The Summer List, page 12
I'm still avoiding the mountain of boxes in the living room. This morning Nate told me to open them. He thinks I should just do it without thinking about it.
I can’t. It’s pandora's box. I don't know what's in them. And even more concerning, I don't know how it will all make me feel.
I’m not ready to feel any of it right now.
Right now, ignoring the inevitable and staying outside seems like the better option. The heat is close to unbearable at times, but it's nothing a cheap box fan can't fix.
The view makes it all worth it. I figured out if I angle myself just right, I can almost see to the back of the garage. I’m not spying on Nate. I’m making sure he doesn’t do anything to mess up my garage. Technically I’m protecting my property.
I lift my book to where my eyes skim over the top as Nate comes into my peripheral view. He is fiddling around with the exhaust. I assume he wants to remove it. I have no idea. I don’t care. I can’t see past his forearms. They flex and strain as he cranks the wrench around. It is hypnotizing.
Crank. Twist. Grunt. Pull.
Crank. Twist. Grunt. Pull.
My mouth has gone dry, and I’m desperate for some water.
He eventually gives up and disappears to the recess of the garage just beyond my view. I drop my book on the table, disappointed the show is over. I need to go inside and quench this thirst. If I don’t, then I will go into the garage and talk to him. I promised myself I wouldn’t.
I gave him so much shit about hovering over me. I’ll be damned if I’m going to do it to him. He’s not here for me anyways. He’s here because his truck is here. It’s all part of the agreement. I chant to myself.
I chew on my thumbnail as I stare at the garage door. My mind is daring my body to open it and see what’s happening on the other side.
The garage door flies open and startles me out of my thoughts.
“Ahhh!” I scream like a clown just popped out of the garage or something. I hate clowns.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. It looks like we had the same idea." Nate says, getting a drink out of the fridge.
"How's it going out there?"
"Could be better. The exhaust is giving me some trouble."
"Oh really?" I try to act surprised.
"Yeah, it's fine. I'll figure it out." Nate moves around the kitchen until he is within arms reach. "I was thinking. If you aren't busy, we could do something. On the list, I mean."
"Right. I don't have any plans. What do you have in mind?"
"How do you feel about starting a flower garden?"
"Here?"
"Why not? We can make a small one in the side yard. It would look nice." Nate is oddly enthusiastic about this idea, but then I remember he does landscaping for a living.
"Okay. I'm in. Should we go shopping?"
"No. I have everything back at the house. Give me twenty minutes, and I'll be back."
Nate left with a smile and a little bounce to his step. I feel lighter inside too. I do a little spin in the kitchen.
I don’t understand what is happening between us, but there has been a shift since the lake and the truth behind the texts. I should say the semi-truth because I still don’t know what he was saying for himself or because he thought I would like Troy to say that to me.
Either way, I feel like we are walking into new territory.
I’m terrified.
It didn't take long for us to unload the truck. Nate hauled the bags of soil like they were feathers. He also brought a variety of flowers with him, most of which I didn't recognize. I thought one was lavender, but Nate corrected me after he was done laughing.
"How do you know all of this?" I ask, impressed. "Let me guess. The internet."
"Not this time," he says with a smile. "It comes with the job. Knowing more means more money."
"Wish it worked that way at the bookstore."
"They wouldn't be able to afford you."
"Funny."
This side of the yard has been empty for as long as I can remember, which isn't saying much. It was probably a garden years ago, but now it's just dirt outlined with stone.
Nate adds more soil and starts to lay out the flowers. "What do you think?" He asks, arranging another flower pot.
"Looks fine to me. I don't know the point of doing all of this here."
"Why? Didn't you put ‘start a garden’ on the list?"
"I did, but I was thinking of helping someone else start a garden. Not do anything here. There isn't a point to it," I say and then smell one of the flowers.
"You won't enjoy them?"
"If I can keep them alive, I will enjoy them for a while. I don't plan on being around for long." Nate froze. "Don't act surprised. There's not much for me here."
"Nat would take offense to that." And you? Would you be upset if I left too?
"Nat won't be here either. She will be off at college or art school. She will be starting a new life without me. I won't stay here longer than I have to." If it didn't cause problems for Cindy, I wouldn't be here now. "Two more years, and I'm leaving."
"Where do you want to go?"
"Anywhere but here."
"That's harsh. Cindy is here and your parents." It might be harsh, but it's true. Once I'm eighteen, there isn't any reason for me to stay. If Cindy doesn't want to make it work, then neither do I.
"I don't think they'll mind." I’m half-joking.
I don’t think Cindy would mind one bit. My parents? I don’t know how the other side works enough to know how they would feel or if they can feel. Either way, I don't think he finds it very funny.
"I have no idea what I would do anyway. I just know there isn't much for me here. Were you being you when you said you didn’t have any plans?" I ask, trying to get the heat off of me.
"Yes," he says curtly. "But I don’t plan on leaving. I just don’t know what I’ll be doing yet.”
“Well, you have family here. I don’t. Not really.”
