Free Aftermath by Sandy Goldsworthy Page A

bucket seat next to Lewis. The water glistened in the sunlight off in the distance, until a boat’s wake disturbed it. I was me again, out on the lake. All those happy memories of my parents and summers at the Inn came flooding back. I was in my own little world when Lewis increased the speed in the open waters.  After Matt stored the ropes in pockets on the inside of the boat, he sat down beside me.
    He reached for my hand and smiled.
    “I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered in my ear.
    “Me, too.”
    I wanted things to be the same, but deep down, I knew everything between us was different. When I looked into his eyes, I could tell he felt it, too. We were silent most of the ten-minute ride to the Carmichael Inn. Matt held my hand, his thumb rubbing gently on my finger. I guessed he didn’t know what to say any more than I did.
    We rounded the point across from the island, and the Inn came into view.
    “That’s my aunt’s house,” I said to Matt, pointing to a row of similar houses with matching siding and trim.
    “Which one?”
    “Third from the left,” I proudly answered. “All the houses are part of the Inn. Most are rentals. Except my aunt’s.”
    When we neared the harbor, Lewis reduced the boat’s speed and Matt let go of my hand.
    “Is Melissa taking a Jet Ski back with you?” Matt asked. His eyes were somber, and I guessed knowing I was moving was just as hard on him as it was on me.
    “Can you come with me?”
    When he nodded, his eyes seemed to smile. He began pulling out the boat’s ropes and prepared to dock.
    The marina at the Inn was a friendly sight. Colorful shops lined the shoreline. Piers jutted into the water from a whitewashed boardwalk. There were enough slips to moor a couple of dozen boats at a time, and usually they were filled. The Carmichael Inn had great food, from the five-star restaurant to the Sports Pub ‘N Grill to the small stands on the beach that served Chicago-style hot dogs and deep-dish pizza slices.
    Aunt Barb and her late husband designed the lakefront shops similar to Disney’s Boardwalk, Dad once said. Of course, a very scaled-down version with a contemporary coffee bar, convenience store, newsstand, and sporting goods shop for boaters and guests. The shed at the end of the beach offered paddleboats and windsurfer boards, not to mention Jet Skis for rent.
    I never really thought about it before, but I guessed Aunt Barb was well off. I remembered Dad once saying she was taken care of financially. I looked around at everything labeled ‘Carmichael Inn’ and realized Dad was right.
    I was lost in thought when Lewis docked the boat, and Matt jumped onto the pier.
    A brown-haired guy in a boat nearby called to Lewis. The guy climbed out of his boat in a quick leap and shook Matt’s hand. Lewis similarly greeted the boy he called Drew.
    “Island party tonight. You comin’?” Drew asked. He looked to be our age, with a tan, lean chest. His hair was long on top and trimmed short on the sides and he wore faded swim trunks that looked like they’d seen better days. I wondered if he lived on the lake and spent his entire summer in the sun.
    “Wouldn’t miss it. I got some friends up, but we’re there, man,” Lewis answered with a smirk.
    “Matt, we missed you on the fourth,” Drew said. “Huge-Ass-Party. You’d have loved it.” Drew was shorter than Matt by several inches, but his posture made him seem taller. He held his chin upward at an angle when he spoke. I wondered if he knew TJ or Hannah and if he went to the high school I’d end up at. Someday.
    “I told him what he missed,” Lewis answered.
    Melissa rolled her eyes at me. That was the weekend she was on vacation with her family and before Matt and I started dating.
    “I’m having some people at the house tomorrow night. If you’re still in town.” Drew’s invitation was quiet and in a lower tone than before. I couldn’t help but wonder if he didn’t want Melissa and me to hear