Lake Magic (20 page)

“Don’t bother.”

His tone took her aback. “Don’t bother what?”

Cody snagged his backpack off the ground and slung it over his right shoulder. The stuffed gray and white nylon hung low on his back, the shoulder strap extended as far as it could go. “You can stop smiling.” He glared at her. “I don’t want to be here any more than you want me.” Without saying another word, he sulked off toward the house.

Jenny watched him go, his backpack thumping against his butt with each step he took. “Great,” she muttered under her breath, already feeling the weekend lengthen. As usual, she’d been wrong. Cody hadn’t been worried about Jenny not letting him stay; he’d been worried she would. A weekend at his aunt’s was obviously the last thing he wanted. With a shake of her head, she looked down into the grocery sacks Anna had left. There was enough food to last a week. Evidently, Jenny could watch her nephew; she just couldn’t cook for him. Carrying the paper bags, she followed Cody into the house. When would she learn to stop being such a bleeding heart?

She found him in the family room, sprawled out on the couch. She paused, readjusted the grocery sacks. As she stared at her nephew, she felt a pang of remembrance. She knew what it was like to be the kid of two hardworking parents, though unlike Cody, Jenny’s dad had always been home at night. And when her parents had been gone, she’d spent the majority of the time here at the lakefront house with her grandparents. Those times had been magical. Working with Nana in the garden or trolling for trout with her grandfather on the calm waters of Hidden Lake. It didn’t matter how full the freezer was or how busy her grandfather was, he would always make time to take her out during the crisp early mornings.

Maybe that was what Cody needed: for Jenny to show him the magic of the lake. When he’d been younger, they had gotten along so well. But in the last few years—in the last year—their relationship had gone sideways. Now Jenny wondered why she’d been so quick to blame everything on Cody turning thirteen. As she continued to look at him, she realized she was just as much to blame, if not more so. Nine months ago, she’d lost more than Steven. In her grief, she’d found it easier to become detached from her family—from everything. Maybe this weekend was a chance for her to start to change some of that.

She took a step toward the kitchen to set the grocery sacks down, then changed her mind. Nothing like the present to start on her new path. Balancing the heavier of the sacks on her hip, she walked into the family room. “Cody?”

He didn’t look her way.

She tried again. A little louder. “Cody?”

That was when she noticed his iPod and the thin white wires leading to his ears. Even from here she could hear the music coming from his earphones.

Knowing it was the only way to get his attention, she stepped into his line of vision and motioned as best as she could for him to take out his earphones.

With obvious reluctance, he pulled one of the miniature earphones out and glared at her.

“Hey,” she said, with more enthusiasm than necessary. “I thought maybe you’d like to help me unload all these groceries your mom packed. Looks like she’s planning on you staying for a week,” she joked.

He didn’t find her funny. “I’m sure she’d leave me if she could.”

He tried to hide behind a sarcasm only a thirteen-year-old boy could master, but Jenny could hear the hurt. “I’m sure your mom would love to be with you. But it sounds like this new job—”

“Whatever.”

Talking about Anna would obviously get them nowhere right now, so Jenny dropped it. “Hey, what about these groceries?”

He glared at her before picking up the remote and surfing through the channels. “You do it. I told Mom I didn’t want ’em.”

The bags were getting heavy, but Jenny was bound and determined to make a connection with her nephew. “How about after I put this stuff away, we do something fun? There’s a whole cupboard full of board games from when your mom and uncle and I were kids.”

“Bored. Yeah, right.”

Something told Jenny he wasn’t using board in the same sense she was. “There’s Monopoly. Life. Scrabble. Or Clue. That used to be one of your mom’s favorites.”

“Get a clue.”

Jenny bit back a grin. Her nephew was turning into a real stand-up comedian.

“Are you kidding me?” He kept flipping through the channels, then looked at her. “Five channels. What am I supposed to do all weekend?” He turned back to the TV.

“If you don’t want to play a game, there’s a whole shelf full of books upstairs.”

Cody didn’t bother answering. He cranked up his music and continued to push the remote, as if somehow more television stations would magically appear.

