying a thin mist across my face. I blink my eyes against the wind and hold back the tendrils of hair whipping my face. As we speed past the houses dotting the shoreline, I soak in the lake’s magic. Wind and water bathe my senses, releasing all of my negative thoughts.

  “You’re up first, baby girl!” Tommy yells over the engine, “I brought the tube for you.”

  My heart surges with love for Tommy. Water skiing is as much a lake tradition as fireworks on the Fourth of July and I suck at it. On our lake trip a few years ago, I generated quite the scandal by announcing I was through with getting dragged around the lake on my face. Only Tommy would show up the following day with a bright yellow ski tube. It made me feel so special, knowing he’d gone into town to buy it and tote it back to the lake for me. The best feature on my ski tube is it has four handles for two riders. Tommy spent a lot time riding with me, until I was confident enough to go alone.

  “Breathe, baby girl, I’m here.” Tommy encourages. It’s hard to stay nervous watching the way Tommy’s face is lit up with excitement. I breathe deep into my lungs and smile back at my friend. “Now, grab the handle here and I will boost you up the rest of the way.”

  Once we are on the tube, Tommy instructs me to lay on my belly propped up on my elbows. ”Don’t let go, Beth. If your arms get tired I want you to yell ‘Hawkeye’ so I know you’re ready to let go, and I’ll let go with you.” Tommy puts his fingers in his mouth, whistling to signal Uncle Rob. The rope tethering us is pulled taut as the boat takes off.
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br />   Bouncing along in the wake of the jet boat, Tommy and I hold on for dear life. On the second lap around the lake, my arms begin burning in protest.

  “Hawkeye!” I holler into the wind.

  Tommy faces me and nods his head, “On three, ready? 1...2...3!” We let go and are dragged a few feet by the boat’s momentum. Adrenaline is still racing through me as I swim toward Tommy.

  “Oh my gosh, that was so much fun! Can we do it again?” My words come out with lightning speed, peppered with excited giggles.

  Tommy’s smile equals my own as we bob up and down in the water, waiting for Uncle Rob to circle back to us. He regards me with the warm tenderness he always does.

  “You did great, Beth! I am so proud of you,” he beams. “Happy Birthday.”

  The boat idles while Ryan grabs the ski tube. He turns to face me as he secures the towrope, “You know, I have never ridden this thing?” he notes. “Will you teach me, Beth?” He smiles innocently while I eye him suspiciously. His expression softens further and I am reminded of the boy who picked up cherries with me. The one I told I would trust. I struggle not to stumble as the boat rocks with our movement.

  Uncle Rob and Aunt Melissa pretend to be in deep conversation, but I know they are listening carefully for my response. Aunt Melissa is practically levitating off her seat with anticipation.

  “All you have to do is hold onto the handles, Ry. You don’t need me for that.” Suddenly feeling bashful, I look away. Ironically, I find myself better capable of handling flirty Ryan over friendly Ryan.

  “Maybe not,” he cocks his head as he contemplates, “it still looks like more fun with two people. You and Tommy always looked like you were having a blast out there together.”

  He looks at me with sheepish, pleading eyes. He’s very deliberate with the way he’s interacting with me, careful not to provoke defensiveness. He thinks he’s “handling” me. I smile at my pink-pedicured toes, not wanting my pleasure to be obvious.