The Secrets of Lake Road

“Oh, come on, Kevin. What could it hurt?” Sheila nudged him. “Do it for old time’s sake.”


Maybe it was the alcohol that had loosened him and made him soft, but before he knew how it had happened, he was sitting on a stool on the small stage, tuning the acoustic guitar, warming up his rusty voice. He adjusted the microphone and cleared his throat. Here goes nothing.

He started to sing, and the music moved through him as it had in the past, the rhythm familiar and comforting. He moved back in time, swept further away with every pluck of the strings. The crowd, if you could call it a crowd, hushed and turned to listen. He closed his eyes and lost himself in the lyrics, singing an old Goo Goo Dolls song, “Iris,” the one song that reminded him of Jo.

She had since returned to the bar, sitting on the same stool she had sat on all day. He didn’t have to look to know she was watching, listening. Her eyes burned through him. He kept singing, his fingers remembering every chord. The guitar felt good in his hands.

When he finished, the meager crowd clapped. Tony slapped him on the shoulder. “Beautiful,” he said.

Kevin put the guitar in the stand. The music had opened a place inside of him he had locked away a long time ago. He felt vulnerable and exposed, but more than that, he felt a raw need, a yearning so strong, it made his heart ache. He crossed the room to where Jo was sitting. Sheila was sitting next to her. He lifted Jo’s chin and kissed her full on the mouth, needing her now more than ever.

She pushed him hard in the chest. He stumbled backward, confused at first, thinking his actions must’ve taken her by surprise. But then he realized she was looking around to see if anyone had noticed he had kissed her. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as though she couldn’t stand to have any part of him touch her.

“Goddammit, Jo.” He turned and strode for the door.

He didn’t make it halfway down the stairs when he heard her call his name. He kept walking, lengthening his stride. The night air was cool on his back. His hands were fisted by his sides. Even now she continued to make him feel the fool.

“Kevin, wait.” She chased after him, catching up to him a third of the way across the parking lot. She grabbed his arm and spun him around. “Stop,” she said. “Please.”

“Why, Jo? Why should I bother?”

Her face was flushed, and she had that crease between her eyebrows she got whenever she was angry. But there was something else in her eyes, a flame he recognized.

“Who are you afraid is going to see us together?” He glanced at the lake. A spotlight from a lone fishing boat drifted across the water, the beam reaching as far as the parking lot, the light crossing them at the knees. It was as though he was reliving the nightmare for the second time. Back then he had to stay away from her to protect her, to protect their secret. But things were different now. The little girl drowning had nothing to do with them, and yet it had everything to do with them. If it weren’t for the girl, they never would’ve found those bones. He grabbed Jo’s arms and pulled her to him.

“Billy’s dead, Jo,” he said. “And you’re my wife. My wife.” He couldn’t help himself; he kissed her again, hard, smashing her nose and scraping her teeth with his.

She struggled, twisting her shoulders, trying to free her arms. The more she fought, the more aroused he became. He pulled her closer, her breasts pressed against his chest. He forced his leg between her thighs. She bit his lip.

The sudden pain made him loosen his grip. She punched his chest with her fists and shoved and pushed him until their bodies separated. They both were breathing hard, staring at each other.

“Asshole.” She lunged at him, knocking him in the shoulder.

He didn’t fight back. They had been here before. They had played this game before. Instead he brought his hand to his bottom lip, his fingers coming away bloody.

By the time he looked up again, she was on him. She grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him as hungrily as he had kissed her. He grasped the back of her neck and placed his hand on her low back, crushing her to him. She reached between his legs.

“Oh God,” he moaned.

They stumbled to the edge of the parking lot, kissing and fumbling with their clothes. To hell if anyone was watching. He wanted someone to see him have her. He lifted her up and pinned her against the thick trunk of an old maple tree. He clutched a handful of her hair and yanked her head back, kissing and biting her throat. She wrapped her legs around his waist, opening herself wide for him. He pushed deep inside of her, letting her take him to a place only she could take him.

They clung to each other, their bodies slick and warm. His legs felt weak with exhaustion. She sobbed against his chest. He was spent, used, wondering how their love brought out the best and worst in him, how something so sweet could taste like poison.