“You think I’d go out with someone to get Dad’s approval?”
“Sometimes I think you’d do almost anything for it.”
Winona forced a laugh, but it didn’t fly. Sometimes she worried about that, too. How far would she go for her father’s approval? “This whole conversation is pointless because I’m fat. Luke won’t want to go out with me. He never did.”
Aurora gave her a sad, familiar look. “You know what amazes me about you, Win?”
“My keen intellect?”
“How wrong you are when you look in the mirror.”
“Says the size six former cheerleader.” Winona pushed to her feet. “Come over at three tomorrow, okay?”
“I’ll be there.”
“And Aurora? Don’t tell anyone about this. Especially Vivi Ann. That stupid crush was a long time ago. I wouldn’t want anyone to think it matters now. Hell, he’s probably married with three kids.”
“Your secrets have always been safe with me, Win.”
The next afternoon, Winona stared at herself in the full-length mirror in her bedroom. These were not good fashion times for a woman of her size: shoulder pads, high-waisted slim-legged jeans, and cowboy boots were hardly helpful to her cause.
Aurora had done her very best, and Winona appreciated the effort, but some endeavors were simply destined to fail, and trying to slim her down was one of them. She kicked off her boots and actually felt some satisfaction when they thunked against the wall. Instead, she slipped on a pair of well-worn flats.
“He’s going to think I haven’t stopped eating since he left.”
All the way to her car, and through town, she reminded herself that this was a business meeting with a man she used to know but didn’t anymore. She absolutely should not tangle the past up with the present. Her crush on him had been a childhood thing, not substantial enough to last.
She drove along the waterfront, past the touristy shops that lined the Canal, and turned left at the end of town. Here was the Water’s Edge property line. She couldn’t help noticing again how ragged the fences were looking. It reminded her again of yesterday’s meeting with her father. Out at the highway, she drove south for a quarter of a mile and then turned onto Luke’s land. Although the Grey and Connelly parcels were adjoining, Luke’s land had been vacant for years; the grass, even in winter, was tall and clumpy. Alder trees had sprouted up like weeds in the past few years, giving the acreage a spindly, unkempt look. The old house, an L-shaped rambler built in the early seventies, was sorely in need of paint and the shrubbery around it had grown wild. Junipers tangled with rhododendrons, which peeked through azaleas.
She parked alongside his big dually truck and killed the engine. “He’ll just want to give you the papers and say how nice it is to see you after all this time. Then he’ll introduce you to his wife and kids.” She took a deep breath and got out of the car.
The grass between her and the front door was soggy and brown. She left footprints that immediately filled with muddy water.
At the front door, she ran a hand through the hair Aurora had so meticulously curled and sprayed. Then she knocked at the door.
He answered almost instantly—and that was how quickly she knew she was in trouble.
He’d been tall in high school, but lanky and a little gawky. Those days were gone. He was tall and broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted—the kind of guy who went to the gym. His hair was still thick and mink brown, a perfect complement to his green eyes. “Win,” he said.
And there it was: the smile that had always kicked the hell out of her heart.
“L-Luke,” she stammered. “I came by for those documents . . .”
He pulled her into his arms and gave her the kind of whole-body hug she’d nearly forgotten existed.
“You think I’m going to let my best friend from high school just pick up some papers and go?”
He took her by the hand and led her through the house. It was like stepping into a time machine, being in the room that had changed so little in the past years. The same burnt-orange sculpted carpet was beneath her feet, the same brown and gold and orange plaid sofa hugged the wall, the same amber glass lamps with beaded switches sat on the end tables.
“The only thing missing is a black light,” Luke said, grinning as he opened the avocado-colored fridge and pulled out a pair of beers. “It smells musty in here. I think the renters were smokers. Do you mind if we sit outside?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.” She followed him out to the big cement patio that ran the length of the house. Off to the left, a barbecue was slowly rusting apart and dozens of dead geraniums sagged in flower boxes along the railing, but none of that could diminish the view. Like Water’s Edge, this parcel of land looked out across the Canal—flat and silver on this late afternoon—and right at the saw-blade, snowcapped Olympic Mountain Range on the opposite shore. A thicket of trees provided total privacy between their properties. They sat in the rocking love seat that had once been Winona’s favorite place in the whole world.
“I guess we should start with the basics,” he said, opening his beer and leaning back to take a sip. “After we moved to Montana, I ended up going to WSU to become a vet. Big animals. Where did you go to school?”
“UW. Undergrad and law school.”
“I thought you were going to run off and see the world. I was surprised to hear that you’d come back.”