One Golden Summer

by Carley Fortune

It looks like the junk food aisle has been dumped on the floor. There are open bags of chips and popcorn. Gummy bears. Chocolate-covered pretzels. A jar of peanuts. A half-eaten chocolate bar sits on the end table beside Nan. Both she and Charlie have glasses of what I assume is scotch. Rod Stewart is blaring. Nan looks like she’s fighting back laughter, and Charlie’s dimples are so deep they swallow the lamplight. His hand is buried in the bag of gummy bears. His smile falls when he sees me in the doorway.

“Oh my god.” “It’s not a big deal, Alice,” Charlie says, getting to his feet. He’s wearing jeans and a gray flannel shirt. His hair has some kind of product in it. He’s made an effort. “You got my grandmother high?” “Don’t freak out.” “Do not tell me not to freak out.” Nan snickers again. “You’re in for some trouble, Charlie.” “So are you,” I snap. “Alice.” Charlie again. “Back off.” I stare at him, gaping. “Excuse me? How could you sneak over here when I’m not around and bring my grandmother drugs?” “I didn’t sneak. She asked me to. It’s a low dose. Very safe. And it’s legal.” I look at my grandmother. “I was curious if it would improve my sleep.” “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have done something to help.”

I want to be mad at him. For hanging out with my grandmother without me. For the chip crumbs on the rug. For encouraging me to go on a date with his friend, and then infiltrating my mind all evening. But I don’t have to dig too deep to know what’s really bothering me. It’s the possibility that Nan and Charlie didn’t think I’d be up for a night of edibles and Ketchup Lay’s. That they think I’m no fun.

“Do you ever wear a shirt?” I say, holding the door open. “I missed you, too.” Charlie leans against the frame, the picture of ease, but there’s a hesitance in his eyes that makes me wonder.

“It’s cozy,” he says, after giving it a short inspection. “Uh-huh.” “An ideal hideout,” he says, meeting my eyes. “Since you’re avoiding me.” “I am not.”

“It’s one of the nicest days of the summer, and you’re hiding in here. Is this how you treat all your conquests? I feel a little used, Alice.” “Somehow I doubt that.” He shrugs. “Beside the point.”

I roll my eyes, but I’m pleased. I like making him smile. I want his dimples firmly in place.

“Thanks,” he whispers after a moment. I pull my head back enough to gaze up at him. “For what?” “For listening to me. For being my friend.” “You’re welcome.” I squeeze him back. Then I climb off the mattress, holding out my hand. “Come on. Let’s go for a swim. You smell terrible.” He lets out a deep laugh and puts his palm in mine. “You know,” I say as we walk to the water, “you’re a lot more high-maintenance than I would have guessed.”

It’s not the summer I envisioned when we arrived in June—it’s so much better. I feel as though I’ve been wearing a heavy coat and am now finally able to take it off. I feel lighter.

I like who I am with him.

And I don’t have to try. I’ve never felt this comfortable with a man. I’m not sure I’ve felt this kind of ease with anyone.

“Let’s do some low-key drugs.” “You want to get high?” “Only if you do.” Charlie examines the package. “I don’t think a piece of this will have much of an impact on me. It’s a mild dose. Won’t kick in for a bit.” “Sure,” I say. “I can’t let Nan have all the fun. But will you stay with me?

He laughs. “You’re not going to trip, but yeah, I was planning to stick around, if you’ll have me.”

“Yeah, I really took it. “This photo means a lot to me,” I say softly as we study it together. “It made me think I might be good one day. It helped me get into photography school. It was the first shot I ever sold.” I pause. “It changed my life.” Charlie turns to face me. “I’ve gone to see it,” he says. “And I tried to find you, but there was no signature. I wanted to buy a print. I wanted to remember us like this, when things were simple.” “I think that’s one of the reasons I feel so connected to it now,” I say. “When I look at it, I feel like I’m seventeen again.”

“I remember you,” I whisper. His eyes travel across my face so slowly. I don’t recognize the feeling in my chest, full yet weightless. Like there’s a hot-air balloon about to set sail beneath my sternum. “You should have said hi,” Charlie says, voice low.

“I like the person you are. I wouldn’t change a thing.” “No edits?” “Not a single one.”

I’m finishing the hem when Nan says, “Your grandfather was my closest friend, aside from Joyce.” “I know,” I tell her. “I remember how you were together. You were always laughing when Grandpa was around.” Her eyes glisten. “I knew I’d never fall in love again, but I do miss the connection we had. I miss having him here to laugh with.” “You can laugh with me.” She puts her hand over mine. “And I’m grateful for that. Having grandchildren is a truly special thing, but it’s not the same, of course.” I nod, and she studies me. “When I see you and Charlie together, it reminds me of myself and your grandfather.”

“You laugh, Alice. You laugh that big, beautiful laugh of yours. And you’re more like yourself when you’re together. You’re always so busy taking care of everyone and making people happy, but you’re different around Charlie. There’s a lightness to you I haven’t seen in a long time—like you have the freedom to just be when you’re with him.”

I swallow, and Nan pats my hand. “Just see where the sun takes you. And don’t forget: Good things happen at the lake.”

And while I’m prepared to run into a preposterously handsome marble statue of a man, I don’t expect to find him staring at the baskets of pickling cucumbers again. “What is with you and this vegetable?”

