3
Laiyla
Joy floods me as I hug KT and Chloe back hard. “Oh my God, it’s so good to see you two.”
Over the last seven years, we’ve texted, emailed, spoken on the phone, and done a few video chats, but our schedules were all over the map—literally. We all seemed to be in different countries. My and KT’s schedules were the hardest to work around, but we all made sacrifices to make sure we were together for our thirtieth birthdays, anniversary number seven of the cyclone that brought us together.
And now all my plans for a relaxing country getaway have been ruined.
“Looks like you went overboard,” KT says, taking in my wet hair and clothes.
“I was on that pier, and it collapsed under me.”
“Fun times.” Her gaze strays to the lake and Levi’s boat, now headed the other direction. “Who was that hot hunk of man?”
“He’s just a local,” I lie. Levi could never be just anything. “He picked me up, so I didn’t have to swim so far.”
Chloe and KT look out at the lake, both wearing big smiles.
“This place is amazing,” Chloe says.
“Gorgeous,” KT agrees.
“Yeah, about that… I’ve got some bad news.” The words bring back the shock of losing Grandpa’s house, all the memories it held now buried under tons of dirt. It cuts deep, and I know it will take a long time to heal that wound. I’m also embarrassed as hell that I talked this place up only to have it turn out to be little more than a dive. “I just found out that my grandpa’s house, the one we were going to stay in, was demolished by a mud slide a couple of years ago.”
Their pretty faces go slack with shock, then tight with concern. “Oh, no.”
I laugh at the way we all still seem to say the same things at the same time, but the effort hurts. “I was really looking forward to being on the lake, but I guess we’ll have to get a hotel. Or we could do something totally different, like hit Santa Barbara and stay on the beach.”
KT hooks a thumb at the Marina behind us. “Are these your grandfather’s houseboats?”
“They are.”
“Can’t we just stay here?”
Chloe’s face lights up. “I love that idea.”
“Oh, wow, I don’t know,” I say. “This place has really gone downhill since my grandpa passed. It used to be so amazing.”
And I’m so disappointed I won’t be able to show them what it was really like, how magical this place could be when it was running at full capacity.
“I’ve seen worse.” KT prowls the dock, peeking into the window of a houseboat. “And I’ve been sharing seventy square feet of living space for almost a decade. One of these would feel like a mansion.”
“I’ve been sleeping on a cot in a silent monastery for the last two months. So, this feels luxurious to me too.”
“A what?” KT and I say at the same time.
“Long story.” She claps and bounces on her flip-flop-clad toes. “Let’s pick. Are any big enough for all of us?”
I let out a long exhale. Squeezing into one of these boats wasn’t what I had in mind. “If you’re sure this is where you want to stay, I’ll call the guy who’s supposedly been taking care of this place—not—and see if he knows more about the boats.”
KT and Chloe insist, so I call Mr. Artega, who says he’ll be here in fifteen minutes. I’m tempted to call my parents and dig into them, too, but I save that for later, when I get a minute to myself. I’ve experienced enough humiliation for one day.
I join KT and Chloe in the car they rented after meeting at SFO. They’ve opened a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Chunky Monkey—they evidently stopped at a store in town before coming here—and KT hands me a plastic spoon from where she’s stretched out in the back seat.
I scoop up a spoonful from the offered pint, then relax into the passenger’s seat, suddenly exhausted from all the stress I’ve endured in such a short amount of time. My gaze scans the lake, and I tell myself I’m not looking for Levi. Another rush of mortification swims through my veins. Serves me right for trying to fake bravado instead of just being a normal person. I just…I wasn’t expecting to see him, wasn’t expecting him to be centerfold-worthy, wasn’t expecting to be hit with the news of Grandpa’s house.
“How were your flights?” I ask, eager to distract myself from the discomfort.
“Good,” they say at the same time.
“I’m tired, though.” KT licks her spoon and looks at Chloe. “You must be too. Where in the hell were you? I can’t keep track.”
“Tibet,” she says as if it weren’t somewhere exotic where most people have never been. “Where did you get off your ship?”
“Estonia.”
“I don’t even think I could find that on a map,” I say, searching my mind to place the country.
“Across from Finland,” she says.
“You’re both so exotic. Since I took the job heading up the western hemisphere, I haven’t gotten to go anywhere new. I’m thinking that wasn’t such a good move for me. I miss Europe.”
“Transfer back?” KT asks, scraping the last of the ice cream from the carton.
I think of my parents and all the complaining I’d have to suffer through if I told them I wanted to go back to my previous job. I wouldn’t put it past them to create red tape to slow me down. “Complicated.”
“Everything with your parents is complicated.” KT doesn’t hold much back. She never has. And after being tiptoed around because I’m the boss’s daughter, I always find her directness refreshing.
“So true.”
The sound of a car’s engine nears and a beat-up Mercedes chugs into the parking lot. We all get out of the car and meet Mr. Artega between the vehicles. He’s aged dramatically since I was here last, but haven’t we all? He used to be the janitor at Levi’s high school, and I met up with him a time or two when Levi and I would go ride bikes or skateboard there during the summer.
He’s always been small in stature, but now he’s also stooped with age, and I feel like I tower over him at five foot seven. I stuff my frustration over the condition of the property. This isn’t the right time to bring it up, and he’s not exactly in good enough health to keep up the marina and all its needs, which means it’s really my father who made this mistake. Or me for trusting my father. Hardly a surprise.
“Well, look at you,” he says, his moustache twitching as he speaks. “Didn’t you grow up pretty.”
I smile and shake his hand. “I don’t want to keep you, so I’ll get right to it. My friends and I would like to stay on the houseboats for the week, and I wanted to know which ones are fit for visitors.”
His bushy salt-and-pepper brows drop into a V. “Oh, well, now.” He turns toward the marina. “I don’t know. Let’s take a look.”
He moves slow and talks a lot about nothing, but the three of us follow him onto the main dock, where houseboats are lined up on either side.
He points to the first boat on the right. “Mabel Ann, here, she’s full of mold on accounta the leak in the roof.” He gestures left and ticks off three boats. “Linda Mae, Suzie Q, and Cora Lynn got electrical problems. You don’t wanna be foolin’ with no electrical problems on the water.” He points at two more boats on the right. “Sally Jean and Norma Claire ain’t got no furniture, so they won’t work for ya.”