That Thing You Do (A Crystal Lake Novel Book 2) Page 6

  “And you’re the best friend?” his mother asked pointedly.

  “Well, yeah,” he replied, sitting up straighter. “Who else would I be talking about?”

  His mom sipped her coffee, though her eyes nailed him from over the rim. She set down the mug and pursed her lips. “If you ask me—”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, Mom, but I didn’t ask you,” Nate replied.

  She cleared her throat and gave him a look that said he was perilously close to that line he didn’t want to be anywhere near.

  “If you ask me,” she repeated, slowly and methodically, like he was ten or something, “you’re acting like a man who’s been…” Her voice trailed off as she cocked her head to the side. She looked at him in a way that made him squirm, and she kept looking at him that way for a good minute before she spoke. “Nathan, you’re acting like a man who’s been cheated on. Wronged. Cuckolded.”

  Cuckolded? What did that mean? He envisioned a pissed-off rooster running mad, screeching at the top of its lungs. Nate opened his mouth to respond, because, what the hell? But his mom held up her hand, and he knew better. By Christ, at the age of thirty, he had this part down pat.

  “You’ve known Molly your entire life. Since, what age?” she asked, sounding entirely too conversational for his liking.

  “Five,” he said, keeping his cool.

  “Actually, you were four. I took you to Mary Poppins. Do remember Mary Poppins?”

  His memory was fuzzy, but he did remember the daycare was located in the basement of the community center.

  “You were heading off to kindergarten that fall, and you were such a little mama’s boy, I wanted you to get used to being away from me. So I took you two mornings a week that summer before school started. You met Molly the first day, and do you remember what you said to me when I picked you up?”

  “No,” Nathan responded. “I was five.”

  “Four.”

  He did a mental eye roll but stayed silent.

  “You told me that you met your best friend. And then you asked me if it was okay that she was a girl, not a boy. And I told you that girls made the best of friends.” A pause. “Do you remember what you said to that?”

  He shook his head, though a memory floated in his mind. Long braids, purple T-shirt, big blue eyes that laughed when she looked at him. One missing front tooth.

  “You told me she was your best friend forever because she had the nicest smile and she shared her fruit roll-up with you.” Another pause. “And because she ran faster than any of the kids at Mary Poppins, including all the boys. Except yourself, of course, but I think you were fibbing.”

  All true. He said nothing.

  “You and Molly have been friends for over twenty-five years, and like everything else, your friendship has evolved. There was a time when she was no different than her brother Zach or Stu or Brad. She liked the same things all of you did. Sports. Music. Television shows. She played hockey with you boys, and football too. Right up until she got that concussion. She was just one of the guys.”

  “She still is,” he replied quickly, sitting up straighter.

  “My God.” His mom threw her hands up in the air. “Why are men so damn dense?” She shook her head. “No, Nathan. She’s not just one of the boys, and she hasn’t been that for a long time. Do you remember your prom?”

  Seriously? This conversation was all over the place. His mom wanted to talk about their prom? He’d taken Molly because Brett Smith had asked her, but when rumors started circulating that he’d asked her specifically because he’d lost a bet, Molly had been upset. In fact, up until then, he’d never even seen her cry. Nate convinced her to go to prom with him, said his girlfriend at the time, Samantha Boga, had strep and couldn’t go. He’d planned on dumping her after prom anyway. The girl was talking about his future in the NHL as if she was gonna be in on that shit. It was two problems solved at once.

  He and Molly went to prom together, he had a great time because she didn’t make him feel like he had to dance with her or anything, and at the after-party, he’d hooked up with a girl from the neighboring county who’d crashed the party, and he’d managed to get lucky more than once. The night had been a big win for him. Taking Molly to prom had been the smartest thing he’d done. There’d been no expectation and he’d been able to relax, have fun, and to whatever the hell he wanted.

  “What about prom?” he asked, curious to see where his mother was going with this.

  “Do you remember what color dress she wore?”