“Is that why you’ve been trying her recipes?” Nan asks. “Maybe.” He smiles. “And I love to eat. I’ve missed those pickles.” “Not my thing,” I say, flashing him an apologetic grin. His eyes pop. “What?” “I don’t like them.” “Me neither,” Nan says. “I did all my pickling for Alice’s grandfather and the church bazaar.” “We just made a dozen jars,” Charlie says, glancing between us, mouth hanging open. “I know,” I say, laughing. “They’ll keep, don’t worry.”

“You’re okay,” I tell my reflection. “You’re okay.” Charlie’s waiting for me in the hallway when I finish.

“Are you okay?” I do what I always do and pretend like I’m not hurt. “Yeah. I’m fine.” He studies me for a moment, then wraps me in a hug. “You’re a shit liar.”

“I had to bring in a couple of ringers, but yeah. I was going to surprise you. I thought you and Bennett might want to camp out for a night. Sleep under the stars.” The seventeenth item on my list. “That would have been nice,” I say, my voice unsteady. “I’ve never slept in a tree house.” Charlie flashes me a mischievous green-eyed grin. “You’re welcome to sleep in mine anytime, Alice Everly.”

“You look like you’re about to fight me,” he says.

I narrow my eyes, and he lets out an exaggerated sigh and then tips his head toward the water. “Come on, Rocky.”

“Were you expecting me?” I say, gesturing to them. He shakes his head slowly. “You are the last thing I expected,” he says.

“And you like me.” I reach up, running my fingers over his hair. The newly shorn strands tickle my skin. Charlie takes my face in his hands. “I think I might like you more than anyone.”

His eyes flare. “You might be the biggest surprise of my life, Alice,” he says. And then he crushes his lips to mine.

I look down at him. “I’ve been smiling too much,” I tell him. Charlie’s eyes flash with delight. “No such thing.”

A minute later, I peer at him through the binoculars as he walks down the hill and then out to the end of his dock. He sets his phone on a small, round table, and I can see the smirk clear on his face as he raises his arms and peels off his T-shirt, and then, so fast I almost miss it, he does a flawlessly executed backflip off the end of the dock. I laugh to myself as he climbs out of the water and gives his head a shake. Me: Found one. Definitely male. Loves showing off. I watch Charlie read the text and grin. Me: Come over here. I want to tell you something.

“I need some space.” Without waiting, I exit the cottage and head straight for the boathouse. Charlie gives me space for twelve minutes.

“I have an idea that might cheer you up.” I gaze at him. He’s wearing a green T-shirt with an image of two Muskoka chairs on a dock on the front that Nan has obviously found for him. “Want to do some bad art together?” Make a bunch of bad art. Number seven.

“It’s glorious,” I say, still laughing. “It’s terrible.” “I’m framing it.”

“But?” I turn the pencil over in my fingers. “It’s just me,” Charlie says gently. “You can talk to me.”

“Just like that?” Charlie’s stare is relentless. “If not now, then when?” Every year we get is precious.

He leans across the table. “I’m very good at what I do, and I love being good.”

“How come?” He stares at me across the table, and I can see a debate waging in his eyes. “It’s just me,” I say, repeating his words back to him. “You can talk to me.”

“This time with you and Nan is exactly what I imagined it would have been like for a regular family. You’ve given me the summer I’ve always wanted.”

“I haven’t felt this comfortable with someone in a very long time. I haven’t laughed this much since I don’t know when. I can speak my mind without being afraid you’ll judge me. It’s so freeing. So, yes, you’re fun. That’s a gift, Charlie.”

“I’ll come to your show.” “What?” “If you decide to do it, I’ll be there.” He holds my gaze.

“I want you to know that I don’t think you’re a turtle.” “No?” “No. You’re a Pegasus-unicorn, Alice Everly. You’re one of a kind.”

“You know what Charlie would say if he was here?” She smiles at me. “What would that friend of yours say if he was here?” I ignore her implication. “He’d tell you that you’re lucky to be alive at eighty, and even luckier to have one of your oldest friends on this earth. He’d tell you to reach out to him.”

“Funnily enough,” Nan says, “that’s almost exactly what he said.”

“Obviously I’m intrigued. You’ll show me when you’re ready?” I promise I will. “It sounds like this summer has been good for you,” Elyse says before we hang up. “You sound different.” “I feel different,” I tell her. “I feel like I’ve woken up.”

“This is different. The glasses. The lipstick.” “It’s my work uniform.” “I’ve always loved a woman in uniform,” Charlie says, giving me a wink. I shake my head. The man can’t help himself.

“And why are you smiling like that?” he says. Because for once in my life, I don’t feel like I’m on the sidelines. For once, I’m in the photo.

“Jesus,” I hear Sam say. Percy starts to cry. “You really do like showing off,” I murmur to Charlie. “I like seeing them happy,” he says to me. Then louder: “Cut it out, Pers. You haven’t even seen inside yet.”

“You built this magical tree house for your niece or nephew,” I say. “You made the best birthday cake I’ve ever tasted. You take my grandmother to choir practice and make me laugh harder than I have in my entire life. You care about people, and you’re far kinder and more considerate than you give yourself credit for.”

“Charlie,” I say quietly when he doesn’t answer. He gives me a long look and says, “Fuck it.”