She stared at him a moment longer, at a loss for how to reach him. Still thinking, she headed into the kitchen.

She’d taken less than half a dozen steps when her flip-flop caught on something. She staggered, tried to regain her footing, tried to hold on to the grocery bags, and failed. Her feet flew out from under her. The bags flew out of her grasp as she flung out her arms, searched for something to grab on to. She only came up with air.

With a thud she hit the floor.

Dazed, she lay there, unable to move. It only took seconds for the back of her head to begin to throb. She blinked once . . . twice . . . tried to clear the pain away. But she could already feel the start of a killer headache. Her back began to sting, and her bottom felt like she’d just gotten a beating. She had. By a hardwood floor.

When the kitchen stopped spinning, she went to push herself up, only to have her hands slip out from under her. She fell back, crying out as she smacked against the floor once more.

She seriously considered just giving up and lying there until someone found her. The thought of doing another kerplunk onto the hardwood wasn’t all that appealing. Then she realized she’d either be found by her nephew—not so bad—or Jared—
very bad
.

Carefully—so carefully—she sat up and looked at her hands, wondering what had caused her second fall. A white gelatinous mess covered her palms. Wiping them off on her shorts as best she could, she used her forearms and pushed her hair off her face. Except for her aching head and throbbing tailbone, she was fine. The groceries, on the other hand, were a different story.

The milk had landed on its side, lid off. White froth gurgled across the floor. A carton of eggs had landed face-down. Broken yolks leaked out and mixed with the milk. So much for the mystery of the white goo on her hands. Fruit had toppled from a bag, and apples and oranges had scattered across the kitchen like balls on a pool table. The bananas hadn’t gone far. A box of Cheerios lay half-in, half-out of the milk. Using her foot, she nudged the Cheerios, boxes of mac and cheese, and a few Tupperware containers out of harm’s way.

Still disorientated, she looked around the kitchen. What had she tripped over?

And then she saw it: Cody’s backpack, abandoned right in the middle of the pathway.

She stood and sucked in a breath as a sharp pain shot up her spine. Grabbing a kitchen towel from the counter, she wiped off her hands and looked to the family room. Cody was still on the couch, still glued to the TV. She eyed him suspiciously. He couldn’t have picked a better spot to leave his backpack if he’d tried.

She opened her mouth, ready to give him what for—then stopped. What was wrong with her? Cody would no more try to trip her than she would try to trip him. She blamed her preposterous thoughts on the heat . . . her sister’s unexpected visit . . . and on the man who’d moved into her house and into her thoughts.

With more force than necessary, she jerked the backpack off the floor (paid the price as a fresh surge of pain pounded behind her eyes and her lower back) and set it on one of the high-backed counter stools before making her way back in to the kitchen and the paper towel holder.

“Cooking?”

She nearly dropped the wad of paper towels in her hand.

Jared stood near the end of the counter, a lazy half smile tilting the corner of his mouth.

He’s wearing his shirt
was her first thought. Her second, “Stop sneaking up on me.”

“Sorry,” he said, but they both knew he was anything but. He eyed the mess of milk and eggs, then turned his gaze back on her. “Scrambled eggs?” His smile turned full-blown, and her heart slammed hard against her chest. “My favorite.”

“Very funny,” she snapped, unnerved by her unacceptable reaction to him. It was something that was happening with more and more frequency. Ignoring him—or at least pretending to—because quite honestly, she found that was the only way she could be around him and keep her sanity, she tenderly bent down and began mopping up the mess. “What do you want?”

He reached over her and picked up the jug of milk. “Why do you assume I want anything?”

Want
. How long had it been since she’d thought about wanting. Needing? Merely existing had become enough. When she only had to worry about making it through the day, she was safe. Because thinking about more than that—wanting more than that—left her raw and exposed. “Forget it.” She swirled her paper towels through the wet mess a little faster.

For several moments, he didn’t move or say anything, and Jenny could feel his gaze on her. She didn’t draw an easy breath until he set the half-empty milk carton on the counter. But instead of leaving, as she’d expected, he picked up the rest of the groceries. Setting them on the counter, he tore off a hunk of paper towels and crouched down next to her.

