Page 2 of View With Your Heart

Still, I can’t take my eyes off the woman who spins and faces the building a second time. A hand at her brow shields her eyes, and it’s as if she looks up at me. For some reason, I wave. Her hand drops, and I chuckle to myself. I’m an idiot, and I’m relieved she didn’t see me.

Then her hand lifts, and a hesitant, short wave returns mine. My breath catches.

Again, it can’t be, can it?

Because if I could do any imprinting, it would be Britton McKay standing on that beach.

What would be the odds?

Considering this thought, a young boy runs across the sand to her, and she extends an arm to him. He looks older than a youth but not quite a teen. However, I’m not a good judge of ages. I’ll probably never have children. Zoey hadn’t wanted them, and I guess I hadn’t either.

Still, I’ve been thinking so much about family.

My sight follows the woman, wrapping her arm around the kid’s neck. He’s carrying a wakeboard in his hands, a favorite pastime of kids in the area. Surfing isn’t really a thing in these parts. He’s nearly as tall as the woman, and she presses a kiss to the side of his head. Quickly, he slips out from under her arm. Her head tips back as though she’s laughing as he runs off before her, drops the board, and skims a few feet in the inches-deep wave. He stumbles, and she bends forward, laughing harder.

I can’t remember the last time I laughed like that. Belly shaking. Eyes tearing. Full body immersed in the depths of something funny.

Again, I remember someone laughing just like that, and as much as I don’t think it’s a possibility, it seems undeniable.

Britton McKay is here.

Take 2

Scene: The Lake

[Britton]

Some afternoons, it’s nice to take a stroll through town after a busy day. Elk Lake City is wedged between the larger lake of Lake Michigan and a series of inner lakes, the closest of which is Elk Lake. The two are joined by a short, rapid river, and I cross the bridge over it to walk along the flowing water for a casual jaunt.

As I saunter, I reflect on my crazy day. My tea shop—TeasMe!—is doing well for a two-year-old business. Summer sales are better than I anticipated, and the additional help of Henry and Jenna has made all the difference. It’s my personal business that’s been a Ferris wheel of lifts and drops today. For one, Rebecca Sterling is at it again, wanting me to name a price on my uncle’s property.

“It isn’t for sale,” I told her for the five hundred-millionth time.

“Everything is for sale.”

She’s absolutely wrong. Some things you just can’t place a value on.

With this in mind, I’m grateful again for Henry. He suggested I leave early to take this momentary breather before picking up Gee. The pressure from the Sterling Realty company can be relentless, especially considering the weight of the unpaid tax bill on Leo’s property. Some days, I can handle Rebecca. Today was not one of those days.

Because the second issue of the day was recalling the film festival begins in the next town over, and I’ve seen the program announcing featured films. In big, bold, black, and white was the image of a man from my past who haunts me every day.

Gavin Scott.

I didn’t know he made movies as I hadn’t seen or heard from him in thirteen years. He’s also the last person I’d like to see. Of course, the chances of that happening is like the angsty moment in a movie, where you hope you’ll see all the hot passion play out between a couple only to have the film fade to black.

Ghosted.

That’s what happened when Gavin left me in a hotel room thirteen years ago.

Then again, I could be living that scene in a horror film where you’re screaming at the screen, telling the silly female not to open the door because a mass murderer is ready to stab her in the heart on the other side of the barrier.

It’d be the same sensation as Gavin’s absence.

Heartbreaking.

Taking a deep breath, I walk along the boardwalk, leading under the highway overpass and connecting to the inner lake’s boundary.

As soon as I hit a small beach area on the other side of the Rogue River bar, I kick off my shoes and wade along the lake’s edge. My toes wiggle through the water licking at them. Kicking up a spray of droplets, it’s refreshing, and instantly, I calm.