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“Less than a lot,” she replied.
“Lucy.” His expression turned serious. “We’ll catch some fish. You’ll conquer your fear.”
Uncertain, she nodded. “I haven’t been on a boat in over a decade.”
The anxiety she was experiencing at the moment didn’t paralyze her, so she had definitely made progress. Yes, a fishing trip to the lake was a step toward her future, a move she found herself ready to make.
“We don’t have to do this.”
Why did he have to be so nice? Couldn’t he be a little bit of a jerk so it’d be easier to stay away?
“I want to.” She did. Really, she did. This whole excursion illustrated her commitment to forward momentum. She smiled tentatively.
He reached out to her and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear before the damn dimples dented into his cheeks.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Cameras set once again, cabin secured, Lucy and William evacuated to the lake like the normal honeymooners they were not.
The fish weren’t biting at Twin Lakes, but Lucy had gotten into a boat and hadn’t had a panic attack. That was huge.
The last time she’d been on a boat was at her tenth birthday party. Her father had rented a large yacht for the day. It would be a year before her parents started the on-again, off-again nonsense that had marked her adolescence.
Lucy was a fourth grader with zero confidence. The other kids were cruel. They called her “Caterpillar” because her thick eyebrows looked a little like caterpillars. Her mother refused to let her tweeze them into submission. Brooke Shields and Audrey Hepburn had eyebrows like Lucy’s—that’s what her mother insisted. Lucy would bet a tub of hot wax that Brooke and Audrey never got called Caterpillar because of them.
Lucy hated everything. The eyebrows. Her clothes. The nickname.
But nothing could mar her birthday because she wore a gorgeous dress and, for once, the world revolved around her. As the children arrived with armloads of gifts, she could feel, absolutely feel, her luck change.
The birthday song was sung, cake distributed, and Lucy sat at the head of the table with Italian buttercream icing smudged on her lips, her feet swinging. The chaperones disappeared to do whatever it was adults did. To her left sat Grant McFarland with freckles and light brown hair.
He scarfed his own slice of cake. Then he ruined everything.
“Caterpillar, don’t you think you’ve had enough? You’ll be even bigger if you keep eating,” he taunted.
Her cheeks heated with embarrassment. Tears stung her eyes.
At the end of the day, as the kids disembarked on the pier, her parents packed up all the party things. Jayden and his crew of boys waited for their parents. Her mother insisted Lucy stay with them, as a good hostess should.
“Caterpillar, climb down that ladder. Betcha can’t touch the water.” Mischief clouded Evan Powell’s eyes when he spoke.
“Can, too,” she replied.
“Let’s see it then,” he challenged.
Lucy gripped the pier and, still in her party dress, climbed down the four rungs to the edge of the water.
“Dip your toe in,” Even commanded.
Lucy dipped the edge of her ballet flat to the surface of the ocean. Then she moved her foot back to the rung, but it snagged the hem of her skirt. Holding on with one arm, she moved her other hand to push the fabric away. Her foot slipped, and she fell backward into the salty darkness. She kicked to the surface, but her leg tangled in some wire, and she couldn’t reach.
The water overwhelmed her. Her lungs burned as she held her breath for what felt like forever.
One of the workers on the dock pulled her free. Her parents were livid. The ruined dress clung to her while her father ranted.
“Stupid Caterpillar,” Evan had murmured as he walked away.
Stupid Caterpillar reverberated through time and burst into the present, encroaching on this latest excursion. Lucy’s reflection from Twin Lakes reassured her the hair and the acne were long gone. The emotional scars?
