Down By The Water (3 page)

FIVE

Ty's mom was waiting for us when we burst through the front door.

“Did you walk home?” she asked, her eyebrows raised. She had Ty's hazel eyes, warm and friendly, and silvery blond hair pulled back into a loose bun.

Ty took his soaked hat off and tossed it on the pine side table in the hallway. He shook, sending droplets of water flying in the hallway. “Not quite.” He didn't elaborate.

His mother turned to me, the warmth from her eyes finding their way into an easy smile. “Ty said your car broke down. Are you from around here?”

I shook my head. “No. Just traveling through.” I stood there and dripped, watching as the water pooled beneath me, the carpet runner I stood on turning a shade darker.

She moved past me and opened a door in the hall. She reached inside, grabbed a handful of fluffy yellow towels, and handed one to me. She tossed the other to to Ty.

“Dry off,” she said. She looked me up and down. “You need to get out of those clothes. Wait here—I'll go grab some.”

It was my turn to raise my eyebrows. Ty's mother wasn't huge but there was no way her clothes were going to fit me.

Ty noticed my expression and grinned. “Don't worry,” he said, toweling his arms and legs. “She'll get something of Mary's.”

“Mary?”

He wrinkled his nose. “My sister.”

Within minutes, his mom reappeared with a handful of clothes. I started to protest but she raised her hand and shushed me.

“Take these into the bathroom,” she instructed, motioning to an open door down the hallway. “I'll get your stuff washed and dried before you leave.”

I didn't argue. Not because I agreed but because I didn't have anything else to offer. I stepped into the bathroom and shut the door and braced my hands on the vanity. I stared at my reflection for a minute, trying to get a handle on the situation. My hair was plastered to my scalp and my eyeliner had streaked under my eyes, making me look more like a football player than a junior college graduate. My nose was a shade pinker than before, the hint of a sunburn blossoming. I was a disaster, inside and out.

I peeled off my wet shorts and dropped them on the bathroom floor. Ty's mom had brought me a pair of black yoga pants and I debated for half a second before slipping out of my wet panties, too. I wasn't thrilled with having a total stranger wash my underwear but it was so wet, I didn't have much of a choice. The fabric was soft and smooth as I slid the pants on. They weren't long enough and I imagined Ty's sister must have been short. I fought with my t-shirt, wriggling my way out of it and my bra. I let those fall to the floor, too and tugged on the pale pink t-shirt I was given. The shirt was thin and my nipples were clearly visible. I sighed. Not much I could do about that. I raked my hand through my hair, bringing strands forward to try to cover my breasts as best I could.

I used the bathroom and scrubbed my face clean of eyeliner. Satisfied that I didn't look as deranged as I had five minutes ago, I opened the door and stepped back into the hallway.

Ty was still there, tapping at his phone. He'd stripped off his white tank top and I felt my eyes drift from his face to his chest and stomach. Smooth, tanned skin, his abdominal muscles taut, defined. I almost sighed. He was definitely delectable. And absolutely off limits—for a multitude of reasons.

He glanced at me, his eyebrows raised. “You good?”

No, I wasn't good. There were a million thoughts swirling through my mind and my nerves were shot. But I tried to focus on the positives. I wasn't stuck in my broken-down car. I'd been given dry clothes and had a free dinner waiting for me. And the guy who was responsible for it all was genuinely a nice guy. A hot, nice guy.

“As good as I can be,” I said.

He looked me up and down and I thought his eyes lingered for a second on my shirt. I resisted the urge to glance down and see exactly how much was on display through the thin fabric of the t-shirt I'd been given. “I knew Mary's clothes wouldn't be a perfect fit.” His voice was dismissive and I decided I must have imagined that he'd zeroed in on my tits. “But it works.”

He reached for a t-shirt draped over the staircase railing and slipped it over his head. He'd already changed his shorts—new cargoes, dark blue. He ran his hand through his almost-dry hair and smiled at me and I wanted to kick myself for the flurry of butterflies that stirred in my stomach. “Ready for dinner?”