  “The color of her dress? Are you kidding me?” Nate’s mouth might have fallen open.

  “No. I’m not.” His mother looked him right in the eye, and he knew she expected an answer. He swore under his breath and shrugged.

  “I don’t know. Blue? Maybe?”

  “Here’s the thing, Nate,” she replied softly and leaned forward. “If you ask Molly right now, she’ll tell you that she wore a coral dress with white piping. It was simple and elegant. She left her hair down, no fancy updo for our Molly, but with her hair, why would you tame it? You had a tie to match, and the both of you looked…” She sighed and glanced away. “Well, you looked like you belonged together, and she looked at you like she knew it.”

  Nate couldn’t do this anymore. “I have to get down to the park for the float, so if you don’t mind getting to the point, and I’m going to assume there is a point in there somewhere, I’d appreciate it.”

  His mother got to her feet and walked toward him. She gave him a hug from behind and dropped a kiss to his cheek. “The point, my darling boy, is that sometimes the thing we need, the thing that completes us, is right in front of us. It’s not shiny or new or exotic, something to draw the eye and distract. It’s so much more than that. It’s real and solid and true.”

  “That still doesn’t make any sense,” he muttered, getting to his feet and staring down at his mother.

  She smiled up at him, but the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  “You’ll get it, Nathan. I promise you will.” She took a step back. “I just hope when you do, it’s not too late.”

  An hour later, Nate was still thinking about his mother’s words. Not just the words, but the look in her eyes when she’d said them. As if she knew something he didn’t and was disappointed when he didn’t clue in. He hated feeling like he was a step behind, and he really didn’t like her insinuation that he was jealous of Molly and Kyle. It wasn’t that. Jealousy. He was being a good friend, end of story, and he was damn well sick of reminding everyone of that particular fact.

  He decided that the best course of action was to forget about it, to not give it any more life. He also needed to square things away with Molly. He wasn’t exactly sure what he’d done that’d warranted the silent treatment all week, but he’d take a hit if it meant an end to the freeze out.

  The sad truth was simple. He missed her. A lot.

  He pulled into a parking spot and quickly made his way over to the starting point, where Stu and his wife, Zach and Jess, and the rest of the guys were set up. His plan was to hop onto one of their floats since he was solo. The park was busy, filled with folks of all ages, but then this particular event had been a mainstay since the seventies. His parents used to do it, and a lot from that generation still did.

  Brad was busy fidgeting with his large speaker, trying to get the plastic bag he’d stored it in watertight, while Mike was already elbow-deep in a big bag of Cheetos. Nate tossed Mike his cooler and headed toward Zach.

  “Perfect day, my friend,” Zach said, his arm around Jessica as he grinned widely. “I’m loving life right now.”

  “I hear ya.” Nate glanced over his shoulder. “Where’s Molly at?”

  Zach pointed behind him to the food truck set up near the pavilion. “You guys still fighting?” He took a shoulder punch from Jessica. “What?” Confused, he looked at Nate. “Are you?”

  Nathan shrugged. “Guess we’ll find out.” He bypassed a bunch of guys trying
to get his attention and headed for the food truck, giving a quick wave but not bothering to stop. He spotted Molly right away. Hard not to with those legs and that hair. She was fixing up a couple of hot dogs, which he didn’t pay attention to, because if he had, that would have got him to wondering at the double count before he opened his mouth and looked like a complete idiot.

  “Hey,” he said softly.

  She turned and stared at him, and for a moment or two, that awkwardness that had permeated the airspace around them since he came back home made itself known. It was thick, and he nearly choked on it, but then she straightened up, wiped her hands on the front of her jean shorts, and smiled.

  “Hey,” she replied, and in that instant, relief flooded him. She sounded normal. His old Molly was back. The world was right. Hal-le-fucking-lujah.

  “We good?” Nate watched her closely, looking for any sign this was about to go sideways. But there was nothing. No sliding eyes. No tight mouth. No accusation.

  “We’re good.”

