Feels Like Summertime

by Tammy Falkner

  “Summer has always been my favorite season,” he says.

  He gives my hand a squeeze.

  “It’s when it starts to warm up. The flowers bloom and the trees grow big and green. We get out swimsuits and the lake becomes our playground. We get to be loud and boisterous and make noise, and yet still share quiet moments like this.”

  A fishing crane flies by, and we both watch it.

  “I asked you to marry me because I love you. Not because Cole is out there waiting.”

  “But that’s not what you said,” I say petulantly.

  Jake tweaks my nose. “I know. I was being efficient. I thought you knew how I feel about you. I talked to your parents a few days ago. I asked them if I could offer you a ring, if I could ask you to marry me.”

  My heart clenches in my chest and the lump in my throat grows double in size. “What did they say?”

  “They said it’s your decision and that I would have to ask you.” He shrugs. “After last night, I thought it was a done deal. I should have thought about the way that stupid proposal sounded. It was an awful way to tell you how very much I love you.”

  I say nothing, because I couldn’t speak if I tried.

  “To me, you feel like summertime. You feel like warm weather and sunny skies. You feel like the occasional storm, but they always pass, and they keep things interesting. You feel like my future. You are my past. You’re my world. I want to marry you.” He clutches my hand tightly. “So if you can forgive me for asking the wrong way, will you marry me? We can stage a fake wedding two weeks from now, if you want, just to beat Cole out of the bushes. And then a real one a little later.”

  I lay my face on his shoulder.

  He lifts his shoulder to nudge my cheek. “You’re leaving me hanging here.” He chuckles.

  “I’m thinking,” I whisper.

  “Take as long as you need,” he replies. Then he leans over and reaches into his pocket. “I’m not trying to sway you or anything, but Alex threw this into the lake yesterday.”

  He hands me the folded note and then he gets to his feet. He walks a few paces away and stands still, staring toward the other end of the dock. I open the note and read.

  Dear God,

  Please tell Daddy thanks for sending Jake to us.

  Love,

  Alex

  My eyes well up with tears. “You didn’t want to sway me, huh?” I call over my shoulder.

  “Nope,” he replies.

  I hold up the note. “So this wasn’t an attempt to play on my emotions at all?” I say, but a grin tugs at my lips.

  “Nope. Hell, I didn’t write it. I just fished it out of the lake.”

  “Well, if my kids say yes,” I tell him, “then I say yes.”

  “I have to ask the kids for permission?”

  I nod. “Yes. Except for Hank. He likes you too much already.”

  “Oh, well, good,” he says. He comes and pulls me to my feet. Standing at the end of the dock are all four of my kids. They’re waiting for us. My parents are here too. “They can all tell you their answers.”

  Jake puts his arm around me. “What do you say, kids?” he yells.

  All three of them jump into the air, and Dad waves Hank’s little hand at us. “Yes!” they scream.

  Trixie runs to Jake and he scoops her up in his arms. She cups her hand around his ear and whispers something to him.

  Jake turns to me. “She said Sally wants to be the flower dog.”

  I look around. “Where is Sally?” The dog is usually right next to Trixie.

  “I thought he was with you,” Dad says.

  Panic floods my heart. I grab for Jake’s arm. “Jake—”

  “I know,” he replies. He sets Trixie down. “Go inside and set the alarm. I’ll find Sally.”

  I rush the kids toward the house, but I stop when I get to the porch. Mr. Jacobson is lying in the open doorway. He’s not moving. “Jake!” I yell.

  Just inside the door, we find Sally. He’s lying in a pool of his own blood.

  45

  Jake

  My heart fucking stops.

  “Pop,” I say, as I lean down next to him. Dan is already herding the kids toward their car. Adam drops down beside me.

  “Move over, Jake,” Adam says. “I was a medic in the Army.”

  I scoot over, but I don’t go far. “Pop!” I say again.

