“Trixie, this is my old friend, Jake,” she says. Trixie buries her face shyly into Katie’s neck, so I’m not sure if I’m supposed to say anything to her.
Pop bellows from the porch, “Those steaks aren’t going to cook themselves!”
“I better go get that,” I mutter.
“Sally can stay with me?” I hear Katie’s daughter say quietly.
“Of course he can.” Katie brushes her daughter’s hair back from her face, her fingers tender. “You don’t mind, do you, Jake?”
I don’t think I could pry the dog away from the girl if I tried. “No, you can keep him for now,” I say.
I go out onto the porch, and see that Gabby and Pop are using rocks from the driveway as betting chips. Pop has a stack of five. Gabby has a big pile. “She’s kicking your ass, huh?”
He grunts at me.
Gabby smiles. “I’m going to win his hat if he keeps on going.”
“I’d like to see that,” I say.
I get the steaks and put them on the grill. A few minutes later, Pop walks up to me. He’s not wearing a hat. “Something is wrong,” he says quietly.
“What do you mean?” I lay the last steak on the grill.
“With this family,” he says. “Something is wrong.”
“You’re delusional, old man,” I joke, but I suddenly realize how serious he is. He’s not kidding. His gut is telling him something is off.
“Katie jumps at her own shadow. She hasn’t taken that cap off since we got here, and her kids flinch if you look at them wrong. Something is not right.”
“Did she say anything to you?”
“Who?” Pop asks. He pretends to be interested in the steaks.
I nod toward Gabby, who is still sitting on the porch. “The oldest daughter.”
“She just said her dad can’t help them. That’s all.”
“Where is he?”
Pop glares at me. “I have no idea. But you need to find out.”
“Okay,” I say, more to myself than to Pop. “I’ll find out.”
10
Katie
Alex runs into the house and dashes to his room. He comes back with a football, which was one of the two toys he chose to bring with him. The other one was a stuffed rabbit his dad won for him at the fair when he was four. He sleeps with it, but he would never admit that. Jeff spent about eighty bucks trying to win that bear, with Alex on his shoulders the whole time, cheering him on. He could have gone to a department store and purchased a bear cheaper, but he wanted that one.
“Where are you going?” I call to Alex.
He skids to a stop in the doorway. “To throw my football.”
“Don’t go far,” I say, and then I motion for him to proceed.
He slams the door behind him so hard the windows rattle.
I take the pie out of the oven and set it on the counter to cool. The door opens and Jake walks in. “Do you have any tenderizer?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I don’t have anything,” I reply. I open a cabinet that Gabby filled earlier. “Unless you need baked crackers that look like fish or a juice pouch, you’re shit out of luck.”
He walks over close to me and appraises the juice pouches. Then he shrugs and reaches for one.
“Wait,” I say. I reach into the fridge and get him a cold one instead. He grins at me.
“You always did know the way to my heart, Katie,” he says. He pops the straw through the pouch and sucks it hard.
I snicker. “The last time I tried to find your heart, Jake, I found your dick instead.”
He chortles. “Dick…heart… It’s about the same thing when you’re a sixteen-year-old boy.” His eyes narrow. “You doing all right, Katie?” he asks, his voice soft.
I nod and avoid his eyes, which are skimming all over my face. I turn away and pretend to adjust the juice pouches in the refrigerator. “I’m fine. Happy to be here.”
“What brings you back to the lake?”
“Some much needed rest and relaxation.” I grab a stack of paper plates and get a handful of knives and forks out of the silverware drawer. “Grab those paper towels, will you?”
I turn to walk toward the front door, but Jake grabs my elbow. “Katie,” he says quietly.
I blow out a frustrated breath. “What?” He tugs a little harder on my arm until I stop completely and meet his eyes.
“Pop thinks there’s something wrong with you.” His eyes skitter around my face, and I wish my arms weren’t so full so I could pull the brim of my cap down a little. “Tell me there’s nothing wrong with you, Katie,” he says, his words as soft as a whisper.
