The Lake (The Lake Trilogy, Book 1) (3 page)

Luke smiles as he places the vase back on the table. “I should’ve let it break. I never liked this piece,” he whispers to me with a crooked smile. I smile back at him as relief floods my body.

“My room, yeah, that’d be great. Thanks,” I say politely as I clumsily pick up the pillows and straighten the rug. I watch for Claire’s reaction to my disturbance of the perfection of the room. She doesn’t seem upset at all. In fact, she joins me in picking up the last pillow and gives Luke a teasing nudge at his not-so-subtle comment.

Claire leads me upstairs to a huge open loft with floor to ceiling windows on the backside of the house. There are no curtains or blinds on the windows, but it’s getting dark and I can’t really see what’s out there. There is beautiful designer furniture filling the room, and an impressive media wall.

The most impressive feature in the room, a wall made entirely of built in bookshelves, catches my eye and makes my heart leap. There are books and perfectly placed vases and picture frames with people I don’t know stylishly placed on each shelf. I’m in heaven at the idea of spending hours reading selections from this library.

I follow Claire down a short hall to the only room on the second floor. It is, like the rest of the house, absolutely beautiful. My room at Gram and Gramps’ was small
– big enough only for a single bed, a tall 5-drawer dresser, and a small desk. The chair to the desk barely fit between the bed and the desk itself, and the closet door never closed completely. This room is huge. There’s a white, four-poster queen-size bed with beautiful white bedding with blue flowers and green accents. The windows that face the front of the house are fitted with curtains that coordinate with the bedding perfectly. There is a white desk with a pale blue chair on one wall, and a wide dresser with six drawers and a mirror hanging above it, all also white, on the opposite wall. The room is painted the perfect shade of pale blue, although it probably has a trendier name. I imagine it’s called something like Pacific Ice. I love everything about this room.

“
I made some calls and had a friend come in and decorate. I hope you like it. It’s all yours. The closet is there, and the bathroom is the door next to it,” Claire says as she points to a door with a little porcelain sign on it that reads “The Toilet” in pretty script.

“It’s perfect. Thank you…so much.” I add the
so much
to let her know that I really do appreciate all she’s done to prepare a place for me on such short notice. My appreciation runs deeper than she may ever know. To say the introduction to my room at Gram’s was anticlimactic would be an understatement.

“Are you hungry? I can make something, or we can order Chinese. Do you lik
e Chinese food?” Claire asks.

“Whatever you want to do is great
, but Chinese is good.” I love it, actually. I’d had a standing date with my dad since I was nine. We got Chinese at this little hole in the wall near our house every Friday night for almost three years. They died on a Thursday. I haven’t had Chinese food since.

“Ok, then. I’ll order Chinese. Any requests?”

“Um…General Tso’s Chicken…if they’ve got it. If not, sweet and sour chicken? Thank you.” I can’t remember the last time someone asked me what I wanted for dinner. I feel like I’m in some parallel universe.

Claire nods and excuses herself. I survey the bathroom and closet. Both are a good size. I’m sure I don’t have enough toiletries or clothes to fill either room.  I unpack, putting delicates in the smaller drawers at the top of the dresser and quasi folding my other clothes into the rest of the drawers. I don’t really have a lot to hang in the closet. It looks pretty sparse even after I’m done hanging items I don’t usually hang. I put my suitcases in the closet and decide to take a shower before dinner. It’ll save me time later, and I could use the time in a hot shower to relax.

I throw on my pajamas – an old t-shirt of my dad’s and a pair of lounge pants – and go down stairs to find the kitchen. As I approach the swinging door I can hear Luke and Claire talking.

“Are you sure about this
?” Luke asks.

“Only time will tell,” Claire says softly. “I didn’t think I wanted this, but…whe
n she was standing there I looked in her eyes and…”

“I know…I saw it, too,” Luke agrees.

Saw what, my desperation?