  Pop groans. “Jake…”

  I grab his hand. “Pop, what happened?”

  “That stupid dog of yours jumped between me and the bullet.” He lifts his head so he can look at the dog, who’s lying in a pool of blood. “Take care of the dog, Jake,” he says. “I just bumped my head is all.”

  The ambulance and the police arrive at the same time, and we get Pop checked by the EMTs. He complains the whole time. Adam takes Dan and the kids in their minivan and races off to take the dog to the emergency vet. The dog is alive, but he’s hurt badly. I sincerely doubt he’ll make it.

  “Did Katie go with Dan and Adam?” Fred asks. He has been here with me since I found Pop.

  I look around, but don’t see her. “She must have.”

  Fred holsters his gun. “Are you sure?”

  “Pop!” I yell toward the EMTs, who still haven’t given Pop the all-clear. “Did you see where Katie went?”

  He points toward the cabin. “Last time I saw her, she was headed that way.”

  “Was she alone?”

  “Yes.”

  I don’t know where Katie is. But she’s alone, and Cole is still nearby. And that scares the hell out of me.

  46

  Jake

  The morning that Katie left me was bittersweet. I knew she had to leave, to go back to school. I’d known it all summer. We’d both known it was coming. We’d spent every minute together in the weeks before she left. I knew her better than I’d ever known anyone. In fact, we’d spent the night together the night before. Her parents didn’t know it, and my dad would kill me if he found out, but Katie snuck out her window around midnight, and met me down at the dock.

  We shoved the canoe off and paddled silently away from the campground, trying to find some privacy. That night, we did nothing and everything. We loved one another completely, and not at all.

  I didn’t need to be inside Katie to be one with her. But I did need to hold her. I needed to say a proper goodbye.

  We pulled up at a nearby shore and Katie and I got out. I yanked the canoe onto the sand, and I spread a blanket on a soft spot of grass a few yards back from the shore. Then I got the cooler I’d packed earlier out of the canoe. “Are you cold?” I asked as I joined her on the blanket.

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “I could start a fire.”

  She shook her head again. “You could just hold me.”

  She didn’t have to ask me twice. I lay back on the blanket and pulled her to lie in the crook of my arm.

  “Do you think we’ll ever see one another again after this?” she asked.

  “I’ll be there when you leave tomorrow. I’m going to kiss you right in front of everyone.”

  She giggled against my chest, the sound of it sinking inside me. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Are you coming back next year?” I asked. A lot of our lodgers came back year after year. They were regulars, and we got to know them, their children, and their grandchildren.

  She shook her head. “I don’t know.” She pressed her lips to the tender skin above the collar of my shirt. “I hope so,” she whispered.

  “Will you write to me?”

  She nodded against my chest. “Of course.”

  That night, we talked about everything and nothing. We kissed until my lips were sore, until Katie put a stop to my wandering hands, until the sun peeked over the horizon and I knew our time together was almost over.

  I paddled the canoe back to the dock and hooked it up to the mooring cleat. Then I helped Katie step onto the dock. She turned to face me.

  “No matter wha
t, Jake,” she said, “I’ll always love you.” Then she buried her face in my chest.

  I held her tightly against my chest, not even close to being ready to let her go. But the sun was coming up, and I could already smell brewing coffee. It was time to take her back.

  I slid her bedroom window open and she kissed me one last time. Then I boosted her up and through the window. “I’ll see you later,” she whispered. Then she closed the window, and I imagined her sliding between cold sheets, scissoring her legs together to warm them up.

  I went home and tiptoed up the steps. Pop looked up when I came in the door. I choked. “Why are you up?” I asked.

  He looked toward the dock through the kitchen window. “Have fun last night?” he asked quietly. His voice was soft, and not at all like Pop.

  “It wasn’t about fun,” I protest.

  He heaved out a breath. “I know.”

  “I just wanted to say a proper goodbye,” I rushed to explain. But he held up a hand.

