He ran back to his table and sat down.
Jack was not a social man.
Coming from an old family of dynamic Richmond southerners, he should have been. He had three older brothers—a lawyer, a television news anchor, and a horse breeder. He’d grown up overwhelmed by the noise of their booming voices. Sometimes, all Jack had wanted to do was cover his ears. He would slink around, looking for quiet corners. His parents had simply shaken their heads, figuring three confident sons were enough. Oh, he knew his parents had loved him fiercely, and even his brothers had had their share of bruises from defending him from kids who had made fun of him at school. But they hadn’t expected much of him. He hadn’t known what to expect of himself. He’d been an exceptional student, but when the time came for him to leave for college, he’d been paralyzed with indecision. He’d had no idea what to do with his life. He’d expressed this fear to his mother, who had kissed him on the cheek in his dorm room the first day of his freshman year and had said with a laugh, “Since you don’t like looking people in the eye, why not focus on their feet?”
So he became a podiatrist.
It was the honest truth, but he found that when he told people that story, most laughed. It was his go-to joke when he absolutely had to attend a party or function.
He first came to Lost Lake when an older doctor at his practice in Richmond asked him to join him and his wife on their summer vacation. He had obviously felt sorry for Jack, who had alienated the nurses and staff in those early years because he’d been so bad at personal interaction. He’d gotten better, but it had taken years. The old doctor soon retired and moved away, but every summer Jack kept coming back to Lost Lake. He liked the quiet here. He liked how removed it was. He liked that, after a while, the summer regulars got to know him and didn’t judge him for his shy nature and the way his eyes could never quite meet theirs. Most of all, he liked the quiet woman in the kitchen.
He had never known how silent a person could be. Lisette’s presence was a comfort, and he spent most of his time in the dining room, near the kitchen door, near her. Sometimes when she cooked, she would bring him out little samples of summer borscht or smoked salmon tea sandwiches. She would set the food on the table in front of him, smile, then go back to the kitchen. One time she even reached out and touched his hair, but that seemed to shock her, and she never did it again.
Being around her was unlike anything he’d ever known. Wherever he went, everyone talked. Even at the ballet—where he went specifically to have the comfort of people around but not have to hear them—there were still words, buzzing around in whispers. Lisette not only didn’t talk, she barely even made noise when she moved. Sometimes he wished the whole world was like Lisette. But it wasn’t. That was something his mother always made sure he knew. The world was not like him and was not going to change for him. The trick to getting through life, she’d told him, is not to resent it when it isn’t exactly how you think it should be.
When Eby had called him to cancel his reservation, to tell him she was selling Lost Lake, she had said to him, “But Lisette is still here and will be for the summer, in case there’s something you want to tell her.”
It didn’t hit him at first. He’d been too focused on how his plans for the summer had changed. What was he going to do now? Where was he going to go? But that night he’d woken from a dream about a girl on a bridge, and realized it had been Lisette on that bridge, and if she jumped, he would never see her again. He’d always known where to find her, but after this summer, he wouldn’t. Eby wanted him to tell Lisette something. He didn’t know what that was. Was it something that would make her stay? He hated being unprepared for anything, but he still packed and left the next day.
That morning, his first morning at the lake, he’d woken up and gone for a jog, as he’d always done. When he’d seen the light flick on in the dining room, he’d gone inside. He’d sat by the kitchen door, waiting for Lisette to come out. When she hadn’t—which was odd because she always seemed to sense his presence—he’d gone back to his cabin to shower and change. When he’d come back, breakfast had been set out for the guests, but still no Lisette.
Eby had asked him last night to take Lisette into town for groceries today, and he’d happily agreed. He was curious what it would be like to shop with her. Would it be like walking around in a pocket of quiet while the rest of the noisy world bounced off of them? He was sure he would enjoy that. When he had asked Eby that morning when Lisette would be ready to go, Eby didn’t know. Eby had left, saying she had inventory to do in the cabins, so Jack had sat there in the dining room the better part of the morning, at attention, waiting.