  “I don’t like it when things are weird.”

  “I don’t either.” She shrugged. “Kyle was an idiot. You were right.” She scooped up her hot dogs, and he fell into step beside her as they made their way back to their group.

  “Can I ask you something?” Nate cleared his throat, thinking of the best approach.

  “Sure.”

  “This is going to sound crazy, but humor me.”

  Molly laughed and glanced up at him. Had her skin always been so damn smooth? And those lips. That Kardashian chick had nothing on her.

  “What is it?”

  They stopped near the water fountain, and Nathan almost dismissed his question, because really, did it matter? But then he remembered the look in his mother’s eyes and the insinuation that he’d missed something all those years ago.

  “What color dress did you wear to prom?”

  “Prom?” Her brow rose, and she looked confused. “I wore coral, and you wore a navy suit with a matching tie for my dress. Remember we had to go to the city to find the exact color?” She paused. “Why are you asking me about prom?”

  Well, shit. Now he felt like an idiot. Did all girls remember those details? Were all boys oblivious?

  “Who you floating with?” The thought struck Nate when he realized Kyle wasn’t in the picture anymore.

  “I have my floaty tied to Zach’s.”

  “Why don’t you hop on Doug’s? It’s big enough.”

  “Oh, well…I, ah…” Her cheeks got all pink, and she was stumbling over her words. “I invited a friend along.”

  At that moment, a tall, athletic, tattooed guy walked up to them and smiled widely when he spied Nathan.

  “Jacobs. Nice to see you out here, mate.”

  Nathan looked at Link Major in confusion, then swung his gaze back toward Molly. And the two hot dogs. And the damn pink cheeks.

  “Link Major is your floating buddy?” How in hell had she managed to meet up with the footballer in the few days he’d been in Crystal Lake? Hell, Nate had barely managed to get him out fishing the day before.

  “We met this morning.” Molly was back to normal again. “On the trail.”

  “The trail,” Nate repeated.

  “Yes, I was jogging. He was jogging. There was a dog. We met, and I invited him to float down the river.”

  Nathan looked at Link. The guy was out of play with an extreme groin pull. “You were running down the trail.” It wasn’t a question but a statement.

  “I ran slowly, you know. Carefully.”

  The guy was full of shit, but now wasn’t the time for that conversation.

  “How do you know each other?” Molly asked, clearly confused by the conversation as she handed Link a hot dog.

  “Link here is a client of mine.”

  “Prospective client,” the man said with a glint in his eye.

  “He’s renting Beck’s place while he figures some shit out.”

  A horn sounded just then, signaling five minutes until the float began.

  “We should go,” Molly said.

  “So you two are floating together.” Nate’s mind began to turn as an idea took shape. He could spend some time with one of his best pals and figure out what the hell was going on with Link.

  She nodded but remained silent.

  “Since I’m solo, do you mind if I tag along?”

  A heartbeat passed, and Nate held his breath as he gazed at her. The wind picked up just then and snagged a thick swath of hair, twirling it around her face so that for a moment, her features were hidden. He almost reached for it, but something held him back. Some sane part of him that said keep your hands to yourself. As if touching her would change the game yet again.

  “There’s room,” she said, turning on her heel. She headed toward her floaty, and Nate watched her, momentarily forgetting about the man beside him.

  Link slapped him on the shoulder. “I think I’m going to like it around here.”

  “We need to talk about the groin.”

  “We will.” Link grinned, taking a step back. “Another time, mate. I’ll tell you what you want to know, and you can tell me why the hell that woman is still single.” His grin widened. “And why you’re looking at her like she’s a tasty snack.”

  Chapter Seven

  Labor Day weekend had always been Molly’s favorite long weekend of the year. Crystal Lake at the end of August, beginning of September, was one the best places on earth to be. It was thick silent forests and sparkling water, cool mornings and mist along the grass. Warm afternoons on the lake but feeling that hint of fall in the air, and floating down the river with her best friends. It was last-minute barbecues and bonfires on the beach.