“Nat isn’t the only person in my house who will miss you if you leave.”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t miss anyone.” Nate’s arm tensed at my words. “I just don’t have family here.”
“Let’s just get this done.”
I take a small shovel and dig a hole to make room for one of the flowers. Nate does the same, working silently beside me.
"Did I say something to piss you off?”
"No. You didn't," he says, focusing on the flower he is planting. "Do you know why I brought these flowers to plant?" His voice softens some, but he’s still cold.
"They were on sale?" I ask, shrugging my shoulders.
"No. Well, some of the flowers were leftover from a job. But these," he says, holding up a few lilies. "These were your mom's favorite." Once again, Nate knows more about my family than I do.
"How do you know this?"
"Your dad would always pick some up after our fishing trips. She even had a few in her wedding bouquet, he told me once."
Is this why I was so drawn to the puzzle at the store? It explains Cindy's reaction when she saw the picture too.
"Thank you. Really." I wish this gesture meant as much to me as it does to him. I think he hoped that it would have made me cry thinking of my mother, but they’re just flowers to me.
"It was nothing."
I stand up and look at our work. It is beautiful with all the different textures and colors of the flowers.
"You're really good at this, you know. I just hope I can keep them alive."
"Water them, and they'll be fine."
"I should be able to handle that."
"Don't worry. I’ll help you." Nate picks up his gardening tools and brings them back to his truck. I trail behind him with the trash and take it to the garage to throw away.
Nate is leaning against his truck when I came back outside. His t-shirt is sweaty and filthy. The sleeves have been cut off to expose his muscular frame and fend off the farmer's tan.
I'm surprised to see him here still. I expected him to leave without a word. Just when I thought we were moving somewhere else, I say something to screw it up.
"Well, thanks again," I say as I walk closer to him.
"Just keeping up my end of the deal," he says leaving a sour taste on my tongue.
"Right. Don't let me hold you up. I'm sure you have plans with your friends." I turn towards the porch.
"I do." Nate opens the driver's side door. I'm about to walk up the porch steps when he says. "My mom wanted me to invite you to dinner. I know you think there isn't anyone here for you, but people will miss you. She misses you now and would like to see you."
I haven't been over to their house for dinner since Natalie left. I've been worried it would be awkward without her there, especially after everything that happened with Troy and Nate. I needed some space.
"Tell her I'll be there." Nate nods and gets into the driver's seat. He is gone before I reach my back door.
14
nate
I couldn't stay focused at Birdie's tonight. The guys were carrying on like usual, but my mind was back at home with Mackenzie. She got to my house just as I was leaving. I could barely look at her.
And now. Now I can't stop thinking about her.
She wants to bail. That’s what she does now. She runs. She ignores anything that could make her feel something. How can she believe there is nothing left for her here? That she doesn’t have family here.
I scan the faces surrounding me in the booth. These guys, as self-centered, egotistical, and selfish as they can sometimes be, they are my family. My brothers.
Family isn’t something you are born into. It’s what you create.
Mackenzie has a family with mine. With me.
Troy catches my stare and nods. His eye is still painted purple. I don’t deserve his friendship. I don’t think I would have been so quick to forgive him if it was the other way around. He knew why I did it, and if it were him, he would have done the same thing. He didn’t say as much, but his face said it all.
I bailed as soon as Olivia showed up. I didn’t have the patience to deal with her. Mackenzie had me on edge. I feel like I’m constantly walking the line with her.
The house is quiet when I came in. There is a puzzle near completion on the table and dirty dishes still in the sink in the kitchen. Remnants of family night. A family that includes Mackenzie, I remind myself. The girl who claims she doesn’t have one here. I get something to drink and go up to my room.
Out of habit, I turn to Natalie's room; the light is on. I look inside, but no one is there. My mom must have left the lamp on. I turn it off and go back to my room, but I'm cut off by Mackenzie coming out of the bathroom.
"Hi," she says breathlessly.
"Hi," I repeat, getting lost in her green eyes. My favorite color of green. She is wearing one of Nat's t-shirts and pajama bottoms. "What are you doing here?"
"I was here late, and your mom insisted I stay the night. I tried to refuse, but she wouldn't take no for an answer." I can't remember the last time Mack stayed the night with Natalie. "I hope it won't be weird."
"I don’t see why it would be weird. It's no different than it was before Nat left." Except everything is different. In just a few days, she has managed to change everything.
"Good. I was worried I upset you earlier today." I try to hide the disappointment on my face. She isn’t bothered that I will be sleeping across the hall. The good-looking brother. Temptation.
No. She’s worried I’m mad.
"No. It’s fine. I had other things on my mind earlier.” Lies. All lies.
"Good. Well, I better get to bed. It's late, and I have to work tomorrow." I sidestep out of the doorway and let her slip by. I stood there while she turned the lamp back on. I don't know why, but I don't want to leave her. Mackenzie walks back to the door and gently shuts it.
"Goodnight," I whisper and go to my room.
I take my shirt off and throw it near the hamper. I'm too tired to care. I throw myself on the bed and bury my face in the pillows. My body is exhausted, but my mind is racing.
