Second Chance Summer (28 page)

After we left the girls with the rest of the snacks, and instructions to make cookies at midnight, Lucy packed up her things and we headed down the corridor, my mother and Lucy still talking.

“So great to see you again,” my mom said as we reached the from door. “And be sure to tell your mom hi for me.”

“I will,” Lucy assured her as my dad came in from the family room, the dog, as usual, under his arm.

“Can this be Miss Marino?” my dad asked, smiling wide, pretending to be shocked. “All grown up?”

“Hey, Mr. Edwards,” Lucy said, but I could see her smile falter a little bit as she looked at him. Even though he was laughing and rubbing the dog’s ears, I could see what he looked like through Lucy’s eyes—much too thin for his frame, the kind of thin that always seemed to convey sick, not just dieting. The yellow cast to his skin. How much older he looked than he should have.

We walked out to the screened-in porch in silence, each of us carrying one of Lucy’s bags. I led the way down the three steps, and felt the grass, cool on my bare feet. The night was clear, the moon huge over the lake, and the stars were as numerous as I’d ever seen them. But I barely noticed this as we started walking down toward the dock. I had a feeling Lucy was going to say something, so I turned to her first, asking the question that had refused to leave my mind. “What happened with you and Henry?”

Lucy stopped and adjusted the bag on her shoulder. “What do
you want me to say?” she asked. “We dated, and it didn’t work out, and so we split up, and now we’re friends. Kind of.”

“Whose idea was it to go out?” I asked. “Yours or his?”

“Mine,” Lucy said evenly, looking right at me. “I liked him, as I think you were aware.”

I felt my face get hot, but at the same time, it was freeing to talk directly about the things we’d been mad about, but not ever naming, all summer. “I know,” I said. “But just for the record, Henry and I had started dating before you told me you liked him. I just didn’t tell you because I didn’t want…”

“What?” Lucy asked.

I shrugged. It seemed so stupid now, and so long ago, and yet, the ramifications of it all were still playing out, even now. “I didn’t want it to get in the way of our friendship,” I finally muttered.

“Ah,” Lucy said, nodding. Deadpan, she added, “Well, that sure worked out.” I met her eye and we both burst out laughing. “Have you told Henry this?” she asked.

“No,” I said, looking over at her. Lucy shrugged.

“It might help,” she said lightly. She gave me a look that let me know she could tell what I was thinking, even after five years, even in the semidarkness. “Just so you know, most people don’t get this upset when they find out their childhood boyfriend dated someone else,” she said. She arched an eyebrow at me. “I’m just putting that out there.”

Not really wanting to respond to this, I started walking down toward the dock again, Lucy falling into step next to me. “So,” she said after a moment. The way she hesitated, I had a feeling that she was choosing her words carefully. “Is your dad okay?”

Even though I’d had a feeling this was coming, the question still made my chest tight, like someone was clenching my heart, making it hard to breathe. “He’s sick,” I said, hating how even this simple, obvious admission made my voice waver, and made me aware that there were tears lurking behind my eyes somewhere. And that maybe they’d been there, just waiting for their chance, ever since we’d found out.

Lucy looked over at me, and I found myself incredibly grateful that she didn’t ask, “With what?,” that she somehow knew not to ask this. “He has cancer,” I said out loud for the first time. I swallowed hard and made myself go on, saying the word that I hadn’t even known a few months ago but now hated above all others. “Pancreatic.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said, and I could hear from her voice that she meant it. “Is he… ,” she started, then looked away from me, and I could feel her uncertainty. “I mean, will he…” She looked back at me and took a big breath. “Get better?”

I felt my face crumple a little, my chin start to tremble. I shook my head, feeling tears flood my eyes. “No,” I whispered, my voice hoarse, and next to me, I could hear Lucy draw in a breath. I kept
walking toward the dock, focusing on the water in the moonlight, and I tipped my head back slightly, trying not to blink. I knew that if I blinked, it would be all over. I’d be crying, and I had a feeling I might not stop for a long, long time.

