Page 28 of The Last Thing You Said

I’m about halfway to the park when I reach a group of trees that Trixie and I used to climb, years ago, when our parents first let us walk here by ourselves.

I look around and find a handful of rocks, most about the size of a softball, and I stack them near one of the tree trunks. The top stone topples and I start again, changing the order of the rocks until they’re all balanced.

Satisfied, I hoist myself up into a crook of one of the trees. I lean against the trunk and reach into my pocket to switch off my phone.

I can’t think of a better place to sleep off my hangover.

15 · Lucy

I don’t see Simon much the next couple of days after our “date,” and I do my best to avoid Ben at the resort. But on Saturday morning I walk into John and Tami’s kitchen and he’s there.

He’s sitting at the table. It’s late—he shouldn’t be here. He should already be out on the lake or mowing the lawn or fixing a dock. Something. He lowers his head. I sit down next to Emily.

“Well,” I say, “what’s in store for today?”

“Boat!” she cries. “Let’s go out in the boat. Can we, Daddy?”

“Sure,” John says.

“Ben, would you mind taking them out?” Tami asks.

I’m not sure how the rest of the conversation goes, because all I hear is the roaring in my ears after Tami asks Ben to take us out fishing.

I don’t want this. I don’t want to spend the morning on a boat in the middle of the lake with Ben. This is the worst thing that could happen. I can’t escape him when we’re out on the lake together.

Tami sets a plate of bacon and scrambled eggs in front of me. “Eat something before you go out.”

“We shouldn’t bother Ben, Emily,” I say, the words scratchy. “I don’t want to keep him from his work.”

“It’s no bother.” I’m surprised to hear Ben’s voice. “I’ll get the boat ready while you finish your breakfast.”

Ben gets up so fast he almost knocks the chair over. I know that the boat’s ready. It’s always ready. He wants to get out of here, alone, before he has to suffer with me.

I take my time with breakfast while Emily finishes the red grapes on her plate. When I’m done, I get a washcloth from the bathroom and clean Emily’s face and hands.

“You’ll need your hair up so it doesn’t blow in your face,” I say, and she brings me her comb and a ponytail holder. Next we put on sunscreen. I drag the process out as long as possible, imagining Ben at the dock, doing whatever he needs to do as slowly as possible, too.

“You’re so patient with her,” Tami says as she loads the dishwasher. “No wonder she adores you so much, Lucy.”

“Thanks,” I say, but my face burns. If she only knew the real reason behind my patience today.

Emily declares herself ready. She has a bag with snacks—a juice box, fruit strips, and cheese crackers shaped like little birds—and two Fancy Nancy books. I grab my sunglasses and my phone, and we walk down the stone pathway to the dock.

My heart does its absurd little flutter when I catch sight of Ben standing on the dock talking to Tom, his dad. I’ve done a pretty good job of avoiding Tom this summer, too. He sees us, and I put my hand up in a tiny wave. Emily skips down the rest of the path and leaps into Ben’s arms.

“Thank you for taking us out on the boat, Ben,” she yells.

I catch up with her on the dock. Tom hands me a life vest and Ben fastens a small one on Emily.

“Hey there,” Ben’s dad says to me, “it’s nice to see you.” He doesn’t call me Lulu.

I nod, but can’t find my voice. I take a deep breath and step off the dock into the boat. I teeter a bit—it’s been almost a year since I’ve gone out on the lake.

Ben reaches out and grabs my elbow to steady me, but I wrench my arm away.

“Please don’t touch me,” I whisper, but he’s already crossed the boat to the driver’s seat. I don’t know if he heard me or not.

This is how I get through a miserable morning on the lake: I talk to Emily. Nonstop. If she isn’t talking, I am. I begin by narrating our surroundings, which sets Emily off on a string of questions about trees and loons and fish and the weather that will easily occupy my time.