Feels Like Summertime (Lake Fisher 1)

Jake steals a bite of Gabby’s pancake and she playfully tries to stab him with a fork. He laughs and Adam sets a stack of pancakes in the center of the table. Jake gets one for himself. He slathers it with butter and syrup, and then puts another on top.

“I love a man who likes to eat,” Adam says as he lays a hand upon his chest and sighs dramatically.

Dad grumbles and grabs a fork, taking a few pancakes for himself.

“I didn’t think you guys were coming yet,” I say. I get up and fill a dog bowl for Sally, who has been drooling next to Trixie’s plate since the pancakes started moving around. He turns his nose up at it and continues to watch Trixie’s fork go back and forth.

Dad finally notices the dog and stabs his fork in its direction. “What the hell is that?”

“Jake’s dog,” all the kids say at once.

“That beast is yours?” Dad asks Jake.

“Technically speaking, yes.” Jake shovels a forkful of pancakes into his mouth. “His name is Sally,” he says around a bite.

Adam chuckles. “Trixie named him, huh?”

Jake nods. “Yep.”

The crunch of gravel in the drive gets my attention and I lift the edge of the curtain to look out.

“Is that my truck?” Jake asks. He gets up and walks outside. The truck’s horn begins to honk.

“That’s for me,” Gabby says as she eats the last bite of her pancake and finishes her milk. “I’m driving Mr. Jacobson to the doctor.”

“In Jake’s truck?”

“I guess.” She shrugs and walks outside.

I follow them out and I see Jake and his dad arguing at the driver’s side window. “’Bout time, girl,” Mr. Jacobson grouses at Gabby.

“Oh, keep your shirt on,” Gabby tosses back. Mr. Jacobson grins and scoots over so she can drive.

“Gabby’s never driven a truck this big,” I warn them.

But Mr. Jacobson just waves his hand like he’s swatting a fly. “Never a better time to learn.”

Gabby puts the truck in gear, backs over a fence post, and they leave together, the truck making jerky motions.

I feel like someone has just put me inside a snow globe and given it a good shake. The pieces haven’t even started to settle around me yet.

“She’s going to wreck my truck,” Jake says.

I wince. “Maybe not.”

Jake growls low under his breath. “I’m going to kill him. He could have had her drive his car.”

Jake swings around quickly. I see him moving out of the corner of my eye, and I react the only way I know how to react: I brace my arms over my head and wait for the blow.

Jake’s voice is soft when he pulls my arms down from on top of my head. “Katie,” he says, his voice no more than a whisper.

“What?” I say, my heart thundering in my chest.

“Did you think I was going to hit you?” His voice is still soft and even.

I avoid his gaze. “No.”

“Then why did you duck? Why did you cower?”