Feels Like Summertime (Lake Fisher 1)

“Yes, sir,” he said. He got up and held a hand out to me. “Take a walk with me, Katie?” He waited, holding his breath. I slipped my hand into his, and he gave it a squeeze, and that’s how I ended up holding hands with Jake Jacobson for the second time. And it was amazing.

He didn’t try to kiss me that night, but holding hands was better. My heart was all a-skitter, bouncing all over the place as we walked on the shoreline hand in hand.

18

Jake

My gut is all a-whirl trying to figure out how to talk to Katie. I’m a cop, for Christ’s sake. I’ve interrogated men of all sorts. I should be able to talk to a woman. But for some reason, I’m skittish as a newborn colt when it comes to her.

“I saw Alex early this morning,” I suddenly blurt out.

“Alex?” she asks, her brow furrowing. “Where?”

“Pop sent me out in the old canoe to fix the floating dock, and I was out there, on the water, when I saw Alex on the dock.”

She points with emphasis to the ground under our feet. “This morning?”

“Yes.” I stare at her. “You didn’t tell him he could go?”

She shakes her head. “No. I went to the store for food and left Gabby in charge. The little ones were still sleeping.”

“He tossed this into the lake.” I hold out the note to her. “It was inside a plastic bottle.”

“Oh,” she breathes out. She sinks down on the bottom step. “I didn’t know he was still doing this.”

I sit down next to her. “You know what it is?”

She scrubs a hand down her face. “It’s probably a plea to God to bring Jeff home.” Her gaze finds mine. “Am I right?”

“Yes.”

“I thought he was done with that.”

“What’s that all about?” I ask. I watch her face. You can tell a lot about people by watching their faces.

But with Katie, it’s like someone has drawn the shutters. You can’t see in the windows. You can’t get a hint of what’s going on inside.

“The last time his dad left for a deployment, he told Alex that he could write a note, fold it into a paper airplane, and send it over the back fence. That way whatever he wanted to say to his father would get to him.” She heaves a sigh. “He’s still doing it, apparently.”

I stay quiet. For some reason, I don’t think my words are needed here.

“I used to go and collect the notes every day, and then I would take pictures of them and send them to Jeff by email. Then the next time he got to talk to the kids, he would mention them, so Alex would know that his thoughts and ramblings actually made it to his dad.”

“So, are you going to take a picture of this one?”

She groans. “What good would that do me? Or Alex for that matter?” She lumbers to her feet, pressing her belly forward. “Thanks for letting me know he’s doing it here. I wasn’t aware.”

“He asked for help, Katie.”

“I know that, Jake.” She stares into my eyes. And her blue ones are full of something I can’t quite pinpoint.

“What can I do to help you, Katie?” I ask, my heart in my throat.

“We don’t need for you to take care of us, Jake,” she says on a heavy breath. “I just need to be here. I need to stay here and not feel like someone is trying to jerk my soul out of me every time I take a breath.” She presses her fist against her chest. “I just need to breathe, Jake. That’s all I need. If you can’t let me breathe, then get the fuck off me and stay the hell away. I’m not leaving. Please don’t make me miserable.”

Then she stomps up the steps.

I sit there, absolutely stunned. And hurt. And angry.