One Golden Summer

by Carley Fortune

I hate admitting when I’m wrong, but here we are. I hope you’ll consider shooting for us in the future. “Still gloating, I see,” Charlie says. I laugh. “I’m not gloating. I’m basking.”

“Give it to me,” Charlie says. I squint at him. “What?” “Whatever it is that’s on your mind.” “I’m going to miss you when you’re gone. That’s all. I’m getting used to having you around.” He gives me his sad-boy smile. “I’m going to miss you, too.”

“I’m sorry,” he says against my mouth. “I wanted you too much.” I don’t know if he lifts me off the ground or if I climb him like a tree. “No such thing,” I tell him, biting his bottom lip. “Although I hope you didn’t leave my grandmother on the side of the road,” I say. “I’m somewhat attached to her.” “She’s playing cards. I’ll pick her up in a few hours.”

“I’m just trying to remember the moment,” he says. “What moment is that, exactly?” Charlie dives in, and I watch him glide underwater until he reaches me. “You,” he says, standing in front of me. His head is above the surface, while I have to tread water. “And me.” He looks around him. “This.”

“Put that down, Charlie Florek,” I say. “You don’t even know how to use it.” “I’m getting better.” I’ve been showing him a few basics. “Come on. Just one. You’ve spent the whole summer getting shots of other people. Why not one of you, too?”

I watch him focusing on whatever he’s doing with phone settings. He’s so handsome. “Are you ready?” “No.” But I smile my cheesiest, toothiest smile. “Beautiful,” he says when he’s finished.

I get a notification: charlesflorek has tagged me in a photo. My chest tightens as I study it. Charlie must have been shooting before he asked if I was ready. It’s me, staring at the camera, staring at him. There’s a gentle smile on my mouth, and my eyes are warm. I look happy—no, it’s stronger than happiness. I look like I’m at peace.

The caption is short. He’s only used one word. Alice.

And, sure, some of the shots aren’t any good, and they’re far from flawless, but even the mediocre images are rich with emotion. Photos of Nan. The water. Charlie’s yellow boat flying across the bay. Memories of this second golden summer.

“Are you as much trouble as Alice?” he calls out. Heather casts me a look that lets me know she’s going to be asking what that means later. “So much worse,” she yells back. I imagine Charlie laughing to himself as he steps into the boat. “Do not embarrass me, Heather.” She puts her hand to her chest. “Me? I would never. And especially not in front of your…” She glances at Bennett, and they both sing out, “Boooooyfriend.” “He’s just a friend.” “Sure, sure.”

“One more,” Charlie says, crouching beside me. He turns the camera around, an old-fashioned selfie. “Really?” I ask him. “Really.” We’re still looking at each other when he presses the shutter.

And then Charlie turns around so he’s facing me, winks, and then springs backward off the platform, flipping in the air before slicing into the lake. “Whoa,” I hear the girl say. I climb over the railing, and before I jump, I look at her over my shoulder and say, “Sorry, that one’s mine.”

“Umm…” I don’t know where to begin. “Fine,” she says. “I’ll tell you what I like about him.” She holds up a finger. “One, he threw himself into the middle of three generations of Everly women like a champion. He got Bennett to talk to him at lunch, and he carried Nan like the precious cargo she is.” A second finger rises. “Two, it takes balls to hang up on Dad and me the way he did last month. I respect that. And three, he kept his shirt on.” I sigh, remembering how on the boat ride back, Charlie cut the motor in the middle of the lake so we could jump off. Heather went first, and I followed. Bennett was hesitant, so Charlie offered to jump with her. They stood on the end of the boat, both in their T-shirts, and cannonballed into the water. Charlie rarely wears a shirt on dry land, let alone in the water.

Heather clears her throat. “And four, well, look at him. The way that shirt stuck to his abs. Give me another martini, and I might fight you for him.”

“And five…” “Wow, this is a long list.” She gives me a meaningful l...

“What do you like about him?” What don’t I like about him? “He’s…” I look out at the lake, thinking about when I first realized there was so much more to Charlie than provocation and pectorals. “He’s different from me—more outgoing, more confident, not shy at all. But we’re similar, too. He’s really attuned to people and takes care of them in his own way. We can spend hours and hours together, talking or not talking, and we don’t get sick of each other. He’s funny, but he’s also incredibly thoughtful. I can be myself when I’m with him. And I’ve never had so much fun. With anyone. Ever.”