I nodded. “Sure.”

I followed him down the hallway, looking around as we walked. I remembered seeing the house ten years ago, but I'd never gone in. Even then, I'd wondered what it looked like inside. At first, I'd thought it was available for rent, too. I remembered asking my parents why we couldn't just stay in the house instead of pitching the two tents we'd shoved into the back of my mom's Dodge Caravan. They'd explained that the resort owners lived there, that they took care of the property year-round. I'd been impressed, a little envious, even, that some lucky family got to live somewhere with their own personal pool—not some tiny, backyard pool, but a big one, big enough to swim laps and jump off the diving board. I'd wondered if they had kids, and what it would be like to a have a revolving door of new friends to meet, to play with. Our own house was situated on the outskirts of our tiny town and the only time we saw friends was when we were in school.

“How long have you lived here?” I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral.

We were just outside the dining room. Ty looked at me curiously. “Forever. Why?”

He'd been here ten years ago. So he would know.

“No reason,” I said.

My pulse quickened but I breathed through it. He wouldn't remember me. We hadn't interacted with the host family until after. The memories of the aftermath were hazy, shrouded by a fog of sorrow and guilt and anger. I knew we'd talked to them but meeting Ty's mother had triggered nothing. I couldn't put it all together, but I could feel it inside me, tugging at me, threatening to drag me under.

Ty pulled out a chair for me at the large oak dining table and I sat down. The walls were the color of rust and gold, with floor-length curtains pulled open, allowing a view of the copse of trees that hid the bulk of the resort. The rain had tapered off but the sky was still an angry gray, a blanket of clouds shrouding the evening sun.

“Is it just the three of us?” I asked.

Ty sat down next to me and nodded at the place settings. “You think we set the table for our resident ghosts?”

I glanced at the table. There were four place settings, not three.

I felt the heat creep into my cheeks. “Oh.” I looked at him. “You have ghosts?”

He shrugged. “A couple. They don't make themselves known too often.” His tone was light and I couldn't tell whether he was messing with me or not.

I shivered a little. Ghosts creeped me out. Not that I'd ever had any experience with them, but just the thought of souls returning from the dead gave me goosebumps. Especially one. Because I wouldn't know what that one person would say, how that person would react to me.

Ty's mom bustled in from the kitchen, a metal pan cradled in her hands. Her eyes met mine as she set the dish down in the middle of the table and she nodded in approval.

“You look much better,” she said, smiling.

It sounded like a compliment, not a jibe, and I smiled back. “Thank you—” I didn't finish because I realized I didn't know her name. Or Ty's last name. And I didn't think I should address her as Ty's Mother.

“Sheila,” she told me. “You can call me Sheila. Mrs. Reilly doesn't work for me. Sounds like you're talking to my mother-in-law.”

“Okay. Thank you, Sheila.”

She nodded again, her hair slipping a little from her bun, and returned to the kitchen.

There was the sound of footsteps in the hall and I turned my head toward the door, expecting to meet Mary, the girl whose clothes I was wearing. But a man dressed in jeans and a pressed, plaid shirt walked in, a man who looked like an older version of Ty. Same hair, same crooked smile as he looked at me and greeted me with a hello.

“You must be the girl Ty rescued,” he said, his voice rich and deep. He slid into the chair at the head of the table.

Ty rolled his eyes. “Didn't rescue her, Dad.”

His father's smile deepened and I could make out the matching dimple in his cheek. “No? That's not what your mother told me.” He reached for the pitcher of ice water and poured himself a glass. “I'm Colin Reilly. Nice to meet you, Lily.”

I nodded. “Thanks for having me here.”

Sheila returned, carrying a crystal bowl filled with Jello and whipped cream. She set it down next to the casserole and took her place opposite of Ty's dad.