“There’s nothing wrong with me,” I reply, but even I can hear the warble in my voice.
“Would you tell me if there was?”
“Why would I, Jake?” I toss back. “I haven’t seen you in eighteen years.”
He stares at me. “Because I’m here and I’m asking, Katie.”
“There’s nothing wrong, Jake.”
“Are you certain?”
“Positive.”
He reaches out a tentative hand and lifts the corner of my ball cap. “Where’d you get that shiner?”
I laugh, trying for a whimsical sound. But it sounds more like I’m choking on my own regret. I pull the cap off and toss it onto the table. “Oh, that,” I say. “I ran into a cabinet door.” I set the plates down on the counter and fluff my hair with my fingertips. “It hurt like a mother–”
Jake reaches out and drags his thumb across the fading bruise. “Don’t lie to me, Katie.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Did your husband hit you?” he asks. “Tell me the truth, Katie, and I’ll never ask again. I just want to be sure you’re all right.”
“My husband would never hurt me,” I growl. He would never, ever lay a hand on me. “You’re barking up the wrong tree, Jake.”
“You hit your face on a door. That’s all it was?”
“Yes. I hit my face on a door.” Technically, I’m telling the truth. Maybe that’s why it’s easy to lie to him. “It was stupid.”
Mr. Jacobson bellows through the door. “Jake! Better take the steaks up!”
“I had better get the steaks,” Jake says.
“You should.”
“Katie…”
“Go get the steaks, Jake,” I say sternly, using my mom voice, the one that the kids don’t even try to argue with.
He turns and walks away. And I’m glad he does, because if he’d stayed for one more moment or asked me one more time, I might have told him the truth, and that won’t help anybody.
11
Jake
She’s lying. I’m certain of it. You know how I know? She didn’t look me in the eye once when she was telling me about how she ran into the cabinet door. With her face.
She didn’t give herself that shiner.
I walk out of the cabin, trying to contain the rage that has suddenly built up within me. I want to punch something, preferably her abusive husband. Despite her vehement opposition to my question, I know someone has hurt her. She flinched when I touched her elbow. She flinched when I moved too fast in the kitchen.
I look over to the steps, where I see my dog lying with his head on Trixie’s lap. She has his paw in her hand and she’s painting his toenails a soft pink color. “I could have sworn that dog had a penis,” I say out loud.
Trixie looks down between the dog’s legs. “He does have a penis,” she says quietly. She nods solemnly at me. She points to the appendage. “He has a penis right there. See?” She stops painting long enough to wait for my response.
I sit down beside her on the step. “Then why are you painting his toenails pink?” I scratch my head.
Her delicate brow furrows. “Boys can like pink too.” Then she grins and swipes the tiny little paint brush down the dog’s toenail again. Sally’s head falls down in Trixie’s lap and he closes his eyes. He’s either decided to give up or he enjoys the attention. I can’t figure out
which.
“You got a penis too, right?” she suddenly asks.
“Um…”
Then I hear a snicker from behind me. I turn around and find Alex standing right behind me, tossing his football up in the air and catching it over and over. “You’re not supposed to be asking people about their private parts,” Alex chides.
“Oh,” Trixie breathes out. She visibly deflates and I feel like a schmuck.
“Well, I’m a boy…” I say.
Alex laughs out loud this time. “How old are you again?” Alex asks.
“The same age as your mother,” I tell him. Our birthdays are just days apart. Mine is June tenth and hers is June fifth. I used to tease her unmercifully about her being the older woman.
Trixie sets Sally’s paw down and grins. “You want some pink fingernails?” she asks me.
“I had better not.” I’d never live that down at the precinct.
“Uncle Adam lets me paint his fingernails.” She blinks her pretty blue eyes at me.
“Uncle Adam is gay,” Alex says.