“I didn’t hear you leave.”

They were so close she could feel the heat from his sun-warmed skin, could count his thick, spiky lashes. “Leave?”

“To grocery shop.”

His hand kept brushing against hers, almost as if on purpose. She told herself the fall had made her delusional, made her read into something that wasn’t there. But that didn’t stop the warmth from spreading across her hand, up her arm, down her spine, each time their skin touched. “Oh. That. I didn’t. I mean, my sister brought them.”

“Your sister brought you food?” He sounded surprised, as if the thought of a family member bringing food to another was a foreign concept.

“For my nephew.” And that’s when she realized Jared didn’t know about Cody.

Glad for any excuse to put some distance between them, she stood. “Cody,” she called out as she tossed the soggy paper towels in the garbage under the sink and rinsed her hands.

“Cody,” she said again, louder, remembering his earphones.

He rolled off the couch with as much energy as a slug. “What?”

“There’s someone I would like you to meet.”

He shuffled into the kitchen. When he caught sight of Jared, his eyes widened, and for a brief moment his cloak of teenage disdain slipped away. Surprised curiosity took its place.

Jared looked just as startled. He stared at her nephew like he’d never seen a kid before.

Jenny made the introductions. “Jared, this is Cody. Cody, Jared.”

Jared stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Cody stared at Jared’s outstretched arm. “Uh . . . um. Yeah. Whatever.” He put his small hand into Jared’s much larger one, and his thin arm wobbled as Jared pumped.

“Cody is my sister Anna’s son. Anna was recently promoted, and her hours at work have increased. With her husband out of town, she needed someone . . . me . . . to watch Cody. He might be back next weekend, too.” She clamped her mouth shut. She was rambling, just like she did every time she got nervous. But that’s what Jared did to her—made her nervous. And he made her remember.

“I didn’t know you had a nephew.”

“There’s a lot about me you don’t know.” But looking at him, remembering the flash of uncertainty that had come into his eyes when he’d first seen her nephew, had her thinking the reverse. There was a lot about him that she didn’t know.

Jared faced Cody. “Must be fun to stay with an aunt who lives on a lake.”

“My mom doesn’t like me to be near water unless there’s a lifeguard.”

“Maybe Jenny could talk to your mom, get her to change her mind.”

Cody shoved his hands deep down into the front pockets of his baggy cargo shorts. “Mom never changes her mind.” He hunched his shoulders. “Aunt Jenny doesn’t even have cable.”

“That sucks,” Jared agreed.

Cody scuffed his sneakered toe against the wooden floor. “Totally. Who doesn’t have cable?”

“Have either of you ever heard of a book? Or a game of cards?”

They ignored her.

“We have over two hundred channels at our house.”

“Sports package?”

“Yep.”

“You and your dad must have a lot of fun watching the games.”

Cody’s sneaker halted, and he gave Jared a sideways glance. “My dad’s never around.”

Jared was silent for several moments. “Tough break,” was all he finally said.

“Cody’s father is a surgeon,” Jenny explained, filling the sudden silence. “For the next few months, he’s volunteering in the Doctors Without Borders program. Where is he now, Cody? Sri Lanka?”

“Who cares.”

The contemptuous comment hung in the air like a stale odor.

“And Aunt Jenny doesn’t have a dog either.”

Cody made the comment with such appalling disbelief, Jenny wasn’t sure which ranked higher on the World’s Worst Aunt List—the cable or the dog.

“My mom says we can’t have a dog ’cuz we live in the city, and they poop. But Aunt Jenny doesn’t live in the city.”

“No,” Jared agreed. “She doesn’t.”

Jenny shot him a
thanks a lot
look. His
you’re welcome
was anything but.

Jared looked to all the groceries on the counter. “Your mom sure packed a lot of food.”

Cody shrugged. “Mom said not to eat Aunt Jenny’s cooking.”

A deep bark of laughter erupted from Jared’s chest. “She would know.”