Rumors (A Lingering Echoes Prequel)

by Erica Kiefer

  “Can we rent a boat tomorrow?” Leah asked. She sat in the front seat next to Dad, her smile big and hopeful. After basketball, wakeboarding was the next best thing, and we were all eager to get back in the lake.

  Dad nodded. “Absolutely! I can’t wait to see the three of you out there again.” The drive up the canyon—with evergreen trees stretching towards the clouds like skyscrapers—seemed particularly long that day, though it was only two hours from Dad’s home in Danville. Every other year, Dad’s side of the family met up at our cabin in Hidden Pines, located in the heart of the Sierra Nevadas in California. Dad’s sister and her small family were already up there.

  I jumped out of our suburban, arms open wide to receive the bullet of blond hair careening into my arms.

  “Allie!” my nine-year-old cousin squealed, matching the eager grin on my face. She hurried to spread her hugs to Dad, Leah, and Taylor, but like a loyal pup, she returned to my side. “What took you guys so long? Come on, come on!” She tugged me along, barely pausing for me to sling the duffel bag over my shoulder.

  Maddie announced our arrival to the open living room. I waved at Uncle Bill, who was reclined in the large, brown sectional watching sports on the flat screen. He hollered a friendly “Hello,” accompanied with the wide smile that pushed out his double chin. Maddie plopped down beside him, leaning in and jabbering away. I was pretty sure by the look on Uncle Bill’s face that her topic of conversation had nothing to do with sports—but he smiled and knuckled Maddie’s head affectionately.

  “Allie! Hi, dear!” Aunt Heidi peeked from around the corner of the kitchen. She wrapped her arms around me with a tight squeeze.

  “Smells delicious, Aunt Heidi,” I said, eying whatever was baking in the oven.

  “You always have the best food!” Leah agreed, practically jumping up and down. One of the downsides of my parent’s divorce was not living close to Aunt Heidi anymore. She often stopped by to drop off meals and treats that she’d been experimenting with. Mom could have used a lesson or two… or twenty. But we weren’t about to say anything to her face about that. Taylor grabbed a homemade roll and sighed in satisfaction.

  We spent most of Saturday on the lake, either wakeboarding or tubing. Maddie, who wasn’t quite ready for wakeboarding, joined me on the tube.

  “Ok, Uncle James,” she said seriously to Dad, “I don’t want you to take it easy on me. I can handle it.” She flexed her fingers and readied her grip on the tube handles with resolution.

  Dad hid a smile behind one hand, exchanging a humored glance with Uncle Bill. “Oh, I know you can handle it, Miss Maddie,” Dad said. He exaggerated a whisper, pretending like I couldn’t hear him. “It’s Allie I’m worried about. I’m not sure she can hold on as long as you can.”

  I laughed with a shrug, playing along. “I’ll do what I can.”

  “Allie can do anything,” Maddie defended. “Come on, we’re ready.” She gave a nod, slightly shifting her position on her stomach. The tube swayed calmly in the water. I tightened my grip.

  “Let’s do it!” I exchanged a readied grin with Maddie, her eyes lighting up with anticipation. She loved a challenge, and Dad respected her zealous nature enough to give it to her. He jumped behind the wheel and the boat gradually pulled away, tightening the slack in the rope. As the boat gathered speed, we bumped along playfully. Maddie laughed into the wind, letting her hair fly crazily behind her. After a few minutes cruising easily on the water, Dad maneuvered the boat so that the tube slid across the wake, jolting our smooth ride.

  I gritted my teeth to prevent biting my tongue. The boat picked up speed. Hitting turbulent water, we skidded across the water like skipping stones. My body swayed along the edge of the tube, threatening to knock me off. “You ok?” I yelled to Maddie, eventually noticing her playfulness replaced with intense concentration. Her arms trembled beneath her life vest, but she didn’t answer. I knew she would never want to admit defeat by signaling for Dad to stop.

  I grunted as we hit the wake again. Dad was holding true to his promise of a challenge. I could see her strength wavering. In an effort to save Maddie’s pride, I released my grip. The tube whipped out from under me, and I plummeted into the water with a painful smack. I popped back up, shaking water from my face, and watched the boat turn around to pick me up. When Dad slowed to a stop, he made a few playful jabs at my tubing skills, though his expression suggested he understood the intention behind my fall. He gave an approving nod.

  My relationship with Dad always seemed easier when water was involved. I felt more natural around him at the lake than during our limited visits to Danville. Visiting him in our hometown only reminded me that we’d had to leave it behind because of his mistakes. That was another reason I loved Hidden Pines. The lodge was something of a safe haven—a collection of our best family vacations.

  I clambered back onto the tube, rather ungracefully, in my waterlogged life jacket. “Not bad, sista!” Maddie accepted my high five, her blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight.

  “Thanks, Allie,” she whispered. I nudged her shoulder with mine.

  “Anytime, Maddie. You know I got your back.”