The Long Journey to Jake Palmer (11 page)

A
t nine the next morning, Peter strode into the living room wearing dark blue swim trunks, a gray tank top, and a big grin. He jangled the key to the boat they'd rented for the week and bobbed his head and body like a six-foot-five slinky.

“The water is calling our names and everything on the menu is available. Wakeboarding, skiing, tubing, knee boards—they're all lined up like little soldiers ready to take orders, but they won't wait forever and neither will I. So let's lock and load. Who's with me?”

Susie laughed. “Gotta love Peter's mixed metaphors.”

“I'm in!” Camille shot her arm up, rose to her feet, and did a jig.

“There's two, it's me and you, baby.” Peter pointed at Susie. “Sooz, you don't wanna lose. Right?”

“No, don't want to lose.” Susie grinned, then pointed at Andrew. “But this big lug suggested we go on a quick stroll up the road a ways and”—Susie affected her best Godfather voice—“ ‘it's an offer I can't refuse.' But by the time you get the boat in the water and take someone for a run, we'll be down there and ready to roll.”

Andrew grabbed Susie and pulled her close. “I love this woman. Have I ever told you guys that?”

Peter gave an exaggerated shake of his hand and pointed at Susie and Andrew. “Okay, Susie. You get second run. Andrew, you're number three. Right? Am I right or am I right?”

“Yeah! You're right, Pete.” She gave her own hand the same rapid shake and wiggled her finger as she pointed it at him.

“You're mocking me, Susie.”

“Yes, of course I am. 'Cause I love you, Peter.”

Camille put her hands on her hips and nodded at Ari. “You want to come, Ari?”

Ari shrugged. “Sure.”

Peter flashed two thumbs up. “Great. You'll love it as long as you don't let Jake drive the boat. You've heard of the
Titanic
, right?”

Jake rolled his eyes. Peter grinned and tossed the keys at him. Jake caught them with one hand.

“Did I say I was going?”

“You didn't have to. I know you're in.” Peter grabbed the air with both hands like he had hold of a wheel. “Faster than a speeding hydro? Stronger than a double-thick ski rope? Able to leap over struggling wakeboarders with a single bound?”

“That's funny. I'm busting.”

“All joking aside, Clark, there's no one here better at driving the boat, and I'm not going out there by myself with two women. They'd be tempted to toss my body to the sharks and never look back.”

“No problem.” Jake stood and jerked his thumb toward his room. “Let me go change and I'll meet you down there.”

By the time they launched the boat, Susie and Andrew had finished their walk and all six were gathered in the boat and on the dock. Peter stood at the back of the boat checking the ski rope for knots and called out their next moves.

“Okay, here's the order. Ari goes first.” He looked at her. “House rule. Since you've never been to one of our annual get-togethers, you have the honorary position of being first to cut up the glass.”

“I don't need to—”

“Oh, I get it. A rule breaker. In the office you follow protocol, but out here you think it's the Wild West, huh? Wow, life on the lake gets craaaazy.”

“No, Peter, I wouldn't want anyone to think I'm a rebel.” She laughed and glanced at Jake.

“Excellent.” Peter turned to Susie and Andrew. “Then like we talked about: Susie, then Andrew, then Camille, then me. If anyone wants to go again, we'll repeat the cycle. We all good with that?”

As Ari slipped into a life jacket, then wrestled her feet into the boots of a red and gold wakeboard as she sat on the back of the boat, Jake clambered into the ski boat and adjusted the rearview mirror. His attempt to ignore how perfect Ari looked with her hair pulled back and the sun dancing on her tanned skin failed miserably. He had to knock it off. He wasn't going there. Forget it.

“Jake? Hello?”

Peter was staring at him. “What?”

“You doing a Walter Mitty on me again? This is like the third time since we got here.”

“No, just . . .”

“Then let's go. Ari is starting to freeze.”

Jake jerked his head back and found Ari bobbing in the water. He started the boat, adjusted the mirror once more, and called back to Ari. “When you're ready, just tell me to—”

“Hit it!” Ari grinned and Jake didn't hesitate.

