The Summer List, page 14
"You were right though. And here I thought you wanted someone to challenge you. Not the other way around.”
“You challenge me. Being here with you this close. It’s a challenge. Trust me.” I’m suddenly hyper-aware of how tense every muscle in his body is as he tries to keep himself in check against my own.
“I wish I wasn’t such a head case."
"You're not. Don’t think that about yourself. I have no idea what you're going through. I want to help you if I can. That is, if you even want help. Do you want to have your memories back?"
"I think so."
"How about this necklace?" He asks, tracing the chain with his finger leaving a trail of fire behind with his touch. He lifts the heart off of my neck and takes my ability to breathe with it. "Do you remember where this came from?"
"No." It's the only word I can get out. My lungs are fighting for air. I can't speak.
"Well, I don't know the whole story of how you got it, but it was your mother's necklace. You and Natalie would always play in her jewelry box, and this was your favorite piece. Do you remember any of that?" He asks, letting go of the necklace.
"Not really." Nate looks away in frustration. "It's not that easy. I don't think you can help me. Not like that. You can't just feed me memories and have them stick. It doesn't work like that."
"There has to be something I can do."
"This. Being here. Being my friend. That's what I need right now."
"Friends." He puts his palm against mine and intertwines our fingers. My lungs start fighting for air again.
"Friends," I repeat.
17
nate
Mackenzie knows my secret now too. I'm in love with her. I'm glad she knows. Even though she friend-zoned me, I know she feels the same. The other day in the hammock was something I'd never felt before. Her fingertips sent a current of electricity through my entire body. I think my heart stopped for a minute.
I will wait for her. Whatever she needs. Time. Space. Friendship. She has it. Mackenzie is worth it.
"You've been reading for five hours now. Aren't you bored yet?" I ask Mack as she flips another page in her book. She is sprawled out on my bed with a pillow tucked under her.
"I can't stop now. I'm at the halfway point. This is when the story picks up."
"Sounds like you already know the ending," I say from the other end of the bed.
"In a way, I do. Most books follow the same script."
"Then why bother reading? Seems like there is a better way to spend ten hours of your life."
"Because I don't know how they get from point A to point B yet. I know eventually, they will fall in love, but it's the little things that happen in between. I'm invested. Get off my case. How is your book?"
Mack rolls over to her side. Resting her head against her hand. I never thought I would be content sitting for hours reading, but this morning has been one of my favorites we've spent together.
"Great. I'm on chapter three." I spent more time watching Mack than reading.
She can’t sit still when she reads. Every three to five pages she would switch positions. Mack has barely taken a break except to get more snacks and go to the bathroom.
"Just wait. It will pick up soon, and then you won't be able to put it down."
"Not before I get something else to eat. Do you want something?"
"I'm good. If your mom is down there, will you ask her what time we need to be ready for our lesson?"
"Our lesson?"
"She's going to teach us how to make pasta. A new skill. It's on the list."
"Fun." I've forgotten about the list. I know it's important to her, but I don't care what we do as long as we are spending time together. I prefer doing something other than reading for hours. But if that keeps her in my room all day, I’ll do it.
"You look thrilled."
"An afternoon with my mom. What can I say? Not exactly my idea of a good time." Especially since that means you are leaving my room. My bed.
"It was her idea, so be nice about it."
"It was?"
"Yep." She replies with her eyes glued to the words on the page.
My mom is whirling around the kitchen, getting set up for our lesson. There are kitchen gadgets spread out all over the counter and table.
"We need all of this to make pasta?"
"Maybe. I think so."
"You think so?"
"It's been a while. I hope you don't mind I'm doing this."
"No. It's cool." I get water out of the fridge and lean against the counter. "Why are you?"
"To spend time with you. Mackenzie too, but mainly you. This is the first summer you've been around this much. Football practice will start before you know it, and you'll be gone again. I thought I would take advantage."
"I don't know if I'm going to do football next year."
"Oh really? I thought you loved football."
"I did. I mean, I do. I don't know what I want to do anymore." I play football for my dad. It was what he wanted me to do. I thought maybe if I did it, we would spend time together. It hasn't made a difference. He barely even makes my games anymore.
"You are thinking more about your future, I see."
"How do you know?"
"I know that look. Your father has the same one. You two are a lot alike."
"I wouldn't know. He's never around."
"Nathan, that's not fair. Your dad tries his best. He doesn't know any different. He takes care of us like his father took care of him." I hear what she is saying, but it falls short. He falls short. It's not enough for me. "So, what plans are you making in that head of yours?"
"It's too soon to make any big decisions. I'm waiting to see if something pans out first."
"It wouldn't have to do with Mackenzie, would it? I've always thought of her as a second daughter."
"Well, I've never thought of her as a sister."
"Oh, I know that. I think everyone knows that, Nathan," she says with a wink. "It's nice seeing you two together again. I think it's helping her."
"You do? I'm not so sure."
"I do. You're making a difference. Mackenzie is opening up in her own way. I think she is having quite the impact on you too. I'm not surprised. I'm assuming you like her."
I love her.
