“I don’t need to move forward. Jesus, Zach what is this? Dump on Molly day?”
“I’m just saying, you’ve been pining over him for years. Fucking years, Molly, and you’ve never done anything about it. That’s not who you are. What are you afraid of?”
“Pining?” she all but spat. “I haven’t been pining. What does that even mean?”
Her brother didn’t bite, and after a few seconds, she shrugged.
“Rejection,” she finally said, admitting defeat. “Humiliation. What else is there?”
Zach cracked a smile. “I don’t see that happening. Look, all I’m saying is that you’ll never give someone else a chance with his ghost sitting on your shoulder. And it won’t matter whether he’s here in Crystal Lake or back in New York.” He paused. “I saw you guys in Vegas. Saw you come out of his room.”
Shocked, her mouth dropped open.
“I don’t know what went down, and honestly, it’s none of my business. But there was a weird vibe that weekend, and there’s been a weird vibe this week. Molly, you need to put this shit to bed. Deal with it.”
“Do you think…does he have any idea?” Molly asked Zach quietly, because she
would just about die if he did. It was one thing for her to throw herself at him after a drunken night in Vegas. That could be written off as a booze-fueled mistake. But had he, rightly so, read more into it?
Her brother didn’t answer for a bit and then slowly shook his head. “Nah. Guys never know that kind of stuff unless someone hits them over the head with it.” He paused and then looked at her, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Maybe it’s time, Moll.”
“Time for what?” she asked, afraid to hear the answer.
“Maybe it’s time for you to hit him over the head.”
Chapter Eight
Saturday morning rolled around much too quickly for Nate. It felt like he’d barely closed his eyes when his dad poked him in the shoulder and told him to get his ass in gear if wanted to catch any fish.
It was still dark out when he stumbled into the kitchen to find Beck already there, scrambling up eggs and sausages and bacon. He nodded his hello and aimed his body straight for the coffee. The men ate in silence, the way guys do at this time of the morning, a grunt here, a pass the maple syrup there, but by the time the three of them reached the lake, the sun was just starting to spill across the horizon, and Nate was not only awake but feeling that thing he always did when he was in a boat, on the water, with his dad and brother.
He didn’t have a word for it. Contentment was close, but not quite there.
Whatever it was, if he could bottle this feeling up, he’d keep it stockpiled for those days in the city when he barely had time to grab a coffee and ate a pack of Rolaids for dinner. Things moved slow out here on the lake, and as the three of them settled into the familiar quiet, he realized he’d missed this more than he thought possible.
He’d been away from Crystal Lake too long.
By early afternoon, they’d caught a good haul of small mouth bass, a few trout, and a lot of perch. The lake was busier by this time, and even in the relatively quiet space they’d claimed hours earlier, the fish had taken note and were no longer biting. They headed back to shore, stopped long enough to have a conversation with Cam Booker, who was out on a Jet Ski with his daughter, Tawny, and then packed up their fish into large coolers stuffed with ice.
They headed back to town. The plan was to gut their haul and get the fish ready for the Malones, who were hosting their annual Labor Day weekend fish fry. Nate’s mother was waiting for them with tomato sandwiches, which they ate quickly, and got to work.
It was close to four o’clock when they finished, and the three of them relaxed with a cold beer. Nate listened to his father and brother discuss Beck’s upcoming project, a complete kitchen renovation for Colleen McBride, Cate’s mom. Cate, the love of Beck’s life. The woman who’d been taken from them by a drunk driver all those years ago.
It wasn’t something anyone talked about, really, and it got Nate to thinking. When their father got up to help their mother with something inside, he looked at his brother.
“You still miss her,” he said quietly.
Beck was silent for a few moments and then slowly nodded. “Yes. She was…” Beck tossed his empty beer into the bin beside them and shrugged. “Cate was one of a kind.”
“Have you met anyone else?”
“No.” The answer was crisp and came as soon as the question fell from Nathan’s lips.
“Don’t you want to?”
Beck looked at Nate. There was an absence of expression in Beck’s eyes that wasn’t right and Nate regretted asking the question. He should have kept his mouth shut.
“What’s the point? Any sane woman would be crazy to get involved with me. I’d make her miserable as hell because no one will ever come close to Cate, not for me. No one.” His brother was quiet for a bit and then shrugged. “I was seeing a girl from town a few years back, and for a time, she made me forget. But, every once in a while, I’d say Cate wouldn’t do that, or Cate hated that reality TV shit, or Cate like her eggs runny so she could dip her toast in the yolk. She got sick and tired of being compared to Cate, and she stopped coming around.”