I stand there on rickety legs, having to steel myself so I
don’t fall. They’re hesitant. I don’t hear anger and resentment in their voices like I did Grams. It’s more like…fear. There’s something different about their qualms. Maybe it’s just the idea of having their lives interrupted, but I will do everything I can to reassure them of their decision to take me in.

When I
push the door open the food has arrived and Luke and Claire are serving the plates. My plate has a generous helping of General Tso’s Chicken, which makes the corners of my mouth lift a little.

“So you found the towels in your bathroom
! Great! Was the shower ok?” Claire asks as if she’s looking for my approval. She’s got the situation flipped, but I tell her, “Yes, they were easy to find. Thank you. And the shower was great.” She’s straightened herself out and there are no signs of the distress I overheard a moment ago.

“We know this is…difficult,” Luke starts. “It’s hard for all of us, but I’m sure
the hardest for you. I know you were close with Gramps, and we want you to know that you can talk to us if you need to.” I don’t know if that is supposed to be my cue to talk, but I’m silent as I’m still considering the exchange I overheard. “Or…we can…find a counselor for you. Whatever you want.”

“Really, it’s ok. I’m fine. I appreciate you taking me in. I know you weren’t prepared to, and you’re not used to having kids around, so I’ll do my best to stay out of your way.” I’m overwhelmed by their generosity
, especially after hearing their hesitancy.

“You’re family, Layla. We honestly didn’t want it any other way. We’re overjoyed that you would want to live with us.” Claire has a way of speaking that is so fluid, like an
angel. It matches her stature.

Luke agrees with Claire and adds, “We hope that you’ll be happy here…with us. I’m sure it seems strange, being here and not knowing us
, but we’re really looking forward to getting to know you. Like Claire said: family.”

We make it through dinner with small talk about my few friends from back home, and Luke fills me in on the school I’ll be attending. Luke also tells me that they’ve already added me to their car insurance so I can use one of their cars to drive to school. Luke and Claire work at the same law firm and can ride together. Sometimes they work from home, so it will work out just fine. I don’t really know anything about cars, but what I do know is that it won’t be Gramps’ 1984 Buick. That hunk of metal was a real adventure to drive. Start? Not Start? Each day was a crapshoot.

“How about that tour?” Claire asks cheerily.

“That sounds good.”  I say as I take my dishes to the sink. I begin to do the dishes
out of habit but Claire stops me. I’m puzzled for a moment, but Claire insists and I do as I’m told.

Claire leads me through the house and I’m in awe with every step. The colors, patterns, and placement are meticulous.
There are warm browns and cool blues throughout the open living and dining rooms. “Your home is beautiful,” I say sincerely.

“She’s a natural. This place would be filled with milk crates, cinder blocks and plywood if I had anything to do with it,” Luke says with a smile as he joins us. He and Claire look at each other and smile as Luke wraps his arms around Claire’s waist from behind. It’s easy to see that they’re in love. I like that Luke dotes on Claire. Dad was like that with
Mom. I didn’t realize how much I missed that until now.

I yawn and Claire notices. “It’s been a long few days and we could all use the sleep.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help clean up in the kitchen? I really don’t mind.”

“Don’t worry
. The chores are coming,” Luke smirks and Claire gives him a playful jab in the ribs.

“I’m going to go to bed then. Thank you for dinner…and everything,” I say.

“Of course. That’s what family is for,” Luke says just as much with his piercing eyes as with his words. It’s in this moment, with this one honest look from Luke, that I know now that my gut has been right all along. I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

I’m exhausted but don’t sleep very well
. My eyes open in the early hours of morning. I want to go back to sleep and wish myself into a pleasant dream, but every time I close my eyes all that appears is terror. I’m not surprised. I certainly didn’t think that one night in this wonderland was going to make the nightmares end. At least my nightmares aren’t so unexpected like they are for other people. I can pretty much count on them.

I watch the darkness of early morning transform from dark blues to oranges and finally to streams
of bright light spraying through the crack in the curtains. When I see the clock reads 8:30 a.m. I give up and pull myself out of bed. I took a shower last night, so I
could
get dressed, but I want to leave dad’s t-shirt on a bit longer.

