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I shrugged. "It's been a while. And, even then, it wasn't all the time or anything. Just whenever I felt like it. I've always liked going into the woods, and I knew no one was on that property."
"I know you like being in the woods. You and Eric used to beg me to go down that trail by Gavin Woodall's yard, and I was scared out of my mind."
"Those woods are not haunted," I said, laughing and rolling my eyes at Landon for bringing up the old urban legend.
"I've never been over here, so I don't know where we're going. I'm not even sure that I've seen the house from the lake. I should have looked at a map."
"You turn at Broken Arrow if you're coming this way, but if you're out on the lake, it's on the south shore right past Sweetbriar Marina. You see the Sweetbriar campground, then the marina, then you go another mile or so and hit the Morgans' property."
"Do you take Paul's little boat all the way over there? I'm surprised you don't run out of gas."
"My dad has a gas can, and I stop at the marina."
"It must be a nice place for you to go hang out over there by yourself. Your dad seems excited about going back."
I hadn't been alone most of the time when I went over there. A couple of times, I had brought girls, and a time or two, I brought a guy. I didn't mention it to Landon because I didn't want to hurt his feelings since I had never invited him. He and I had only gotten closer in recent months since my brother left town.
"He is excited," I said. "I didn't realize how happy he was until I heard him singing out loud."
"I know, he was singing Rolling Stones."
I smiled and shook my head at the thought. "I think Otis Redding sings that song, too," I said.
"Yeah, but he was singing the Stones version," Landon said, smiling at me from over the console.
"Turn right at the light," I said, seeing the road that led to Broken Arrow.
It was only moments later when we pulled up at the property. We went straight to my dad's house, which I hadn't seen in years, and began moving things into it. One of the first things my dad unpacked was a radio, and he tuned it to a classic rock station that we listened to while we made trips from the trailer to the small house. It was about the same size as his last apartment, but it was nicer and newer in spite of having been vacant for the past eight years.
The yard was all worth it. It was amazing with lush woods. I couldn't see the main house or the lake without walking, but I could see a slide and two rope swings at the lake access point. I could also see the edge of the back patio which led to the swimming pool that had been occupied by hoodlums one summer. I took a deep breath.
The Morgan house was one of the nicest properties on the lake. I heard my dad say he thought they could get six or seven million dollars for it now if they decide to sell it. I couldn’t blame my dad for wanting to live there. It was serene and peaceful, and I wore an absentminded smile as I thought of different memories I made there as a child.
I looked up to see Casey Morgan approaching. He was driving a golf cart with a woman riding on the passenger's side. They were an adorable-looking couple. Casey had long hair that he pulled back into a man bun. He was really handsome but with a nonchalant surfer vibe, and the woman in the golf cart with him matched him perfectly. She had on denim shorts and a bikini top.
He parked in the distance, and I watched her get out. Her stomach was so trim that it made me suck in my gut just to look at her. She had long, dirty blonde hair with just enough beach waves that I thought there might be a few dreadlocks. She was like a mermaid. I could tell just by looking at her that she was a free spirit, and I meant that in the most beautiful way. Casey's girlfriend was gorgeous.
My dad and the guys were still loading boxes into the garage, and I had come to carry a box into the kitchen. I was the only one who could see Casey and his girlfriend pull up from the back, so I headed out there to meet them. Casey told her something and then he turned and put his phone to his ear. He stayed back near the golf cart while she headed into the house.
She was carrying a duffel bag and heading toward me like she knew where she was going. I opened the door just as she approached, and I watched as her face fell.
"Oh, hello, who are you?" she asked in a surprised tone, looking around as if searching for clues. She was confused but still friendly. I liked her instantly.
"I'm Paul's daughter," I said. "Were you coming to bring something to my dad?"
"Who?" she asked.
"My dad. Paul Jones. He's the one moving in. He's working here. I’m just here helping him move in."
"Oh, I'm…" she trailed off and looked all around. "I'm sorry, I thought we… me and my husband are staying in the guest house. His family owns this place. I don't know what I'm doing here. It's more like a campus. I feel like I'm at Disneyland."
I glanced at Casey who was still standing at the golf cart, talking on the phone and acting oblivious to his wife.
"There are two other guest houses," I said, hoping this was a misunderstanding. "And I think Mister Max knew my dad was moving into this one today."
"Oh, no, no, I believe you. I'm sure it's my fault. Casey wasn't sure where to take me, and I saw this little house when we pulled up and thought it was the right place."
"There are two other guest houses on the far side of the swimming pool. My guess is they'd have you in there. You're welcome to call Mister Max or ask Casey, though, just in case there's been a misunderstanding."