He heard the front door open, and the young woman he’d seen outside came in with a tray of empty dishes. She smiled at him as she walked to the kitchen. She had wide interesting features and a quiet way of walking that Jack appreciated. She tapped on the kitchen door, then tried to push it open. But it was locked.
Jack thought that was strange. Lisette never locked the kitchen door. Was she all right?
“Lisette, it’s me, Kate. I’m on my way out. I brought back the dishes from breakfast,” the woman called. While she waited for Lisette to come to the door, the woman turned to him. “You must be Jack. I’m Kate, Eby’s great-niece.”
He nodded, his eyes down. “Nice to meet you.”
At that moment, a note was pushed under the door from the kitchen.
Kate looked at it, surprised. It was just touching her toes. She balanced the tray in one hand and bent to pick up the note with the other. She read it, then said, “Hmm.”
Jack wanted to ask her what the note said, but he didn’t.
Kate walked over to the buffet table and set the tray down, then she set the note beside it.
“It was nice to meet you too, Jack,” she said as she walked back out.
When the front door closed, Jack stood and went to the buffet table. The note, in Lisette’s pretty, spidery handwriting said, Please leave the things on the table. I will get them later.
She was obviously busy in there. He didn’t want to bother her. But maybe she didn’t know he was here. Maybe she had been waiting for him to knock on the door and call to her, like Kate had done. It was such a natural thing to do for most people.
Jack walked to the door and tapped on it. “Lisette? It’s me, Jack. Jack Humphry. I got in last night. Eby told me you needed someone to take you to the grocery store. I just wanted you to know that I’ll be out here, whenever you’re ready.”
After a moment, another note appeared from under the door: I already asked Kate to get the things I need. You do not need to wait. I am sorry Eby has wasted your time.
“I don’t mind. I’ll just read the paper. I’ll be right here, by the door.”
He knew she was still standing there, on the other side of the door. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost see her form in the grain of the wood. Several seconds passed and he waited for another note from her. Nothing. He thought he should probably move away, but he couldn’t bring himself to.
Suddenly, he heard the latch pull back, and he stepped away as the door flew open.
Lisette sighed and took the note he was still holding and gestured him inside impatiently. She poked her head out into the dining room to see if anyone else was there, then she made a beeline to the buffet table and took the tray and Kate’s note into the kitchen. Setting them down on the counter, she then turned and locked the door again.
She wrote him another note: You can stay in here with me. But you must not let Eby know. You must be quiet.
“Of course,” he said. “I’d like that very much. I’d like to watch you work.” He turned to the only chair in the kitchen, but she grabbed his arm and shook her head, then held up a single finger, telling him to wait.
She disappeared down the hall and came back pulling an old squeaky office chair. She set it by the wall on the opposite side of the kitchen and pointed to it. He obediently sat.
She stood
there for a moment, looking from the empty chair by the refrigerator, to him, then back again. She finally threw her hands in the air in frustration, as if she’d just had her own silent argument with someone and lost.
She took the notes she’d just written to the stove, then she burned them one by one.
He watched in amazement as her words went up in smoke.
Where else in the world could such a creature exist? Suddenly, Jack was no longer worried about where he would go when Lost Lake was gone. He was worried about where Lisette would go. Jack had learned to live among people out in that strange noisy world.
But somehow he knew Lisette could only live here.
* * *
“Come on, Devin, let’s go!” Kate called when she walked out of the house.
So that is the man in love with Lisette, Kate thought. Jack didn’t say much, and Lisette didn’t say anything at all. This might be interesting to watch, if Kate and Devin were staying longer. Jack seemed kind. He was craggy and athletic, with lines like parentheses around his mouth, as if everything he wanted to say was an afterthought.
“Where are you girls going?” Bulahdeen asked, looking up from her list as Devin ran to the car.
“To the grocery store for Lisette.”