"Mom, no offense, but I don't want to talk about this with you."
"I understand. But if you do like her, be patient. You can only help her so much. At some point, she will need to take steps to help herself. Once she does, though, she will need you more than ever. She’s special Nathan." She says, wrapping her arm around me. I agree.
"What's this?" Mack asks when my mom hands her a book.
"The holy grail," I say.
"Oh really. That important, huh?" Mack asks.
"It's the family cookbook. Every recipe that's been passed down, shared, or created is in there." My mom tells her. "It's pretty important."
The book is worn and yellow on the edges. Inside the cover is an inscription.
Happy Mother's Day to the best mom and chef around!
Love - Nathan and Natalie
"I think I remember shopping for this. Didn't your dad take us?" I ask Mack.
"I...I don't remember."
"Right. Sorry." I wince at the mistake. I feel guilty for even mentioning her dad.
"He did." My mom chimes in. "Your mom has one too. We spent the next day together filling up the pages with each other's recipes. She treasured it. You should look for it. I bet it's in one of the boxes." I give my mom a look, and she mouths back, what?
"Maybe I will," Mack says.
"Seriously?" I reply. Looking through one of the boxes is the last thing I thought she would be willing to do right now.
"Maybe. I opened a box the other day. The day after, I stayed the night." And had the nightmares and slept in the same bed with you, she told me with her eyes. "That's where I found this necklace," she says, touching her neck.
"Well, it's a good start," my mom says. "Now, should we get started? Your father will be home soon and will want something more than raw flour and eggs for dinner." My mom hands each of us an apron.
"I'm ready," Mackenzie says, putting on her apron.
"I'm not wearing this," I say, holding mine.
"Alright, but it's going to get messy." My mom warns.
"It will look cute on you. You should put it on." Mackenzie whispers when my mom is in the pantry. "Here, I'll tie it for you." Her fingers tickle my back as she twists and ties the apron.
My mom comes out with her arms full of flour, salt, and olive oil. Then she gets the eggs out of the fridge. "Here is a placemat for each of you. You can stand where you are at the island. That will work just fine. Now, pasta is quite simple to make. It's just a few ingredients." She says, patting the flour and eggs. "The key is combining everything well to get the right texture and consistency. Nathan, you look confused already."
"No, I'm good," I say, smiling at Mackenzie.
"Okay. Step one." She pours two cups of flour onto our placemats. "Make a well in the middle of your flour. Now, crack your eggs in the hole you just created. You are going to slowly whisk the eggs and flour together with your fork."
Mackenzie picks up an egg and cracks it gently on the counter, then asks, "I just drop it in the flour?"
"Yep, right in the middle there. Perfect. Once y'all have the other two eggs, just whisk them with the fork and gradually pull the flour in to make the dough. Nathan don't just stand there watching Mackenzie. Make your well and get cracking."
"Yes, Ma'am." I attempt to crack my first egg, and it smashes in my hand. Mackenzie stifles a laugh. "This is funny, huh?"
"Just a little," she says, bumping me with her hip.
"Both of y'all can start kneading the dough. Once the dough comes together, form it into a ball and wrap it up. Then let it rest for a half-hour or so. I'm going to leave y'all to it. If you need me, I'll be in the living room."
"Thank you," Mackenzie says.
"Yeah, thanks, mom." She pats me on the shoulder and leaves the kitchen.
"So, do you maybe want to hang out later? Go see a movie or something?" Mackenzie asks while she punches her pasta dough.
"I would, but I can't. I already have plans." Mackenzie's face drops. "I could cancel."
"No, it's fine—some other time. I've already hogged up your whole day with list stuff anyways. You've put in your time."
I stop what I'm doing and turn towards her. "You know I would be here anyway, right?"
"Making pasta with your mom? I doubt it."
"Mackenzie, you know what I mean."
"I know." When she speaks, her eyes burn into me. "Ahem. We should finish this up," Mackenzie says and goes back to kneading her dough.
"How do you even use this thing?" I ask, looking at the pasta roller.
"No idea. Put the dough in there and then crank, I guess." Mackenzie grabs the first piece of dough we rolled flat and puts it into the machine. "You try cranking, and I'll catch it on the other side."
"I don't know about this," I say as the dough gets stuck in the machine and starts to fall apart on the other side.
"Maybe we need more flour. That might keep it from sticking." Mackenzie reaches over me and gets a handful of flour out of the jar. She drops it on the dough and all over me. "Sorry," she says, laughing.
"Oh, that's funny, huh? We'll see who's laughing in a minute." I grab a handful of flour out of the jar and aim it at her.
"Nate, don't you dare. Don't. I'm warning you. Think of your mo-" Too late. I toss the entire fist of flour in her face. She is coughing and spitting out clouds of powder. It's the funniest thing I've ever seen.
"Now, you really look like Casper." My laughter is cut short when a cloud of flour rains down on me. "Oh, that's it, Turner. It's on now."
I get more flour with one hand, and with my other, I pull her belt loop until she is close enough to wrap my arm around her. Mackenzie struggles but manages to grab more flour off the table. We both take turns dousing each other in between laughing fits.
