When August Ends - Page 25

“Wow. That’s pretty cool and creepy at the same time.”

“Yeah, especially since I looked a lot like her when I was little—with my light blond hair and the bangs I used to have. When I was younger, I was totally obsessed with that movie. I liked to pretend I was her. I would turn the TV to a snowy channel, put my palms on the screen, and play Poltergeist. To this day, I love horror movies. It’s one way I take after my mother.”

“Well, if I didn’t think you were strange already, that pretty much seals the deal,” I teased.

“Do you have any strange habits, Noah?”

“Nothing comes to mind.”

“You want to know something else I do that’s strange?”

“I think you’re gonna tell me either way.”

“I talk in my sleep.”

“No shit? How do you even know that, if you’re sleeping?”

“I’ve been told by various people. My mother…Eric…my sister.”

Her expression dampened upon the mention of her sister. I tried to snap her out of it.

“So, what kinds of things do you say? Funny shit?”

“Weird things that don’t make sense sometimes. Other times, embarrassing truths. I can only go by what they tell me I said. I have no recollection of it.”

I remembered there was something I needed from my truck.

She looked up from where she was planting flowers when she noticed me walking away. “Where are you going?”

“Gotta get something from the truck. Be right back.”

When I returned with what I’d purchased, she took one look at it and said, “Oh my God. What did you do?”

“What or whooo,” I joked.

I dug the stick into the ground. Attached to the top was a fake owl that looked quite lifelike.

Heather had told me a story one night about her father planting a cherry tree shortly before he took off. Each year, the birds got to the cherries before anyone could pick them. Heather had always somehow related that to her dad leaving nothing for them. That made me angry, so I wanted to do something. I bought the owl hoping maybe it would save some of the cherries. Maybe Heather could finally have some for what could possibly be her last summer at the lakehouse.

“This guy here is supposed to scare away the birds. Might as well give him a try. Maybe we can salvage some of the cherries that are coming in. You said they’re almost ready to pick around now.”

“I can’t believe you thought to do that.” She flashed a gorgeous smile. “Thank you.”

She kept staring at the owl, seeming deeply moved by my gesture. It didn’t take much to make her happy. That was one of the things I loved about her.

Whoa.

Calm the fuck down.

“I’ll tell you what,” she said. “If this works, I’ll make you the biggest and best cherry pie to celebrate. I don’t have a clue how to do that, Noah, but I’ll learn. I will.”

I started singing the Warrant song, “Cherry Pie.”

“What’s that song?” she asked.

“You’ve never heard that song? I thought you knew all the old songs from the nineties!”

“No. I must be slipping.”

It dawned on me that I was in elementary school when that song came out, which meant Heather hadn’t been born yet. Damn, that made me feel old. I pulled the song up on my phone and cranked the volume.

Heather started shaking her ass around in her short little shorts, and I pretended not to love every second of it.

The music stopped, and we went back to work on the gardening and landscaping.

After a long while, she dropped a bomb. “I have to tell you something. It’s important. Well, two things. I might need you to stop working for a minute.”

Her tone made me uneasy. “Yeah…let me put my hoe down.”

“Don’t talk to her like that,” she joked.

“Very funny,” I said, digging the hoe into the dirt to stand it up. “What’s up?”

Heather licked her lips. “I’m going to talk to a realtor tomorrow, to get the process started, find out what things I need to do to put this place on the market.”

My heart beat faster. I wasn’t sure why. I was the one encouraging her to sell this place, but something about her really going through with it put me on edge. I knew she would miss it here and would probably never be ready to leave it behind. Heck, I would miss it here, and I hadn’t grown up here.

“I think that’s a good idea,” I said, ignoring all my conflicted thoughts.

“The other thing is…I’ve been thinking a lot about some of the stuff we’ve been talking about—how precious these years are. There’s something I haven’t mentioned, but I didn’t think I could make it a reality until recently…”

“Okay…”

“I applied to the University of Vermont. I got into their nursing program, but it would be for the spring semester. I applied knowing I might not be able to go, but I got accepted anyway. I think I’m going to do it.”

Tags: Penelope Ward Romance
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