Worried that he would remember the question that had gone unanswered—because I didn’t have an answer to give—I released his hand and asked, “How about that movie?”
Drew shook his head as if breaking free from his thoughts and brought his attention back to me…with a smile that nearly made me squeeze my legs together. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he leaned toward me, practically into me, making me believe that he was about to kiss me, when really, he was just reaching behind us to grab a canvas shopping bag. The worst part, though, was the twinkle in his eye as he moved away and climbed out of the golf cart.
It seemed I had failed at hiding my desire.
Fortunately, the trees along the path offered enough darkness to recover as I followed Drew down to the lake.
The dock was T-shaped with no barrier along the straightaway and a waist-high railing enclosing the entire end. It didn’t seem very safe without anything along the sides to keep me from falling in, so I remained right behind Drew, using the moonlight to see where we were going.
As we passed the boat, which was tied up halfway down, I thought about our outing earlier today. More specifically, remembering—in vivid detail—our kiss beneath the steeple. I was so lost in my memories that I almost ran right into him. Again. If I had managed to fall into him twice in one day, he’d think I’d done it on purpose. Luckily, though, I caught myself before he had a chance to notice the near stumble.
Drew leaned over and took off the lid of a portable firepit that sat in the open space at the end of the dock. A few seconds later, a flame crackled in the night, and several seconds after that, the beginnings of a small fire offered enough light to see what we were doing.
Moving the lid out of the way, he pointed to a large, outdoor storage locker against the railing on one side. “The cushions for the chairs are in there. Do you mind grabbing them for me, please?”
While I retrieved the astonishingly comfortable outdoor cushions and placed them on the chaise lounges, Drew busied himself with the projection screen. Once he had it all set up, I was quite surprised. It wasn’t anything fancy, but the ingenuity of it was impressive. I could tell he had manufactured it himself with a large white canvas and two black poles he had anchored into the dock to keep the screen stretched and pulled tight. It was at least five feet tall by seven feet wide.
“Here, take your pick.” He passed me an iPad and took a seat on the chaise next to me. I’d clearly been too focused on the movie screen, lost in utter fascination, because I didn’t have a clue where he’d gotten the device.
Scrolling through his film library, I found titles I’d never heard of, ones I had, and a few that seemed so old I halfway wondered if he’d downloaded them by accident. On the third screen, however, I stopped on a photo of Mark Wahlberg and noticed it was for a movie I’d wanted to see but never had, The Gambler. “This one,” I said, tapping on the title.
It took a couple of minutes for Drew to hook up the projector and settle in next to me, but once he did, I had a hard time staying focused. The opening scene filled the projection screen, the sound playing through a speaker behind us, except none of it registered. We sat with maybe one foot between our lounge chairs, not touching, not talking, not even looking at each other. Yet somehow, the energy around us was so strong that there was no way we weren’t connected at all.
I turned my head and noticed him watching me.
The firewood crackled and flames flickered.
His gaze narrowed, and his lips parted.
Heat swarmed me, smothered me, breathed me in, though I couldn’t pinpoint the source. The firepit wasn’t close enough for its warmth to cover me this way, which meant the consuming heat was caused by his stare. The way he looked at me held an air of importance unlike I’d ever felt, as if he was about to utter the most important words I would ever hear.
“This place is a curse.” His whispered confession swathed me in the palpable pain embedded in each word. “You say you feel like you belong here, but that’s because you can leave. You’re not stuck. You’re not sentenced to this life like I am.”
My heart ached for him—the lonely boy regarding me through Drew’s eyes, the lost soul sitting next to me, and the loyal son who wouldn’t leave. I wished, more than anything, that I could make this right for him. To unlock his cage and set him free. Let him spread his wings and live the life he was meant for.
“Does your dad know this is how you feel?”
“No, I can’t talk to him about any of this. He’ll let me go—I know him, and he won’t keep me here if he knows I’m this miserable.”
“Okay then!” I rolled to the side and shifted on my elbow, moving slightly closer to him. “So talk to him. If he won’t hold you back, what’s stopping you?”
Drew closed his eyes but didn’t turn away. “He’ll let me go, just like he let my mom go. But that doesn’t make it any better—it’s still abandonment, regardless of how you look at it. He didn’t hold my mom back. She felt trapped here and left. Dad never said a negative word about her, never voiced his pain or anger or anything. It was obvious she’d hurt him, but he never let on how much.” His eyes opened and found mine, the flickering flames dancing in the endless pools of onyx.
“Let me see if I got this straight… You won’t leave, even though he won’t hold you back, all because you know he’ll be upset or hurt? He’s your dad. You’re his son. I’m sure he only wants you to be happy.”
“You don’t understand, Kenny.”
“Then help me understand.” I sat up and faced him, completely forgetting my earlier decision to stay out of this issue. With my elbows on my thighs, I leaned forward to close as much of the distance as I could. “Explain it to me, Drew.”
The movie continued to play, although neither of us paid any attention. The sound effects and action scenes rumbled the speaker behind us, yet it went unnoticed. His eyes remained locked on mine, watching me as if I were some live-action film in front of him.
And the night became ours.
“Thanks to my grandmother, this place—this lake—is my dad’s entire life. Without Black Bird, he has no purpose. He believes that one day, either in his lifetime, mine, or my children’s, his family will return. I’m his only kid, which means if I leave, that day may never come. And that’s a disappointment I refuse to hand him.”
My heart skipped a beat. Then another. Then another. It clenched and burned in my chest, restricting blood flow. My face heated, icy tingles filled my fingertips, and a stabbing sensation attacked the backs of my eyes.
I waved my hands in the air between us and shook my head. “Wait a minute. You’re going to have to back up about a mile, because I’m pretty sure I’m missing something. Why would he have to wait for his family to come back? Where’d they go?”
Drew sat forward, grabbed the canvas sack he’d taken from the golf cart, and pulled out a can of beer. Popping open the top, he scooted the bag closer to me, a silent offer to help myself. To my surprise, I found more than just beer inside. Along with his cans were bottles of wine spritzers. If I hadn’t been so absorbed in his story, I might’ve smiled at his thoughtfulness.
“There was a mandatory evacuation for the entire town set for noon on July fifth, because the valley was set to flood on the sixth. A crew—presumably belonging to the sheriff’s department—was ordered to go door to door and verify that each house and building was vacant. The dam would remain closed until all of Chogan had been checked and double-checked to ensure the town was entirely empty. Then they’d confirm there was no way to get back onto the land, sign off on the vacancy verification orders, and then give the power company the okay to lift the dam the next day.” He paused to take a drink, swallowed, and then met my eager stare. “Except, that’s not what happened.”