“Mind if I come along?” Bulahdeen asked. “I need to get some things for the party.”
“We don’t mind at all.”
Bulahdeen put her notebook in her purse, then stood stiffly. “Selma, we’re going to the store. I need to get more wine.”
Selma was filing her nails at the next table. “Why do you need so much wine? Doesn’t alcohol interfere with your medication?”
“I don’t take any medication.”
“That explains a lot,” Selma said, blowing emery-board dust off her fingertips.
“Come with us,” Bulahdeen said, shuffling over to her. “It’s for the party.”
“The party I’m not attending?”
“Didn’t you say you forgot to pack your hand lotion? Now’s your chance to get some.”
“Unlike you, I have my own car. I can go get lotion any time. And maybe I don’t even need it.” Selma held her hands up, inspecting them. “This wet air is good for my skin.”
Bulahdeen shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Selma watched Bulahdeen walk to the car. As soon as Kate helped the old woman into the front seat, Selma sighed and stood. “Why do I let you talk me into these things?” she asked, as if more arm pulling had been involved. Selma walked over. “Don’t I even get the front seat?”
“No,” Bulahdeen said, closing the front door.
Selma opened the back door and looked in at Devin, who was now in the backseat. “Scoot over … girl. Let’s not wrinkle my dress.”
“I like what you’re wearing.”
“Thank you. And that’s … quite an ensemble you have on,” Selma said.
“Thank you,” Devin responded, quite proud of her ballet clothes, to which she’d added her cowboy boots and her bright pink bicycle helmet with the Pheris Wheels logo on it, which Matt had given her last year, shortly before he’d died. Devin wasn’t a bike-riding kind of kid—she said the world went by too fast to see it when she was on a bike—but she had always enjoyed being with her father. Matt hadn’t understood that. He’d been coming around in some small way when he’d given her the helmet, because he’d given it to her just to wear, just because he knew she liked it. But there hadn’t been time enough for him to fully get it.
Kate smiled at her daughter in the rearview mirror.
“Seat belts on?” Kate called to her motley crew. “Okay, let’s go.”
* * *
After passing several neighborhoods of coastal-colored clapboard houses, Kate slowed as she approached the traffic circle in the middle of town. She didn’t remember going into town the last time she was here, so it took her by surprise. The center of Suley was marked by a narrow silo, old and rusted, towering above the shops on the circle. It looked so completely out of place that she simply had to stare. The sign on the small park surrounding the silo said: SULEY GRANARY, BUILT IN 1801. Next to it was another sign that said: MEET SUE, THE OFFICIAL TOWN COW, EVERY SATURDAY FROM 9–1.
She found the Fresh Mart on the circle and parked in front of it. They all got out and walked into the store. It was a touristy market with a deli and a café and wooden floors that creaked. The whole place smelled like waffle cones. Bulahdeen went straight to the wine shelves. Selma floated around the produce section, acting bored, picking up a green bell pepper, then putting it down with a sigh. Kate and Devin went to the business counter and waited for the young woman with the blond ponytail to get off the phone.
“Why don’t you go help Bulahdeen,” Kate said to Devin. “Don’t let her drop anything.”
A few minutes later, the young woman finally got off the phone. “Sorry about that,” she said.
“No problem.” Kate handed her the envelope from Lisette.
The girl read the note inside, then looked up at Kate. “Are you staying out at the lake?”
“Yes. I came to see Eby. She’s my great-aunt.”
The girl reached up and pulled her ponytail tighter. She couldn’t be more than twenty-one. “I don’t think I’ve ever met any of Eby’s family.”
“It’s been fifteen years since I was last here.”
“Oh. Well, I’ll box up the things on Lisette’s list. It’ll just take a minute,” the girl said. “Lisette special-orders some strange foods from France, but she’s a good customer. Not like some of the guests at Lost Lake. There’s this one old woman who vacations there every summer. When she comes in here, she’s so hateful to all the women, but the men fawn over her. My dad makes a fool of himself. I don’t know what he sees in her. She has this hideous red hair.”