  “I understand, Jake. Go to bed.”

  “You don’t want to give me some stupid chore?” I huffed.

  He shook his head. “No.”

  I crossed my arms. “Are you sure?”

  “Go to bed, Jake,” he said a little more strongly.

  “You can tell me my punishment later,” I bit out. Then I stormed to my room and slammed the door.

  Pop never did punish me. I kissed Katie goodbye in front of everyone that day, and she drove away with her hand pressed against the back glass of her parents’ car. I blinked back the pain, and then I started writing that first letter to her. I wrote her every day for the next month. Then it turned into one letter every few days, and hers to me began to slow down too.

  Life went back to normal, and the letters started to come about once a month. Then they stopped completely.

  47

  Katie

  When I spot Cole’s blond head circulating with the responding EMTs and police officers as if he is one of them, I realize it is up to me to take action now. This has gone on for far too long. Everything I love is at stake. Everyone I love is at stake. I have no choice and I know it.

  I need a gun.

  I know Jake’s gun cabinet is locked and I don’t have the combination. But I need to shoot the bastard so we can stop this madness. I need some peace. I need to be able to go on with my life.

  After the last time Cole showed up, Jake wanted my parents to be prepared, so he left his Colt .45 in a locked box under the bed. I know where the key is: on the shelf in the closet.

  I let myself into the cabin and go to the bedroom. I drop down to the floor to reach beneath the bed so I can grab the locked box. I swipe my hand under the bed, finding nothing but a bunch of dust bunnies, just as someone’s hands wrap around my feet and jerk me out.

  I scream and kick, and I hear a grunt as my foot connects with some soft tissue.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Jake whispers harshly at me. “Stop kicking!”

  I scuttle out from under the bed and stand up, brushing my hair from my eyes. “I’m trying to arm myself. Did you move the gun box from under the bed?”

  “Yes, I moved the gun box from under the bed! Alex found it and Adam caught him trying to pick the lock. And don’t walk away from me like that!” Jake hisses. “You scared the life out of me!”

  “Did they catch Cole?”

  “No.”

  “Is your dad okay?”

  “He’s too hard-headed to die,” Jake grunts out. He runs a frustrated hand through his hair.

  “What about Sally?”

  “Your parents took him and the kids to the vet’s office.” He pulls me against his chest and kiss me hard. “Don’t ever do that again.”

  “Take your hands off the mother of my child,” a deep voice says from the doorway.

  Jake freezes and slowly raises his hands in the air. He shields me with his body. “Cole,” he says, his voice controlled.

  Cole walks farther into the room. “How’s the baby?” he asks me. He talks around Jake, who is still between us.

  “He’s fine,” I say. I lean around Jake to look at him. “No thanks to you.”

  Cole chuckles. He raises the gun in his hand and points it directly at Jake. My heart beats a rapid pace. But my nerves are cool. Cold, even. Steady. I know what needs to happen.

  I lift Jake’s gun from the holster under his arm, step from behind Jake, and point it at Cole.

  Cole’s gun wavers ever so slightly and he backs up a step. “Put that down,” he says.

  “You first,” I reply tonelessly. I look down the sight. Steady. I can almost hear Jeff’s voice in my ear. Steady. You can do this, Katie.

  I know, I whisper back in my head.

  You’re strong.

  I am.

  Despite my cool resolve, tears sting my eyes. In my darkest hour, of course Jeff’s with me, at least in spirit. Thoughts of him give me strength.

  “There’s still time to stop this,” I tell Cole evenly.

  “Stop what?” he asks.

  “Stop this. Walk away.”

  He shakes his head. “Can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I love you.”

  “You don’t love me.”

  “Don’t tell me how I feel!” he shouts.

  “Shoot him, Katie,” Jake whispers. “Pull the trigger.”

  I can’t, though. Not with Jake halfway between Cole and me. Jake would take Cole’s bullet. I can’t risk that.