He pushed down halfway on the throttle as he looked in the boat's rearview mirror. Ari struggled for a few seconds but finally popped out of the water and smoothly shifted her board straight ahead, but her weight was too far forward and she went over the front of the board. Jake shoved the throttle all the way down and turned the wheel hard to the right. The boat whipped around till it faced Ari.

“You okay?”

“Stupid move.” She grabbed the rope as it trailed by her. “Ready when you are.”

She again popped out of the water after fighting for a bit and again went down seconds later, this time because she was leaning too far back.

Jake wheeled around a second time and when he reached her said, “Do you want to be done?”

Ari pressed her lips together so hard they turned white. She gazed up at him and shook her head, eyes like coal.

“Can I give you a thought? Just a quick reminder?”

Again she didn't speak, but did give a quick nod.

“You don't want the board vertical coming out of the water. You'll end up pulling against the whole lake that way. Keep it at a forty-five-degree angle. That means the edge of the board will be underwater as you come up, but that's okay. And don't try to stand up, let the boat pull you up.”

Ari nodded again as she stared at the water right in front of her.

Jake shifted the boat into drive and eased forward slowly till the ski rope went taut. Then he pulled the throttle back into neutral and glanced in the mirror. “Ready?”

“Hit it!”

This time Ari went from being immersed in the water to riding on top of it in three seconds.

“Weight back, weight back . . .,” Jake muttered to himself and Ari complied.

She leaned to the right and the board sliced over the wake out onto the smooth water. She let go with one hand and brushed her dark hair off her face. The fierce frown she'd worn for the past five minutes slowly turned into a soft smile and Jake flashed a thumbs-up. For the next ten minutes she sailed back and forth across the wake. No tricks, nothing spectacular, but her cuts were smooth and it was obvious the blood of a natural athlete flowed through her veins. A few minutes later she let go of the rope. Her momentum slowed and she sank into the water.

“Nice run, Ari.” Peter leaned over the edge of the boat and gave her a thumbs-up after they spun around to pick her up.

Jake cut the motor and said, “More than nice. I wish someone had been taking pictures. A couple of your cuts were beautiful.”

Ari smiled as she pulled her feet out of the wakeboard and pushed it toward the boat. Peter snagged it out of the water and lifted the board into the boat.

“My turn,” Camille announced.

She slipped on a yellow life jacket and then a pair of red
waterskiing gloves. By the time Ari clambered back into the boat, Camille had both feet in the board and had laced up the boots.

Peter glanced at Camille, turned to Jake, and whispered, “Did I miss something, or was the plan to go back to the dock for Susie?”

“You didn't miss anything.” Jake stared at the smooth water in front of the boat.

“Camille?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Susie has the next run. Then you.”

“Look at where we are, Peter.” Camille threw up her hands. “We're in the middle of the lake. It would take at least five minutes to get back there.”

“Two.”

“Five, two, whatever. I'm just thinking it makes sense for me to go on the way back. I promise you, Susie will not care.”

Peter wore the plastered smile Jake had grown to hate. Once again, Camille was going to do what Camille was going to do. Ten seconds later she bobbed in the lake gripping and regripping the handle of the rope.

Jake started the boat, eased forward, and called out over his shoulder, “Ready?”

“I've been ready. What are you waiting for? Hit it!”

Jake gripped the throttle of the boat harder than necessary and pushed it down. The engine surged and Camille popped out of the water. She cut hard to the right and shot over the wake onto the glassy surface of the lake. After a regrip of the handle, she cut back over the wake and launched herself three feet into the air and made a perfect landing on the other side.

“Wooooooooooo! I've still got it!” Camille thrust one arm into the air and grinned.

For the next ten minutes Camille continued to jump the wake, shift from one foot forward to the other foot forward with little effort, and congratulate herself on each move. The performance was impressive. As they approached the area where they'd started the run, Camille let go of the rope, slowed, and finally sank into the water, both arms thrust above her head.

