“You remember my Wonder Wall?”
“I remember hating Oasis and rolling my eyes that you called your collage in your room your ‘Wonder Wall.’”
“I was fourteen. I didn’t even know who Oasis was. I just liked the song. And what were you doing peeking at my dream collage, anyway?”
“I wanted to see if I was on it.”
“Were you?”
“No. Harry Potter was.”
“I’d still spread for Daniel Radcliffe.”
“Do you want to see inside this cabin or do you want to make me puke?” he asked.
“I want to see inside.”
He took her by the hand again and led her up the cobblestone path to the front door. He’d found some photos online of stone cabins and cottages and had painted the windowsills bright red with a red front door.
“We went to Carmel when I was a kid,” she said. “Best vacation. I loved all those little houses.”
“You sent me a postcard.”
“I did?”
“You don’t remember?”
“I sent tons of postcards,” she said.
“I feel so special.”
She looked at him and smiled. “You are special.”
“Write it on a postcard. Maybe then I’ll believe that.”
Joey wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him long and hard on the mouth. Tongue was involved. Very involved.
“Now do you feel special?” she asked.
“The special-est. Now stop kissing me so I can find the keys.”
She stepped back and he dug around in his pockets, producing a key ring of many, many keys.
“How many houses do you have?”
“I have keys to all the Lost Lake properties,” he said, flipping to the key with the red tag. “I’m Dillon’s personal handyman.”
“Thought that was Oscar.”
“I’m going to tell them both you said that.”
He stuck the key in the lock, opened the door, and like the gentleman he usually wasn’t, he let Joey in first. He flipped on the light switch and shut the door behind them.
“It’s not finished,” he said. “We had to focus on the exterior and the roof before the weather turned.”
Joey stood in the center of house and spun in one complete circle.
“It’s so beautiful I can’t even believe it’s real. I thought you worked a miracle with Mom and Dad’s old cabin. This is...”