“Right,” she repeats. “That’s why you should grab onto whatever makes you happy now and hold on for as long as you can. Life’s short.”

“Get in here, Alice,” Charlie calls. “Biggest splash you can make.” “I’m good. I don’t want to get my hair wet.” The two of them give each other a look, and then Charlie swims to the ladder and pulls himself out. He stalks toward me. I set the tray of sandwiches and iced tea down. “No,” I say, seeing the look on his face. “Don’t even think about it.” With a grin, Charlie scoops me up. “Too late.” “I hate you,” I say as he carries me to the edge of the dock, my arms around his neck. He smiles at me, water running down his face in glistening rivulets. “Nah,” he says. “You love me.”

“I couldn’t wait to get back. I didn’t stop the entire drive here. I felt like I’d left my family behind when I was in the city.” His eyes find mine. “You’re important to me, Alice. I just wanted to say that in case you don’t know.

“You’re important to me, too.”

“You told me you hated me no less than four times,” he says. “I regret nothing,” I mumble.

“I wasn’t not speaking to you. I texted. I said hello when you stopped by.” He raises an eyebrow. “You know you can’t tell a lie to save your life. Come on.”

This, I think. This is worth something, too.

I know I need to tell Charlie I have feelings for him, even if it ruins everything. Just not yet. I want to wrap my hand around the last strands of summer, to enjoy what we have for a little longer. But the next day, as I stand in the darkroom looking at the print I’ve spent the morning developing, I realize my time is up. It’s the second photograph that will change my life.

Charlie stares straight at me in the photo. His cheeks are dimpled, his smile lit with wonder. But it’s the look in his eyes that leaves me breathless. It’s one I’ve seen before. It’s how Nan looked at Grandpa.

I meet his eyes, my pulse thundering. “This has been the best summer of my life,” I tell him. “These last two months have meant everything to me. I want to show you how much they’ve meant. How much you mean.” His fingers brush against mine. “Alice.” My name falls from his lips like a plea. I see the tension in his neck, his shoulders. “I want you,” I whisper.

The next time my eyes travel to the Floreks’ dock, I see him standing there. Charlie waves, and we wave back. “I told you,” Nan says, smiling over the water. “What’s that?” She glances at me. “Good things happen at the lake.”

She laughs. “Because I like you. Do I need a better excuse?” For some inexplicable reason, the back of my nose stings. I shake my head. Percy smiles, big and broad, the kind of smile that warms you right through. “Good. Next Saturday? I’ll text you.”

I want to tell him how mad I am. I want to compose a powerful speech, one that encapsulates how shattered I feel. I want to scream it into his voicemail so he can listen to it over and over. But whenever I try to figure out what to say, I start with “I’m so mad at you,” and what comes next is “I miss you.”

Charlie hasn’t opened his eyes when he speaks. “Stop staring at me, Alice.” Every word sounds pained. “How do you know I’m staring?” “Because you can’t help yourself,” he croaks.

“I’m so mad at you,” I tell him. “And I’ve missed you so much.”

“Well, too bad for Charlie,” I say to Sam. “Tell your brother I’ll give him a couple days to catch up on his beauty rest, but that I’ll be there on Saturday.”

“Good,” Sam says. I can hear his smile. “It’s about time Charlie met his match.”

“We don’t need to talk about that today,” I say. “But you can’t stop me from worrying or wanting to help. You need support, Charlie. You need your people, and like it or not, I’m one of them.” Charlie stares at me. He doesn’t argue. “All that matters right now is that you get better. And then I’ll yell at you.” His lips curve. “Fair enough.” I hand him the envelope. “These are for you. So you don’t forget.” His eyes move between mine. “Forget what?” “Us.”

“That sounds like it was the smartest thing to do,” I tell him. “Getting some time away to think, to relax.” He looks at me, his eyes dancing. “Until I met a very troublesome redhead.” “Careful,” I tell him. “I’m still furious you didn’t tell me.”

