Page 62 of Until Summer Ends

When Eli gets out of the door while holding Zoe’s hand, I’m waiting for him.

He climbs down the three porch steps before he notices me and stops. While Zoe’s face lights up, his is blank. Or maybe blank isn’t the right word. Guarded is more like it. Then, he takes me and my large backpack in, and confusion seeps through.

Looking at Zoe, I say, “I was wondering if you were still looking for that birthday crown braid?”

“Yes!” she shouts way too loudly for a Saturday morning at 7:00 a.m. She lets go of her father to hug me, then says, “I have to go say goodbye to my caterpillar friend. Give me a sec.” She’s off running toward the backyard before I can say a word.

Eli hasn’t moved a single muscle, his expression wary. He’s wearing a backward hat with a simple black T-shirt and jeans, and God,he looks good. He hasn’t shaved this morning, and looking at that scruff only makes me remember how it felt on my palm, against my cheeks, my lips.

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m giving myself the rest of the summer.” Givingusthe rest of the summer. I’m not ready to go back, and I don’t want to let go of this just yet. It’ll be one last summer here, with him, for old time’s sake. “If you’ll still have me.”

I went over my dilemma with Emily while she was on her way to the hospital, and she agreed I should stay. In fact, her exact words were, “If I see you at work tomorrow, I’ll kick your ass.” We do love a supportive friend.

His throat works. “Any particular reason why?”

I wrap my arms around my middle. “I heard there’s a world-renowned choir recital at the end of August. Couldn’t miss that.”

Slowly,finally, his guard falls, and I swear, the small but genuine smile that overtakes his face could power an entire city.

“So?” I take a few steps in his direction, stopping far enough that it’s safe. “Will you have me?”

“Yeah. We’ll have you.”

Chapter 25

The lake is an image of stillness.

We might only be an hour and a half away from Cape Weston, but I would believe you if you said we’d traveled to another country. Flatness and long strips of sand have been replaced by mountains and lush greenery, with large freshwater lakes interspersed throughout the land. The forest around the cottage is so dense, it’s as if we’re completely blocked from the rest of the world. I never want to leave.

I’ve been to this cottage once, when it still belonged to Eli’s grandfather. I was fourteen, and I remember thinking I’d never seen a place so peaceful. Sitting in an Adirondack chair on the long dock that overlooks the water, nothing but the sound of birds chirping and wind rustling around me, I still agree. It feels light here. It also helps that an enormous weight has been taken off my shoulders by delaying my return to work. I feel like I can breathe again, knowing I have until summer ends to get myself ready.

The quiet is torn to shreds when Zoe comes running out of the cottage, dressed in a vintage princess costume—or is it a fairy? Behind her, Charlie, Eli’s sister, follows, also dressed in a long, medieval dress. The two of us were never that close since she wasfive years younger than me, but I was genuinely happy to see her when we arrived yesterday.

“Lead me to your dragons, Princess Zoe,” Charlie shouts theatrically, which makes Zoe giggle. The two of them run around the wide yard, Charlie going all-in with split jumps.

And then, the star of the show emerges from the cottage. I clap my hands while tapping my feet against the dock I’m sitting on.

“What a pretty princess you make!” I tell Eli, who obviously wouldn’t have refused his daughter anything, even if it meant wearing a too-small velvet dress and one of those cone-like hats with hanging ribbons.

He curtsies when he reaches me.

“Where did you even find these?” I ask.

“The cedar closet downstairs.”

I brush a thumb against the ribbon hanging by his face. He traces the movement with his gaze, which makes me realize just how close I’ve gotten. I let go, knotting my hands behind my back. He follows that movement, too.

We haven’t mentioned what happened in his room since it happened, and I’m not sure whether that’s a good or a bad thing. I don’t know whether he regrets it and wants to forget it even happened. I know I’m torn about it too. I’m still leaving by the end of the summer. There’s no future for me in Cape Weston. But then, I catch sight of him licking his thumb after opening a jar of tomato sauce and remember how that mouth felt against mine, and I’m not so sure I want to enforce my self-preservation instincts anymore.

“They’re kind of scary,” I say. The bottom of his dress has obviously been eaten by whatever animal or insect lives down here during the winter, and dark stains cover the burgundy material.

“Don’t tell me. I had nightmares of these costumes for years.” He fingers the velvet and shivers. “I don’t even want to know where Mom got them.”

“Some creepy guy on Craigslist, probably.”

“My skin is suddenly very fucking itchy.”

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