6
Minutes later, from the shop across the street, Wes Patterson watched a tall young woman walk out of the Fresh Mart. Her brown hair was a mass of short layers that, as she walked, fell loosely into her eyes. She pushed it away with her fingers, stopping to look around the circle as she did so. For a moment, staring into the distance, her hand holding her hair back, she had that look people often have on the beach, looking out into the expanse of the ocean. Like she couldn’t believe there was just so much in front of her. She seemed a little lost. But she smiled and turned when the bag boy from the Fresh Mart said something to her. She opened the hatchback of a green Subaru, and the bag boy placed a large box of groceries inside for her. She tipped him, then helped an old lady carrying several bottles of wine into the passenger seat.
Her hair had been longer that summer when they were kids, the dark color an amazing contrast to her eyes, which were the exact bright green of summer morning grass. He couldn’t stop staring. He’d recognized her immediately. He’d often wondered if he would, if he ever saw her again. She was older, of course, with curves and angles that newly fascinated him because they hadn’t been there before. But he’d still know Kate anywhere. She’d given him the best summer he’d ever had, which he could never think of without thinking about the worst time in his life, which had come directly after.
She had a child with her. She didn’t look much like Kate, but the girl was undoubtedly her daughter. There was just something so Kate about her. She was exactly the child he imagined Kate would have had.
What was she doing here, after all this time? He began to feel vaguely uncomfortable, like that moment you first realize you’ve lost your wallet. He actually reached back to feel if he still had his wallet in his back pocket and if his keys were still in the front.
She was with two guests Wes remembered from his years at the lake. That meant she was here to see Eby and it had nothing to do with him or the letter. That should have made him feel better, but it only made him more restless.
“Now that is a fine-looking woman,” the older man sitting beside him at the counter said, having followed Wes’s gaze out the large front window.
“She’s a little young for you, don’t you think?” Wes asked.
“Not the mother. The redhead,” he said, watching Selma open the back car door and wait for the child to climb in first. Selma hesitated, as if knowing she was being watched. She smiled slightly, then ducked into the car, lifting her skirt high as she pulled her bare legs in last, giving them a show. “I’ve always had a thing for redheads.”
“Has Deloris changed her hair color?” Wes asked the man.
“No, she’s still a brunette,” he said, taking one last bite of the slice of ham-and-pineapple pizza in front of him. He wiped his mouth on a greasy paper napkin, then tossed it onto the counter. “I’ll be at the Water Park Hotel with Deloris and the girls for a few days. The lawyer is coming this weekend with the paperwork. I’m glad to be doing business with you, son. We’re going to do great things with that property.” He held out his hand.
Wes stared at the man’s puffy hand for a moment before he said, “We’ll shake on it when Eby sells.”
He smiled. “Fair enough.”
As his uncle walked away, Wes called, “Maybe we can all get together some time, you and me and Deloris and the girls. It would be nice to catch up.”
“Right, right,” Lazlo said without looking back. “We’ll see what happens.”
Wes watched as his uncle walked outside, batting at the air around his head as if an invisible plague of insects had just descended upon him. Once in his Mercedes parked at the curb, he took a handkerchief out of his trouser pocket and patted his unnaturally smooth face and neck with it.
Across the street, the Subaru was now gone.
“You’re making a deal with the devil.” An old man with a grizzly beard stuck his head out of the kitchen. It was Grady, the cook. He was sure to have been listening all this time. Everyone in the small restaurant, which was still decorated in early eighties pizza-chic from its previous incarnation as a pizzeria arcade, had been listening, leaning forward in their seats, speaking in hushed tones, their ears turning like owls’ heads. This was bound to reach Eby soon.
“I know,” Wes said, gathering his and Lazlo’s plates and napkins from the window counter before one of the waitresses could do it. “But there’s no reason for me to hang on to that land if Eby sells. My property is in the middle of her lake property. The only way it’s worth anything is in connection to hers.”
“I still can’t believe she’s selling,” Grady said, shaking his head. “That place is an institution.”
“Eby has helped a lot of people in this town over the years. If she wants to leave, if that’s what she really wants to do, we should support her. Lost Lake isn’t making money anymore.”
“We should have supported her a long time ago, if it’s come to this.” Grady squinted his tiny brown marble eyes. “Can you imagine what Lost Lake will look like when it’s developed? When your uncle built the water park and outlet mall, it completely changed the landscape north of the interstate. You’ll keep him from doing too much damage this time, won’t you?”
“Change is good, Grady.” Wes handed him the plates.
The front door opened, and a young woman with a blond ponytail entered. “Well, it’s official,” Brittany announced dramatically. “I just heard it from her niece. Eby is selling Lost Lake.”
“We know,” Grady said. “We just heard, too. Wes is selling his property to the same developer.”
“I’m depressed,” Britt said, taking a seat at a nearby table. “I’ll never have another boy take me out there. I’m never going to get married at this rate. Wes, let’s make a pact. If we’re not married by the time we’re thirty, let’s marry each other.”
Wes laughed. Britt always flirted with him between boyfriends. For some reason, she seemed to consider him an odd sort of backup plan. Probably because he was nearby, one of only a few people their age who didn’t go to work at the water park or outlet mall or who hadn’t left town altogether. “I’m going to reach thirty long before you do.”
“I’ll be ready.”
“Stop waiting, Britt. Go out there and get what you want.”
“That’s what I’m doing! I just asked you to marry me.”
“I’m not what you really want,” Wes said, patting her shoulder as he walked by her to the door that led to his garage below the restaurant. “I’ll be out at Lost Lake if anyone needs me.”
As he left, he heard Britt say, “I need cheese. Eby’s having a farewell party on Saturday at the lake. I think I’ll go, and kiss my youth good-bye.”
“You say she’s having a farewell party?” Grady asked. “Now that’s a good idea. I’ll whip up some chicken wings to bring.”