Feels Like Summertime (Lake Fisher 1)

“Are you coming back next year?” I asked. A lot of our lodgers came back year after year. They were regulars, and we got to know them, their children, and their grandchildren.

She shook her head. “I don’t know.” She pressed her lips to the tender skin above the collar of my shirt. “I hope so,” she whispered.

“Will you write to me?”

She nodded against my chest. “Of course.”

That night, we talked about everything and nothing. We kissed until my lips were sore, until Katie put a stop to my wandering hands, until the sun peeked over the horizon and I knew our time together was almost over.

I paddled the canoe back to the dock and hooked it up to the mooring cleat. Then I helped Katie step onto the dock. She turned to face me.

“No matter wha

t, Jake,” she said, “I’ll always love you.” Then she buried her face in my chest.

I held her tightly against my chest, not even close to being ready to let her go. But the sun was coming up, and I could already smell brewing coffee. It was time to take her back.

I slid her bedroom window open and she kissed me one last time. Then I boosted her up and through the window. “I’ll see you later,” she whispered. Then she closed the window, and I imagined her sliding between cold sheets, scissoring her legs together to warm them up.

I went home and tiptoed up the steps. Pop looked up when I came in the door. I choked. “Why are you up?” I asked.

He looked toward the dock through the kitchen window. “Have fun last night?” he asked quietly. His voice was soft, and not at all like Pop.

“It wasn’t about fun,” I protest.

He heaved out a breath. “I know.”

“I just wanted to say a proper goodbye,” I rushed to explain. But he held up a hand.

“I understand, Jake. Go to bed.”

“You don’t want to give me some stupid chore?” I huffed.

He shook his head. “No.”

I crossed my arms. “Are you sure?”

“Go to bed, Jake,” he said a little more strongly.

“You can tell me my punishment later,” I bit out. Then I stormed to my room and slammed the door.

Pop never did punish me. I kissed Katie goodbye in front of everyone that day, and she drove away with her hand pressed against the back glass of her parents’ car. I blinked back the pain, and then I started writing that first letter to her. I wrote her every day for the next month. Then it turned into one letter every few days, and hers to me began to slow down too.

Life went back to normal, and the letters started to come about once a month. Then they stopped completely.

47

Katie

When I spot Cole’s blond head circulating with the responding EMTs and police officers as if he is one of them, I realize it is up to me to take action now. This has gone on for far too long. Everything I love is at stake. Everyone I love is at stake. I have no choice and I know it.

I need a gun.

I know Jake’s gun cabinet is locked and I don’t have the combination. But I need to shoot the bastard so we can stop this madness. I need some peace. I need to be able to go on with my life.

After the last time Cole showed up, Jake wanted my parents to be prepared, so he left his Colt .45 in a locked box under the bed. I know where the key is: on the shelf in the closet.

I let myself into the cabin and go to the bedroom. I drop down to the floor to reach beneath the bed so I can grab the locked box. I swipe my hand under the bed, finding nothing but a bunch of dust bunnies, just as someone’s hands wrap around my feet and jerk me out.