I can still remember the day that I learned that Katie’s uncle and her dad weren’t really an uncle and a dad. I remember when I went home and told my dad about it, he looked at me, grinned, and said, “That’s when I know I’ve raised a good man, when he learns something new and doesn’t judge.” Then he squeezed my shoulder and walked away.
12
Jake
I walked Katie home that night after our first kiss. I felt like it was my duty. My honor. She twined her fingers with mine and led me to cabin 114. She knocked on the door softly. “Just in case they’re playing Scrabble in the living room,” she whispered.
The door opened and a man poked his head out. His eyes drifted down Katie’s body. “Why are you in someone else’s clothes?” he asked. He opened the door wider and Katie slipped beneath his outstretched arm.
“For what you are about to experience, I apologize,” she murmured at me.
The man narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?”
“Dad, this is Jake,” Katie said. The man still hadn’t stepped to the side, so I didn’t know if I should wait or leave or kiss his ass.
“Jake?” he asked. “As in the horny sixteen-year-old Jake that Old Man Jacobson warned us about?” He tipped his head back a little so he could look down his very impressive nose at me.
“I’m not horny, sir,” I said, my gut roiling. I might just toss up that beer after all.
“You do have a penis, don’t you, son?” he asked. He leaned forward like he was looking for mine, which was enough to make my balls all but shrivel up inside me.
“Would you leave the boy alone?” someone called from behind them both. He caught the door and opened it, then stepped up beside Katie’s dad. “He’s trembling in his flip flops, Dan. Let him inside.”
Dan stepped back and motioned for me to proceed. I did so on shaky legs.
“I’m Erik Jacobson, Jr. Everyone calls me Jake.” I said. I held out my hand like my dad taught me to do. No cold fish handshakes allowed from a Jacobson. No sirree. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Dan Higgins,” the man said, and he squeezed my hand so hard I wanted to drop to my knees.
“Knock it off!” the other man snarled. Mr. Higgins let me go.
“Jake, this is my dad.” She set her hands on his broad shoulders and peeped at me over his shoulder. Then she jerked her thumb toward the other guy. “And this is my Uncle Adam.”
Adam extended his hand and I found his grip to at least be tolerable.
“So sorry Dan started out by looking for your dick. You can take the boy out of the junior high school, but you can’t take the junior high school out of the boy.” He shoved Dan’s shoulder.
I saw that they had a Scrabble game set up on the table, but they hadn’t even set up any tiles. “Who won?” I asked, nodding toward the game.
Dan smirked until Adam gave him a dirty look. He swiped a hand across his mouth like he was wiping away a grin.
“I totally won,” Dan said on a laugh. Adam’s cheeks turned rosy.
“I love Scrabble,” I said.
Adam snorted. Dan growled at me. “Under no circumstances will you be playing Scrabble with our daughter.”
I looked from one to the other. “Our daughter?” I asked. “Like, both of you?”
“Get the boy a chair before he faints,” Adam called as he walked toward the tiny kitchen. “Anybody want some ice cream?”
“As long as it’s cool and wet, I’ll take it,” Dan called back.
“That’s not what you said earlier,” Adam returned.
Katie laughed into her palm. “I am so sorry,” she murmured to me.
I scratched my head. “I’m so confused.”
Dan walked into the kitchen and stood behind Adam. They touched one another at times, and I suddenly got it.
“He’s not your uncle, is he?”
Katie winced. “No, he is.”
“Then Dan’s not your dad.”
She winced again. “No, he is my dad. It’s sort of complicated.”
“It’s not complicated at all,” Adam said as he started to ladle ice cream into bowls. “Doofus here had some sperm he wanted to give up. And my sister just happened to have some ovaries and a uterus for rent, not to mention an egg or two and some DNA that’s a lot like mine. So she volunteered to give us the eggs and let us lease the uterus. Then she shagged ass.”
“Your mom left?” I asked Katie.
“Left isn’t really the right word.” Katie tried to explain. “She visits, and she takes me shopping, and I call her with girly questions. She’s more like a favorite aunt than a mother.”