“Oh, my God,” she murmured. “Oh, my God, Taylor, I’m so sorry. That’s just…” Her voice trailed off, as though words wouldn’t be able to describe it.

We walked on, me fighting back tears, and then I felt Lucy’s fingers brush mine as she took my hand and held it firmly in hers.

As she did this, I could feel the first hot tear hit my cheek, and then my chin was trembling, out of control again. As I looked out at the water, I realized there was nowhere to go, nowhere left to run. And I just had to stay here, facing this terrible truth. I felt, as more tears fell, just how tired I was, a tiredness that had nothing to do with the hour. I was tired of running from this, tired of not telling people, tired of not talking about it, tired of pretending that things were okay when they had never, ever been less okay. I attempted to pull my hand away, but Lucy just held it, squeezing mine hard, all the way to the end of the dock. And there was something about it—maybe the fact that she was letting me know, physically, that she was there, that she wasn’t going anywhere—that made me feel like I could finally just let myself cry.

When I’d pulled myself together a bit, Lucy headed back to get her kayak, dragging it across the dock. She took out the paddle and
flashlight and placed the kayak on the edge of the dock. “Can I do anything?” she asked.

I shook my head. “No,” I said, running my hand across my face. “Thanks, though.”

Lucy didn’t take the easy out, though, continuing to look at me intently. “Will you let me know if there is anything I can do?” she asked. When I nodded, she pressed, “Promise?”

“Promise,” I said. She dropped the kayak in the water and climbed in, and I handed her down the paddle and flashlight.

“Hey,” she said, looking up at me in the moonlight as she bobbed below the dock, “do you remember any of those codes we used to have?”

I felt myself smile as I thought back to all those messages we had figured out how to send each other across the water. “I think so,” I said.

“Good,” Lucy said, using the paddle to push off the dock and propel herself forward with swift, practiced strokes, the beam of her flashlight bobbing on the water. “Just stay out here for a minute, okay?”

“Okay,” I called back. She waved the paddle at me, and I sat down on the dock and watched her progress, my eyes straying only occasionally to the carving at the end of it, the inscription that joined my name with Henry’s.

When I looked back at the lake, I couldn’t see Lucy anymore,
and figured she must have made it home. Just as I thought this, a beam of light flashed across the water at me. One flash, then three. Then two more, then three.

It came to me after a moment, and I felt myself smile as I translated the message she was sending me.

Good night, Taylor. I’ll see you tomorrow.

chapter twenty-three

Five summers earlier

“T
AYLOR
?” I
LOOKED UP FROM MY LOUNGE CHAIR AND LOWERED MY
dark sunglasses. Lucy was standing in front of me, wearing a bathing suit I’d never seen before, and an expression that fell somewhere between happiness and annoyance.

“Hey, Luce,” I said as I stood up and we hugged, my excitement at seeing her tempered by all the half-truths I’d been telling her about Henry, not to mention the secrets about him I’d been keeping from her. Even though I’d seen the bandanna a week and a half ago, I’d been avoiding her as much as possible. I was spending most of my time with Henry. We had carved our initials into the dock the day before. Part of me thought it was the most romantic thing that had ever happened, but another part of me kept looking across the lake, worried that Lucy would see us. She’d been calling every day, and I’d promised Warren my dessert for a month if he would make up excuses and not ask questions. “Because I knew I wouldn’t be able to talk to her without telling her everything that had happened with Henry—which meant explaining that I’d never actually talked
to him about her, even though almost a month had gone by since she’d asked me.

My mother, saying that my father needed peace and quiet to work, had shooed me out of the house. Not wanting to go to the lake, I’d gone to the pool with a pair of my mother’s old sunglasses and took one of the least desirable lounge chairs, hoping to fly under the radar.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Lucy said, pulling me into another hug, and as she did, I realized with a pang just how much I’d missed her, and how she was the only person I wanted to tell about all the Henry stuff—that even my first kiss didn’t seem complete, because I hadn’t been able to discuss it with her. “We have so much to talk about,” she said, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me in the direction of the concession stand.