I only have five more weeks to bring Mackenzie around. Around to what I don’t know. I started wanting to help an old friend.
Now? I selfishly want to help myself.
Fail or succeed with her memories; I can’t give her up.
I’ve reached the point of no return.
Manic screams echo down the hallway. I wipe my eyes and try to wake myself up. I'm not sure if I was just hearing things until she screams again. I race across the hall to Mackenzie. She is tossing and turning in a slow panic. Her hair is matted with sweat. Between each ragged breath, she lets out unintelligible words and screams.
I step closer, but I'm careful not to startle her. I try giving her a gentle squeeze on the shoulder to see if that will stir her awake. It doesn't work.
"Mackenzie," I say softly while shaking her gently. I lay down and cradle her against me. "Mackenzie. Mack." I whisper in her ear. Her body tucked into mine.
Mackenzie's eyes dart open, panic escapes her, and she begins to relax. I loosen my grip on her, but she holds my gaze. She pulls the covers a little tighter as I push her hair out of her face.
"Are you okay?" I ask.
"Yeah.” She sucks on her bottom lip. She’s lying, but I don’t push her. “Bad dream."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"It was nothing. I'm sorry I woke you up," she says with her cheeks flushed. "Do you think I woke your parents too?"
"Not a chance you were louder than my dad's snoring." I was able to get a little smile out of her. "If you're sure you're good, then I'll let you get back to sleep."
I start to move away, her body heat indicating how close she still is against my bare chest. I didn't get far before she grabs my wrist to stop me.
"Don't go." She hesitates a moment before adding, "Please."
I nod and slide down into the bed staring at the ceiling. Mackenzie turns toward the wall and squirms under the covers until she is comfortable again. It takes all my self-control not to move in closer and wrap my arm around her again. Instead, I keep my distance and watch her sleep.
15
mackenzie
Nate was already gone by the time I woke up. Probably for the best. I can't imagine having to face him with morning breath and bed head. Not a good look when you are trying to explain a painful secret. I don't know how to describe the nightmares anyway. I don't even know if they are nightmares. They are more like dreams I don't understand, and that's what frightens me.
He did surprise me. He was so comforting. Nate isn't who I thought he was. At school, he is the popular jock every girl wants to date. He comes across as self-centered and arrogant. When he agreed to our deal, I was worried about that. I was afraid he changed so much over the years that being around him would be impossible.
I see now that it wasn't him that changed. It was me. I am the one who is different. And now Nate probably feels like he needs to treat me with kid gloves. Like I'm a fragile antique that can break at any moment. One wrong word, and I'll shatter. Doesn't he see I'm already broken? I'm damaged goods.
Last night was a mistake. I shouldn't have asked him to stay. The lake was a mistake. I’m letting my guard down. I need to keep the walls up for him. If I let him in, he will drown along with me. He deserves better than that. He deserves better than me.
The boxes in the living room are staring back at me. I move closer to them and search the labels. I'm shocked Cindy was able to put in this much effort. The writing is sloppy and slurred, but it's legible.
I stop when I see a box with my name written on top of the Jim Beam logo. I didn't know she packed up my stuff too. Why would she? I can open this one. I tell myself. Everything inside here is mine. If I want to be better, I have to start somewhere.
I bring the box to the kitchen and slice it open with a steak knife from the drawer. The smell of stale bubble gum floods the room. A few stuffed animals line the top. I scrutinize them, but they do not trigger anything.
Digging in further, I find cheap toys I probably got from cashing in tickets at an arcade. There are random hair barrettes and headbands, pencils, old birthday cards from Cindy, and a pack of rock-hard bubble gum. All of it is trash. She must have taken a drawer in my nightstand and dumped it in here.
I keep sorting through the garbage until I see a few photos stuck to the bottom of the box. There is one with Natalie and me. We are wearing party hats and holding on to each other for dear life. The next one is me, Natalie, and Nate. It was from the same birthday party. The three of us were bunched together and making silly faces.
The last photo in the box is just Nate and me. We are in one of our bedrooms. I'm guessing mine since the bedding looks like something I would have. The two of us are sitting on the floor against the bed, and I'm reading a book to him.
I bring the photo closer to look at the pictures in the book. Where the Wild Things Are. Nate’s favorite book. He isn’t looking at the book, though. His eyes are glued on me with fascination.
As I dump the rest of the junk from the box in the trash, a necklace chain gets stuck inside the box. The chain is hanging on one of the inside flaps. I untangle it and take a closer look. It is a single diamond inside of a heart. I don't remember ever wearing it, but I think I did. All the time. I think this was something very special to me.
"Have you ever been in love?" I ask George. He is sitting on his stool by the register, waiting for a customer. Any customer.
"Love? Yes, a great one."
"How did you know..." I lean against the counter. "... you were in love?"
George stares me down. "It's different for everyone. There isn't a right answer to love. You know when-"
"Please don't say you know when you know." George laughs.
"I won't. I was going to say, you know when they are your everything.”
Your everything.
“They are the first person you want to run to when something happens. Good or bad."
"That sounds like a best friend. Not someone you are in love with."