“We have to enlist her help occasionally.” Adam motioned from him to Dan and back. “We don’t know shit about tampons and stuff, since neither one of us has ever been near a vagina.”
Katie’s cheeks flamed red again.
“You’re gay,” I suddenly blurted out.
“He’s a smart one, isn’t he?” Dan winked.
“Shut it,” Adam barked, pointing a spoon at Dan. “Yes, we are gay. Does that bother you?”
“No sir,” I said, and I sat down on a stool, accepted my bowl of ice cream, and shoveled a spoonful into my mouth.
“Good boy,” Dan said as he patted my head like I was a puppy.
Katie sat down beside me and leaned over to whisper in my ear. “Are you sure you’re okay with it? Some people aren’t.”
I shoveled the last bite of ice cream into my mouth and Dan put a new scoop in my bowl. I ate it to keep from answering.
Katie heaved a sigh. She began to nervously shake her legs, and her knee jumped so hard I was afraid she’d vibrate the stool she was sitting on right out the door. I finished my ice cream while they all chit-chatted about the cold water we fell into, and Katie explained why she was wearing my clothes. Adam and Dan ribbed one another.
“I should go,” I said. “My dad will be worried.” I took my empty bowl to the sink and rinsed it out.
“Damn, Old Mr. Jacobson raised a son with manners,” Dan said.
“You know my dad?”
They both grinned. “He caught us kissing when we were about your age,” said Adam. “We were taking a walk down by the shore. In the moonlight.”
Dan dropped his voice down to a gruff growl. “‘You boys need to get a room,’ he said to us.”
“We quickly found out that he said that to all the straight kids, too.” Adam laughed, then sobered. “I was really sorry to hear about your mom.”
I nodded. I didn’t like to talk about my mother. “Thanks.”
“I’m going to walk Jake to the door,” Katie said.
“You mean you’re going to kiss his face off,” Dan said. He glared at Katie. “No.” He pointed to the door. “Good night, Jake.”
“Good night, sir,” I said.
I walked all the way to the door without looking back. “Thank you for the ice cream,” I said as I slipped outside. Then quickly I
poked my head back in again. “Can I come and visit Katie tomorrow?”
The corners of her lips tipped up.
Dan looked at me and shrugged. “That’s up to Katie.”
Katie smiled at me and nodded her head. “I’d like that.”
As I walked away from the cabin, I could hear Adam inside, taunting playfully. “Jake and Katie sittin’ in a tree…”
Then I ran all the way home to tell my dad about Katie’s oddly intriguing family. And he said I made him proud, although I couldn’t figure out why accepting someone’s sexuality was something to be proud of. It was kind of like him being proud of me if I said I liked blue eyes.
“I’m going to see her again tomorrow,” I told my dad.
He went to his room and came back with a small box of condoms. He threw the box at my face, and I caught it, juggling.
“Seriously, Dad?”
“If that girl gets you pregnant, I’m going to be really angry at you.”
“Yes sir,” I said, and I grinned all the way to my room. I took a condom out of the box and pressed it into my wallet. You know, just in case.
13
Jake
After dinner, Pop announces that I am going to do the dishes, and then he goes back to the little table on the porch and picks up the deck of cards. He motions for Katie’s oldest daughter to join him. She grins, shaking her head as she goes. “I’m going to get his wallet next,” she says.
I sincerely hope she does.
“Can I borrow your phone, Jake?” Katie asks me very quietly as we stack the dishes beside the sink.
“Sure.” I pull it out of my pocket and hold it out to her.
“Thanks.” She takes it and steps into the bedroom, closing the door gently behind her.
I fill the sink with water and bubbles, and wash the few forks and knives that we got dirty, and I clean a few glasses.
The soft sound of Katie’s voice reaches me in quiet lulls, and I think I hear her giggle. I shut off the water and tiptoe toward the bedroom door. I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t. But I can’t help it.
Feels Like Summertime Page 4