  Jake raises his hands a little higher in the air. “Put the gun down and we’ll all walk out of here,” he says softly.

  “All I ever wanted was to love you, Katie,” Cole says quietly. This is the quiet before the storm. I’ve seen it all before. This is how it starts. Then the anger comes.

  “This isn’t love,” I tell Cole. “You don’t pull guns on people you love.”

  His hand shakes. “You do if they won’t listen to you!” he shouts.

  Suddenly, Freddy calls out from the doorway. “Drop the weapon!”

  Cole spins to face Freddy and fires off a shot, just as Jake lunges at Cole, knocking him from his feet onto the floor. Jake punches him and Cole drops his gun. It skitters across the floor. The room fills with police, and they force Jake to step back.

  Freddy lies in the doorway.

  I rush over to him and drop to my knees. There’s a red stain growing on his shirt front. “Freddy! Speak to me!”

  “That hurts like a motherfucker,” Freddy says with a small laugh.

  Jake comes to kneel beside me. “Fred, you’re going to be all right.” The EMTs are already rolling a gurney into the room. “You hear me, Fred? You’re going to be just fine.”

  Freddy grunts as they shift him onto the gurney then straighten its legs. “Hey, Jake,” he says.

  “What, buddy?” Jake says, grabbing his hand as they rush him toward the ambulance.

  “I took a bullet for you,” Freddy says. And he grins.

  Jake smiles and wipes his face. “Yeah, you did.”

  “You know what this means?”

  “What?”

  “It means that you never get to hold it over my head again. The thing with me and Laura, you can’t hold it against me anymore.” Freddy grunts as the EMTs make Jake let go of his hand. “Did you hear me, Jake?” Freddy calls. “I took a bullet for you!”

  “I heard you!” Jake yells back. They’re already closing the doors of the ambulance, and they put Laura and the baby in a police car to follow. She’s too much of a mess to drive herself.

  “Is he going to be okay?” Jake asks the EMT.

  “Looked like it went straight through the shoulder, but we won’t know anything for sure until we get to the hospital.”

  Jake finally takes a deep breath.

  Cole struggles as they load him into the police car. He curses and calls out to me, pleading for help.

  “Katie!” Cole screams. He fights against the officer’s hold, and out of the corne
r of my eye, I see him break free.

  Time slows in my head as I watch Cole struggle with the officer. Cole grabs the handle of the officer’s gun and pulls it from the holster. He lifts it, pointing the barrel directly at me. His face contorts as he pulls the trigger. His shot goes wild and fury fills his eyes.

  Jake throws me to the ground and covers me with his body. I look up at Cole and watch as the first bullet, shot by a nearby officer, hits him. His body jerks. Then the second bullet slams into his chest. He falls back against the squad car and slowly sinks to the ground, his hands grasping to hold on to something. Anything.

  Cole says my name as a gurgle of blood rushes from his mouth.

  The officer who fired the fatal shots holsters his weapon and swears.

  Time speeds back up to normal as the officers converge on Cole’s fallen body.

  Jake rolls from on top of me. “Are you all right?” He runs his hands over my body, checking for injuries. Then he pulls me up to stand next to him.

  “I’m fine,” I rush to assure him. “I promise. Totally fine.”

  “Oh my God.” Jake runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “I saw him raise that gun and I thought it was over.” Jake pulls me against him. “I thought I’d lost you.”

  I watch as the EMTs work on Cole. But I already know he’s dead. And my name was the last word to cross his lips. A shiver crawls up my spine.

  “It is over. Finally.” I allow myself to take a deep breath.

  “Are you sure you’re all right” Jake whispers.

  No. I’m not all right. “It’s over,” I whisper back.

  He kisses my forehead and holds me close. “Yes, it’s over.”

  48

  Katie

  A month has passed since Cole was caught and killed, and while I still mourn the loss of his life as I would that of any human being, I am glad that I no longer have to look over my shoulder every minute of every day. My family is safe.