  Today had been perfect.

  And not just because the weather had been wonderful, or because the last of the litter of kittens she’d rescued the week before had been adopted. It was perfect because Nate was home and things were back to normal. Or at least her new normal. A normal she could live with.

  They floated down the river, and she teased him about pretty much everything while he made her laugh with just a look. They spent a lot of time arguing sports. She liked the Montreal Canadiens, while he was all about the Rangers. Nate was a Patriots fan, while she liked the Ravens. They argued about the merits of rap versus rock, (she liked Eminem; he liked Tool), should the toilet paper roll be over or under (she was all for under; three guesses as to his preference).

  Most importantly, she learned that she could compartmentalize and keep her feelings for Nate tucked away in some quiet little corner of her soul. She could do that and put a smile on her face and forget that things weren’t the same. Or normal. That she was pretending things were normal. Giving an Oscar-worthy performance, in fact.

  And for a while, she forgot she was pretending. For a while, she relished having Nate in her circle again. His smile reacting to hers. His eyes lighting up when she told a funny joke or pointed out that every time Brad bent over, he exposed eighty percent of his butt crack. Every. Single. Time.

  They’d floated down the river and enjoyed the water, the music, and their friends old and new. Link was funny as hell and kept them entertained with stories that made no sense. But the more beer he ingested, the harder it was to understand his accent, and by the time they reached the pub on the water, he was singing a song about a lass and a beer and a night gone bad.

  Molly watched Link saunter up the stairs as she pulled a pair of jean shorts over her bathing suit. She’d opted for a simple black one-piece and, since it was still warm, decided to forgo the white tank top for now. She tied a blue zip-up hoodie around her waist and slipped into her running shoes, which she’d kept in her backpack.

  “I can’t believe he’s one of the top footballers in Europe,” she said, pulling her hair up into a high ponytail as she turned to Nate. His silver aviators were still in place so she couldn’t see his eyes, but there was something about the way he stood or the stillness in the air that made the hair on the
back of her neck stand on end, as if she’d stuck her fingers into an electrical socket.

  For a few moments, he didn’t answer. He just looked at her. And she looked at him. The air got thicker, the electricity hotter. She wanted him to take off his sunglasses, hell, she nearly asked him to, but then they were saved, or rather, she was saved, when Jessica yelled from the dock.

  “You guys coming or what? We’re all starving.”

  The spell, or whatever it was, shattered, and Molly jumped at the sound of Jessica’s voice. She scooped up her backpack and turned on a dime, suddenly wanting to get away from Nate. Away from the eyes that hid behind those sunglasses. Away from the pretending.

  It was exhausting.

  She headed up the steps and disappeared inside the restaurant. When she spied her brother, she tossed him her backpack and asked him to save her a seat at their table before seeking out the bathroom. She hoped a bit of quiet would calm her nerves. There were a few girls at the sink applying gloss and fixing hair, but none that Molly knew. She waited until they left and then splashed water over her face, leaning a bit closer as she studied the reflection in the mirror.

  She’d owned these features her entire life, and for a while, they hadn’t been her friend. But that was more about being young and immature. About feeling awkward and not good enough. Luckily for her, it passed. She’d always been a confident kid, especially when it came to sports. It was when her hormones exploded that things got complicated.

  She took stock in her reflection in a clinical way, as if it didn’t belong to her. Big expressive eyes. Clear skin. Nice mouth. High cheekbones. Her jaw was a little pointy in her opinion, but whatever. She was what her Nana Malone called a late bloomer. She’d told Molly that, one afternoon after too many mimosas. Her nana had drained her long crystal stem of its golden liquid, set it down on the table between them, and waved her finger in Molly’s face. She’d said, “Thank God you grew into your arms and legs and that face. Lord, for a while there, all I could see was your damn nose every time I looked at you. Reminded me of your grandfather, and goodness, it didn’t suit him either.” She’d settled back in her chair, nodded a few times, and said, “Thank God indeed.”