Jake cranked the boat to the left and circled back to pick her up.

“That was a sweet run. Thanks, Jake. Great driving.”

“No problem.”

Camille freed herself from the board, swam back to the boat, and climbed aboard. She unbuckled her life jacket, still breathing hard as she stood dripping water onto the floor of the boat. She looked down at Ari and said, “Not bad, huh?”

Ari nodded.

“But you were good too.” Camille held out her fist and Ari bumped it with her own but turned her gaze away immediately.

Peter took Camille's life jacket and tossed it toward the front of the boat. “Hey, Jake, let's go grab Susie.”

“I'm so sorry that took longer than I thought it would.” Camille tapped her head and laughed. “Stupid me, I should have realized I'd stay up for a while.”

Jake stared at Camille wishing the woman would work on her acting skills. She wasn't sorry at all. Her behavior would be much easier to take if he could at least doubt what she was doing. He started the boat and turned to Ari.

“You really looked good out there. How long has it been since you've been up on a board?”

“A few summers back.”

“Do you wakeboard a lot?”

“I've been a couple of times.”

“How many?”

“I don't know, three or four.” Ari bit her lip and studied the blue carpet on the floor of the boat. “Something like that.”

“Which is it, three or four?”

“Three.”

“Three? You've gotta be kidding me. Only three?” Jake frowned and locked his eyes on Camille. “Once you got up, Ari, you looked like you've been on a board for years.”

Ari nodded but didn't respond.

“I'd say that's some amazing natural talent, wouldn't you, Camille? I think we can say that Ari has got it, and is getting more of it, don't cha think?”

Camille tilted her head to the side in disgust, and Jake let it drop.

A few minutes into their run back to the dock, Ari looked at Jake and said, “Peter didn't mention you taking a run.”

“Nah.” Jake forced out a smile. “I'm the designated driver today.”

“I see.”

Jake ignored Ari's penetrating gaze. For the next two and a half hours he drove without looking at her once. At least not head-on. His peripheral vision wasn't as cooperative.

Finally, he and Peter dropped everyone off at the dock, and Jake turned the boat in the direction of the boat launch at the east
end of the lake. Peter waited only a few seconds before asking the question Jake had expected all day.

“You want to take a run, Clark?”

“I'm good.”

“Ari's going to be up at the house, I doubt she's going to bring out the binoculars and watch you.”

“I said I'm good.”

“A quick run. Down at the other end of the lake. West end. We'll stay there, take you on a lightning-fast run, okay?”

Jake stared at Peter. “Just between us. We don't tell anyone about it.”

“Done.” Peter motioned for Jake to step aside and took the wheel. “You get ready, I'll get us there. We'll be back to the boat launch before anyone suspects anything.”

“Good.”

“You want to tell me why you don't want anyone to know if you go for a ski?”

“Because someone will say how cool it was that I went, then ask if my legs feel okay, and then Ari will have a whole lot of questions that I'd rather not answer.”

“Got it.”

Peter threw the throttle down. Four minutes later they reached the end of the lake. Two minutes after that Jake was in the water telling himself what a stupid, glorious idea this was.

“Hit it!”

Jake bit down hard on his lower lip and ignored the pain that shot through his legs like a blade. By the time his ski was on plane, both his legs were on fire. Horrible thought but the perfect
analogy. He focused on the unbroken water to his right, leaned in, and a second later his ski was skimming over the surface of the lake. He drew a full breath into his lungs and cut back as hard as he could toward the wake. Three quick bumps and he was on the other side getting ready to carve another turn and throw up another wall of water.

Exhilaration surged through him and masked the pain for a moment, and then another, as he pushed into one turn after the other. He was back. If only for a few minutes, he had returned to the rush of pushing his body to its limit and feeling the joy of streaking across the water at fifty miles an hour. After three more turns the pain in his legs won and he dropped the rope. As he watched Peter slow and circle back toward him, sorrow and joy battled in his heart. The rush of being himself again fought the knowledge that he could only live in his former glory for fleeting moments in time.