“Where are we going?” I asked, letting myself be pulled.

“Snacks,” Lucy said, grinning at me. She pulled a ten-dollar bill out of her pocket and waved it at me. “I think it’s guilt money. Both my parents are giving it to me. My treat.”

Lucy talked a mile a minute as we waited in line, and got Cherry Cokes and a frozen Snickers, to split. She only seemed to notice I hadn’t been saying much once we’d paid and were heading toward one of the wooden tables. “What’s been going on with you?” she asked, finally taking a breath.

I set my can down and brushed my fingers through the lines
of condensation that were already starting to form on it. “Actually,” I said, a little haltingly, “there’s something I have to tell you.” Lucy smiled and leaned forward, but then she looked past me, and her smile froze, turning into something much less relaxed.

“Oh, my God,” she breathed, sitting up a little straighter, a faint blush coming into her cheeks, “he’s here. Do I look okay?”

I turned around to look behind me, and felt my stomach plunge when I saw Henry heading toward me, smiling. Before I could say or do anything—although what I would have said, I had no idea, as I felt totally frozen—he had reached us.

“Hi,” Lucy said, in a giggling, high-pitched voice I wasn’t sure I’d ever heard before. She smoothed down her bangs and tucked her hair behind her ears, smiling wide at him. “How’s it going, Henry?”

“Fine,” he said, glancing at me, and giving me a smile. “When did you get back?” I saw him start to reach for my hand, but I immediately stiffened, and moved my hands so that both were around my Cherry Coke can.

“Oh, about a week ago,” Lucy said, her voice still high-pitched and giggly. “Did you miss me?”

“What?” Henry asked, looking baffled. He took a step closer to me. “Um, I guess.”

“Taylor,” Lucy said, turning to me, still smiling brightly but a little fixedly. She jerked her head in the direction of the concession stand. “Why don’t you go get us some napkins or something?”

She was trying to get rid of me. She was trying to get rid of me so that she could talk to Henry—my Henry, who just a second before had tried to hold my hand. I closed my eyes for a moment, wishing that all of this would just stop, the whole time knowing it was my fault this was happening at all.

“Taylor?” Lucy asked again, her voice a little sharper this time.

“I’ll come with you,” Henry said, taking a step closer to me and, before I could stop him, taking my hand in his. “Lucy’s being
weird
,” he whispered in my ear.

Lucy was staring at the two of us, and she looked much paler than she had just a moment ago. “Taylor, what’s going on?” she asked, her voice no longer giggly.

Henry looked between the two of us, uncomprehending. “Didn’t Taylor tell you?” he asked with a wide, happy smile. He squeezed my hand and swung our linked hands a little. I just stood there, feeling like I was rooted to the spot, not able to speak, or look away from the expression on Lucy’s face.

“She didn’t tell me
anything
,” Lucy said, her voice now laced with anger.

“Oh,” Henry said, his smile dimming a little. He looked at me, frowning slightly. “Tay?”

I cleared my throat, and even when I spoke, it was like the words were sticking there. “Listen,” I said haltingly. “Lucy, I didn’t…”

Lucy narrowed her eyes at me, then turned to Henry. “The only
thing Taylor told me about you was that she doesn’t like you. That you just want to spend all your time in the woods. That you’re a huge dork.” She looked back at me, her expression hard. “Isn’t that right, Taylor?”

Henry’s face fell, and he also turned to me, looking more hurt—and confused—than I had ever seen him look. “Taylor?” he asked. He dropped my hand. “What’s she talking about?”

I looked between the two of them, and I realized how much I’d hurt them—both of them. I didn’t see any way that I could make things better, or even start to fix anything. And I was backing away from the table before I even realized I’d made a decision. But by then, it was too late—I just went with it. I turned and ran for the entrance, leaving them both—the two people who meant the most to me, who I had just managed to hurt simultaneously—behind.