*
As soon as Wes arrived, Bulahdeen charged at him from the trail beside the lake and asked if he would set up the dance floor. Of course he agreed.
He remembered every summer weekend George would bring out the large squares and set them on the lawn and snap them together like a large puzzle. Wes had even helped him a few times. There had been live music on the weekends, and in the evenings Wes and Billy would linger in the woods to listen. Eby would put colorful Chinese lanterns in the trees and launch tiny boats with candles out into the lake. Those nights, more than most, they hadn’t wanted to go home. They’d just wanted to listen to the music and watch the people dance as lights twinkled, and imagine that this really was their home.
With Jack’s assistance, Wes brought out the floor squares from Eby’s storage room, and together they spent the better part of the afternoon putting them together. The damp had gotten to them, warping them in some places.
Wes caught sight of Kate a few times. She was wearing the same shorts and bright green tank top from when he’d seen her earlier at the restaurant, but now sweat was making the ends of her hair turn up in curls. She was obviously helping with housekeeping that day, taking towels and sheets back and forth to the cabins. He’d been so busy watching her that he’d once hammered his thumb with his mallet. Jack had given him an understanding look. Some women just make you forget yourself.
When they were done, Kate walked to the lawn to inspect their handiwork. She put her hands on her hips and nodded. “Very nice,” she said, which made Wes feel ridiculously proud of himself. Seriously, it was pitiful.
“We were going to put the canopy up but noticed that moths had gotten to it,” Wes said, gesturing to the folded canopy on the ground.
“I can mend it tonight,” Kate said. “Would you have time to come back tomorrow to help put it up?”
“Sure,” he said, and the thought of plans with her made tomorrow seem so far away. It had felt that way fifteen years ago too, when he couldn’t wait to see her in the mornings. He hadn’t been able to sleep, knowing that in just hours they could start their day over again. Past and present. The lines were getting muddy. “I’ll repair these grills tomorrow, too, and maybe sand some places on the picnic tables and benches so people won’t get splinters.”
Kate smiled at him, her eyes on his face, going to the scar above his eyebrow where his father had once hit him and Wes had fallen against the woodstove. When they were kids, he’d told Kate he’d gotten the scar rescuing a heron caught in some moss.
Evening began to fall, and Eby came out with hot dogs and hamburgers to grill. When she saw the dance floor, she shook her head. “I can’t believe Bulahdeen talked you into doing that.”
“It was my pleasure,” Wes said, realizing he hadn’t actually left the dance floor yet, like he was somehow holding court over it. “I loved watching the guests dance when I was a kid. Maybe I’ll dance on it myself this time. I always wanted to.”
“I like to dance,” Devin said. She’d been sitting with Bulahdeen all afternoon, knocking the cypress knee she held against the table absently as she stared at the water. She was restless, the way Kate used to get restless when it rained, like something was holding her back.
Wes held out his hand to her. “Then join me.”
Devin ran onto the dance floor, and they did some robot-style moves that made Kate laugh.
Selma was sitting at one of the picnic tables, watching them with detachment. “My second husband was a dance instructor. Did I ever tell you that?” she said to no one. She suddenly stood and took Jack by the hand. “Dance with me.”
“I don’t know how to dance, Selma,” Jack said, panicking.
“And they do?” she asked, gesturing to Wes and Devin.
“Hey,” Wes said, in mock offense.
Selma dragged Jack onto the floor and began to execute some complicated move that involved Jack putting his leg between hers and spinning her around.
Jack promptly fell and twisted his ankle.
Selma just stood there and looked at him, then she sighed at the injustice of it all and went to sit back down while everyone gathered around Jack.
“I’ll get some ice,” Eby said, rushing to the house. She returned with not only ice but Lisette. Lisette didn’t have on shoes, and her toenails were painted a surprising color of orange. Her dark dress was buttoned wrong, as if she’d hastily dressed, and through the missed buttonholes, some bright yellow lingerie could be seen. Her hair was pushed back with a headband, wet in some places, like she’d just washed her face. Everyone suddenly stood still. It was as if she was a wild animal who had lost her way and they didn’t want to startle her. Lisette never came out to the lawn at night.
They had gotten Jack’s shoe off by this time. Lisette took the ice pack from Eby and set it on Jack’s foot. She looked up at him worriedly, darting her head back frequently to look at the grills where the hot dogs and burgers were now sizzling.
“It’s okay,” Jack said. “It’s not broken. You go inside. I’ll be fine.”
Lisette looked relieved. She hurried back into the house as if the smoke from the grill were chasing her, as if she might just get sick from it.
The group helped Jack to his cabin, and they ended up having dinner in there with him. Even Selma joined them. She never exactly apologized, but she had gotten up and refilled Jack’s drink once, which everyone figured was as good as it got with Selma and contrition.
Later, color high from laughter, they all said good night to each other, and Wes helped Eby and Kate take the dishes and trash back to the main house. Eby went upstairs, and Kate and Wes walked back outside. The umbrella lights were now off, and Devin was trying to catch fireflies in the dark.
They stood side by side and watched her. Wes could feel Kate’s arm graze his. When he was twelve, this was what he had lived for, a brief touch from her—their legs as they sat on the dock, their hands as they both reached for something at the same time. He’d known she hadn’t felt the same way, not until that very last moment, just before she left. It had been floating around the lake for years now, that longing they’d left behind. But it too had grown. There was a different tenor to it now, something grittier, more lusty and heavy. He couldn’t deny that he had stared at her legs as she’d walked around today, studying the way they moved. She was small breasted, and after careful consideration, he was fairly certain that she didn’t wear a bra. He wondered what it would feel like to kiss her, what she tasted like with Bulahdeen’s wine on her lips. Things would never be as simple as they had been. And yet … here they were, barely touching, and he found himself thinking that he would be perfectly happy to stay here all night like this, with just the feel of her arm against his.
“Well, good night, Wes,” Kate finally said, her voice slightly breathy. “See you tomorrow.”
He nodded.
Kate called to Devin. “The alligator says good night, too, Wes!” Devin said as they walked away.
When Wes got into his van, he sat there for a moment.
This had been the best summer night he’d had in a long time, and it left him afraid that it was happening all over again, that he was going to fall in love and wish for a life he couldn’t make happen, because that life could only ever exist here for a single moment, with Kate.
Maybe it was for the best that Eby was selling, that he was getting rid of his own land. You can’t spend your whole life unhappy, just waiting for a moment of something perfect. Wes had already made his life into something good.
This was just a place.
And Kate was just a girl he’d once known.
He needed to let them both go.