"What is going on in here?" My mom shouts over our howling. Mackenzie and I both freeze. I'm still holding her, and she has a handful of flour she was about to slap me with.
I let Mackenzie go and say, "We had a little trouble with the pasta machine sticking."
"Yeah, so we thought a little flour would help," Mackenzie adds.
"Uh-huh." I can barely keep a straight face. Mackenzie is covered head to toe in white powder, hiding a smile behind her hand. I must look just as ridiculous. "I'll finish rolling the pasta. You two start cleaning up the mess."
"Yes, ma'am"
"Sure, mom," We say together and start laughing.
"And Mackenzie, it's nice to hear you laughing again without Natalie. It's been too long." Mackenzie tightened her mouth into a smile and got back to work.
"I like you laughing too. It's a good look for you."
"This is a good look for you," Mackenzie says, shaking some of the flour out of my hair. If my mom weren’t watching, I would have tried to kiss Mackenzie right now. Maybe my mom is right. Mackenzie is starting to open up. I just have to be patient.
Mackenzie and I sweep up the last of the flour when the doorbell rings.
"You two throw that away, and I'll grab the door," my mom says.
"Olivia," I say, surprised when she walks into the kitchen. "What are you doing here?" Mackenzie walks out of the pantry, and her whole demeanor changes. "I thought-"
"I think," Olivia says, cutting me off. "You better go shower so we can go out on our date." She continues looking at Mackenzie. She is doing this on purpose.
"It's not a date," I say to Olivia tensely.
"I should be going," Mackenzie says. "Tell your mom I said thank you for today. It was fun." I cut off her path to the door. "Please move," she says, standing against my chest. Her heart beating faster.
"It's not what you think. Olivia is just a friend." I say quietly enough only she can hear.
She looks up at me and says, "I’m just a friend too. Have fun on your date."
I move out of her way and let her go.
18
mackenzie
I thought about Nate all day at work. He texted me and explained that Connor was supposed to pick him up, but Olivia weaseled her way into the job. It honestly doesn't matter. It's my fault. I'm the one freezing him out. He can spend time with whoever he wants to, and so can I. We are just friends.
Nate is sitting in the cab of his truck, working on the dashboard when I get home from work. "Hi." I open the cab door and hop into the passenger seat of the truck. "Have you been here all day?"
"Most of it."
"What are you doing?" I ask, stuffing a chip in my mouth.
"Trying not to break this gauge."
"You put the photo of us in here," I say, noticing the photo on the dash.
"Yeah, I'll probably move it later."
"Don't. It belongs in here." Nate smiles in agreement.
"So, what are you doing? Besides getting crumbs in my truck."
"Nothing," I say, putting the chip I was holding back in the bag. "I just got home from work."
"How was that?" Nate asks while flipping through an instruction booklet.
"Interesting."
"How is it possible to have an interesting day at a bookstore?"
"Well..." I take a moment and eat another chip before continuing. "Do you remember Brandon?" He shakes his head no. "Funny story. He asked me to go to dinner. As friends."
"Wait. Brandon, the guy who goes to Becker Academy? That bookstore guy?"
"Yeah."
"What did you say?" He asks, looking at me. His face is streaked in grease, accentuating all of his features.
"I told him yes."
Nate slams the booklet down and stares at me. "You said yes? Why? If this is because of Olivia, I told you we are just friends."
"It has nothing to do with Olivia."
"You know, for someone who's never had a boyfriend. You've had a busy summer."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"First Troy. Now Brandon. I'm having a hard time keeping up over here." He has some nerve.
"Troy doesn't count. I didn't fall for him. I fell for you, remember." This is the first time I've admitted out loud I've fallen for Nate. I knew the night at the bluffs I wouldn't be able to walk away from him. Yet, something is still holding me back from giving in completely.
"Then why go out with this guy? What's the point?"
"I...I can't explain it. I don't think you would understand anyway." I turn away and stare out the window.
"Try me." Nate takes my hand and pulls me back towards him. His hands are rough and calloused but also warm and a perfect fit with mine.
"It would be easier to be with someone who doesn't know everything about me." Nate drops my hand.
"I'm sorry I'm making your life difficult," he says and gets out of the truck.
I step into the shower and let the hot water run wild over my body. It didn't take long for the tears to flow too. Not because of Nate and what he said.
For the first time in years, I want my mom to be here. I scrape at the back of my mind and dig until I can see her face. It’s a fight to form her features. I start with her eyes. My eyes. Then her nose and cheeks. They have a splatter of freckles just like me.
I keep clawing until her mouth appears. She is shushing me. Consoling me. I bury my face in her hair and breathe in the sweet smell of lilies and lavender.
I need her here.
I need to hear her say it will be okay.
I need to feel her arms around me.
I need her to help me decipher my heart.
She would know what I should do.
She would know why I’m fighting against myself.
She would know why I’m running.
Nate has no idea what it's like to be me. He thinks it's easy to open up and put all your feelings out there. Like someone can’t come by at any moment and rip them to shreds.