“Upstaged by your niece, huh?” He smiles—a gorgeous, golden Charlie smile. “The nerve of that girl.” “Complete monster,” I agree.

“I saw a man who couldn’t keep his eyes off you. A man who hasn’t looked so happy in a very long time. I saw a man who finally found the kind of person he always wanted for himself. A best friend. A smart-ass. A brilliant, talented, caring woman, who deserves so much more than me.”

“I saw something else in those photos,” Charlie says. And then he goes for it. “I saw myself falling in love with you.” My heart is racing and my throat is too tight to speak. “I’m in love with you, Alice,” he says. “I knew the day you crashed John’s boat that you were going to be trouble for me. I should have kept my distance, but I couldn’t stay away. And the more I got to know you, the more beautiful and terrifying it became. Until I knew I’d finally found the person I’ve been waiting for.” He puts his forehead on mine and closes his eyes.

Charlie smiles beneath my fingers. “The part where I tell you I love you?” “Yes, that part. I liked that part a lot.” Tears fall down my cheek, and Charlie kisses them away. I’m already smiling when he says, “I love you, Alice Everly.”

“I want to make you laugh that witchy laugh. And I want to be there for you when you cry. I’ll bake all your birthday cakes. I want to tell you dirty things and watch you blush. I want to see every photo you take and tell you how brilliant you are. I want to get to know your whole family. I want to hear all of your jokes. I want to spend summers at the lake with you and winters in the city. I want to run your errands, and buy you expensive soap, and pose nude for you.” I laugh. “There it is,” he says to himself. “My Alice has the best laugh.” “ ‘My Alice’?” I say, grinning. “I hope so. I want that,” he says. “I want you more than anything.” “Good,” I tell him, setting my hand on the scruff of his jaw. “Because I love you, too, Charlie Florek.”

“I love you so much it’s a little embarrassing,” I say. His green eyes sparkle. His pretty mouth smirks. My Charlie.

“Whoa-level embarrassing? Or crash-your-boat-into-a-rock-level embarrassing?” “Much worse,” I tell him. “It’s so much worse.” I kiss him once, carefully. “You can do better than that, Alice.” “I’m afraid of hurting you.” His fingers thread into my hair. “It’d be worth it,” he says,

Charlie is still full of teasing and smug grins, but there’s no joking when he tells me how much he loves me. I feel cherished and safe, but I also feel like I’m flying.

“God, you’re beautiful.” “God, you’re cheesy,” I say, cheeks straining. “You like it.” “I love it,” I correct.

I know that he’s worth so much more than he thinks he is. I will give him everything I have—my time and my devotion and my heart. And I know he’ll give it right back to me. Because I know Charlie. The incorrigible flirt. The human beam of sunlight. The man I love.

He’s my best friend. And he’s remarkable.

Not that it surprises me. I fall more in love with Charlie with every joke, every laugh, every evening he leaves me alone to go to choir practice with Nan, every morning he struts around the apartment with his shirt off, every kiss I press to the scar that runs down the center of his chest. I moved into his place—our place—in the spring just as he gave his notice. Charlie took the summer off to decide what he wanted to do next and to work on John’s cottage. We still call it that, though it’s ours now.

We watched Charlie swirl Susie’s chubby legs in the water, and then Percy turned to me. “This might sound weird,” she said, and Sam started to chuckle. She glared at her husband before turning back to me. “But I had this feeling that things weren’t complete until you showed up. It’s like you were always meant to be here, Alice.” At that, Charlie’s eyes swung to mine. “That’s because she was.”

She was at the cottage to witness the biggest argument of our relationship thus far: I want to paint the wood walls white, and Charlie is adamantly opposed. We were in the kitchen, washing dishes, both of us in bathing suits, me with dish gloves on, and what started as a conversation became a full-out battle that was only broken up by Nan laugh-crying from her armchair. “John and Joyce used to have this debate every summer,” she said when we joined her in the living room. “It’s nice,” she said, “that so much has changed, but so little has, too.”

And then I find Charlie. He’s off to the side, and from where I’m standing, One Golden Summer hangs in the background over his shoulder. I love you, he mouths to me. I look into those extraordinary green eyes. And then I begin to speak.