She leaned back in her chair. “Dig in, everyone.”

Ty scooped a big helping of taco casserole on my plate.

“I don't need that much,” I protested.

“It tastes better than it looks,” he said under his breath. “But avoid the Jello. She puts fruit cocktail in it.” He made a gagging sound.

I bit back a smile.

“So,” Colin said as he dropped spoonfuls of casserole and salad on to his plate. “Sheila tells me you were on your way to Madison. A job?”

I swallowed a bite of casserole. It was good. “No,” I said. “School.”

He raised his eyebrows. “School?”

I poured a glass of water and took a sip. “The University of Wisconsin.”

Ty stared at me. “So you just graduated high school?” His voice held a thread of doubt.

“No.” I shook my head. “I did a couple years at the local junior college. I'm finishing my degree at the U.”

He nodded and I swore I saw a flash of relief flit through his eyes. “Gotcha.”

I realized then that I had no idea how old he was. At a glance, I pegged him close to my age, maybe a couple of years older. But, like his father's, his own face was youthful. His dad didn't look much older than thirty but that was impossible, considering his grown son was sitting next to me at the table.

“How old are you?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

Ty grinned. “Older than you.” I waited and he said, “Twenty-two.”

Only two years older than me. I didn't know why it mattered but it did.

His mother spoke. “And where do you live, Lily? Some place close by?”

“No. North Dakota.”

His dad's eyes were on me, his expression thoughtful. “You look so familiar, “ he said. “I could have sworn you were local. Tipton or Alexandria.” I wasn't sure but I guessed those were the names of neighboring cities.

“Nope,” I said, swallowing a mouthful of water.

He frowned. “So odd. I swear I've seen you before.”

I wasn't going to tell him that he had. That, ten years ago, even though I didn't remember him, he had seen me. Probably talked to me. Numerous times. The more I stared at his face, the more vague memories I had of it. Of me standing behind my father, clinging to his shirttails, listening as they spoke in hushed, panic-laced voices, watching the pained expression on the resort owner's face as their conversation intensified. And I remembered seeing him on the doorstep as we pulled out of the driveway that final time, grief an uninvited passenger in our car.

I wasn't going to tell him any of this, about the past and about my connection to Minnesota. To this particular place in Minnesota.

Because he already knew it, even if he didn't remember me.

“We,, it doesn't matter where you're from,” Sheila said, turning to look at me. “We have an extra bedroom. You can stay as long as you need to.”

I opened my mouth to decline her offer but quickly closed it. I absolutely didn't want to stay, but my options were nonexistent. So I took a deep breath and said instead, “Thank you.” And I meant it.

The table was quiet for a few minutes, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Ty's dad asked a couple of questions about some guests and Sheila answered him and soon they were immersed in their own conversation.

Ty reached for the serving spoon and helped himself to another serving of casserole. He motioned to my plate. “More?”

I shook my head. My stomach still felt unsettled. “No, I'm good.”

He brought a forkful of food to his mouth and chewed. “I need to make some rounds after dinner,” he said. “Just around the resort. I'm sort of like security. Which sounds incredibly lame, considering this is like the safest place on the planet.”

I stiffened in my chair. It wasn't the safest place. I knew that from experience. It had been deadly for me. For my family.

“Anyway, thought you might want to tag along,” he said. “Instead of just hanging out here at the house.”

I shook my head hard. “No.” I tried to sound calm, nonchalant, but his eyes flew to me, his expression puzzled and I thought frantically for an excuse. “I mean, I'm still a little beat. I think the heat really got to me, you know?”

Ty nodded slowly, his eyes still locked on mine. “Yeah. You were out there for a while.”

“Uh huh,” I agreed. “So I think I'll just hang out here. If that's okay, I mean.”

“Sure,” he said. He scraped his fork across the plate, finishing off the second helping. He stood up, grabbing his plate and glass, and I followed suit. “You don't have to clear.”