I pull my hair back into a ponytail, make my bed, and head downstairs. Before I reach the stairs I finally see what is beyond the wall of windows in the loft and I can’t believe my eyes. It’s like a dream. Not li
ke the kind I have, but the kind that make you look forward to sleep. The house sits at a perfect distance from a lake, separated only by a few dozen or so deliberately placed trees, with an equally perfect flagstone path cutting between them from the house to a private dock.  I approach the window in an attempt to get an even better view. As I step forward I see that it is just as breathtaking as my first look, and for some reason hope it’s the lake I saw yesterday. I’m overwhelmed by this amazing twist of fate. That the one place I felt true peace would be represented here is more than I could have ever asked for. I know it’s not the same as the beach, but it’s the closest I’m going to get and I’m happy to receive it.

Looking down from the window there’s a patio, or because it’s so big maybe it qualifies as a courtyard. I hadn’t taken enough notice last night during dinner to see which doors le
ad to this outdoor space, but I assume it’s off the kitchen. Luke and Claire are at the table eating breakfast so I redirect myself to join them. My exploration of the wall of books will have to wait until later.

When I get to the kitchen Claire is refilling their coffee mugs, still in her pajamas: a t-shirt and lounge pants. It is in this small commonality that I take one small step forward in feeling at ease here.

“Good morning,” I say in as chipper a tone as I can muster. My goal is to have a clear perspective today, so I want to have a good start, a clean slate.

“Good morning, Layla! Can I get you some breakfast? We’ve got eggs, bacon, fruit…anything sound good?” Claire asks cheerily.

“Actually, I’d love a Pop Tart…or some toast,” I say with some level of bravery. I once asked Gram for a Pop Tart and was swiftly told I wasn’t being appreciative of the time and effort she takes in providing a hearty most-important-meal-of-the-day.

“Got ‘em! Strawberry or Cherry?” she says joyfully having met my first need.

“Um…Strawberry. Thanks.” Amazing that a toaster pastry could bring me such joy.

“Luke’s out on the patio. Go ahead out,” she points to the French doors I hadn’t noticed last night. “I’ll bring your breakfast out in a minute. Would you like some coffee or orange juice?”

“Orange juice, thank you,” I say as I pull open the doors to the patio. The view is just as magnificent from here as it was from upstairs.  There’s a beautiful breeze blowing that rustles the leaves in the trees. I love this sound.

Luke sits with his back to the doors, facing the water, reading the newspaper. He must have heard me answer Claire as I opened the door because he addresses me directly.
             

“Good morning, Layla. How did you sleep?” he asks.

”Like a rock,” I lie.

“Great!” He folds the paper halfway down toward his chest so that he can see me.

“This view is amazing,” I say.

Luke smiles and takes in the view for a moment before responding, “Yeah, it’s pretty spectacular. That’s Lake Davidson. You should see it from the dock.”

“Do you have a boat?” Even though I’m not the best swimmer, I’m itching to be out on the water. I went a couple of times with a friend from school on her dad’s boat when Gram was feeling generous. It could have been being out on the water, or maybe it was just because I was away from home and acting my age, but I had the most incredible time.

“We used to.” His answer is slow and thoughtful. “What would you like to do today?” he
asks, bringing his attention back to me.

“Well, I’m not really sure. You’ve got a pretty impressive library up there. Do you mind if I borrow a book?” I don’t feel like going anywhere. There will be plenty of time for exploring later. I’ve got nothing but time.

“Of course not. It’s your library now, too. You can read anything up there. Although I doubt you’ll find the law books very interesting.” Luke seems different this morning. He’s lighthearted and open. Our conversation doesn’t feel forced like it did last night. This is the real Luke. He isn’t coddling me like Claire, not that I mind her treatment of me. It’s been so long since I’ve been on the receiving end of care that I’m not sure how to respond to her, but I appreciate Luke’s attempt to make my life here normal right from the beginning.