“Do you mean Selma?” Kate nodded to Selma, who was now laughing at something the man stocking Bosc pears was saying.
The girl made a face. “That’s her.”
“She drove in with us.”
“My condolences. Now the little old lady, I like. She always buys wine, and when the checkout girls ask for her birth date for the register, she always makes things up. October twelfth, 1492. July fourth, 1776.” They both watched as Bulahdeen took her place in line at the checkout. She was carrying so many bottles that she had to lean back. Devin was hovering close behind her, as if to catch her if she fell. “I can’t believe she’s buying more wine. She was just in here yesterday.”
Kate smiled and turned back to the girl. “She’s throwing a farewell party for Eby.”
“So it’s true?” The girl asked. “Eby is selling Lost Lake? Yesterday, Bulahdeen said Eby was selling, but, you know, it’s Bulahdeen. I didn’t know if it was true or not.”
“It’s true. At least, that’s what Eby says.”
“That makes me sad. I haven’t seen Eby in a while, but she was always nice to me. When I was in high school, she let me bring my boyfriends out to the lake, and we’d borrow one of her rowboats because she always said the middle of a lake was the best place to fall in love.” The girl absentmindedly began to pick at the clumps of thick mascara sticking to her lashes. “When is the party?”
“Saturday afternoon, I think.”
The girl nodded, then turned and grabbed a cardboard box from the stack behind her and went to get Lisette’s special-order groceries from the back.
“I think I may have inadvertently invited the girl at the front desk to the party,” Kate said, joining Bulahdeen and Devin in line. She took a few bottles from Bulahdeen’s load.
“Oh, that’s all right,” Bulahdeen said. “The more the merrier.”
“The more the merrier? What do you mean?” Selma asked, walking over to them. The four of them together drew some attention. They didn’t look like your average tourists: an older woman in a tight red dress and heels; an elderly woman with her arms full of wine bottles; a toe-headed girl in glasses, a tutu, and a bike helmet; and Kate. All before noon.
“The owner’s daughter. Brittany. She’s coming to the farewell party,” Bulahdeen said.
“That girl hates me,” Selma said.
“She might not if you stopped flirting with her daddy. You’re not coming anyway. What’s it to you?”
Selma shook her head and walked away. “It’s nothing to me.”
6
Minutes later, from the shop across the street, Wes Patterson watched a tall young woman walk out of the Fresh Mart. Her brown hair was a mass of short layers that, as she walked, fell loosely into her eyes. She pushed it away with her fingers, stopping to look around the circle as she did so. For a moment, staring into the distance, her hand holding her hair back, she had that look people often have on the beach, looking out into the expanse of the ocean. Like she couldn’t believe there was just so much in front of her. She seemed a little lost. But she smiled and turned when the bag boy from the Fresh Mart said something to her. She opened the hatchback of a green Subaru, and the bag boy placed a large box of groceries inside for her. She tipped him, then helped an old lady carrying several bottles of wine into the passenger seat.
Her hair had been longer that summer when they were kids, the dark color an amazing contrast to her eyes, which were the exact bright green of summer morning grass. He couldn’t stop staring. He’d recognized her immediately. He’d often wondered if he would, if he ever saw her again. She was older, of course, with curves and angles that newly fascinated him because they hadn’t been there before. But he’d still know Kate anywhere. She’d given him the best summer he’d ever had, which he could never think of without thinking about the worst time in his life, which had come directly after.
She had a child with her. She didn’t look much like Kate, but the girl was undoubtedly her daughter. There was just something so Kate about her. She was exactly the child he imagined Kate would have had.
What was she doing here, after all this time? He began to feel vaguely uncomfortable, like that moment you first realize you’ve lost your wallet. He actually reached back to feel if he still had his wallet in his back pocket and if his keys were still in the front.
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