Lost Lake by Sarah Addison Allen
“And yet I know nothing about you. I don’t think that’s fair.”
He thought he was smooth. And to anyone else, he probably was. He was good. But she was better. Huddled nearby under the shade of one of the umbrellas was a severe, unhappy soul with two unfortunate-looking young women by her side. They were shooting daggers with their eyes at Selma. Those had to be his wife and daughters. It was provocation enough to want to toy with them, but it felt so obligatory. Maybe she was just tired. She saw Bulahdeen sitting at a picnic table near the sign, chatting easily with some people from town. She was reaching behind her and untying the sign as she talked. Selma found herself hoping the old woman would wave and all but force Selma over, to include her in some way.
“I’m buying this property, you know,” Lazlo said.
Without looking at him, she said, “Oh, I know.”
“I’m going to do great things with it.”
“I’m sure you will.”
“Let me walk you around. I’ll show you. It’s awfully crowded here, anyway.”
She turned to him and hesitated. Finally, she smiled and said, “I’m all yours.”
“I should be so lucky.”
As soon as he turned and led her away from the lawn, her smile dropped. She would turn it on when he faced her again, but she didn’t want to leave it on in the interim. She felt like her battery was low on charge. When he led her by the dock, to the wooded trail around the lake, she slowed to a stop. He walked ahead a few steps.
On the dock was that child with the unusual sense of dress and glasses. She was on her stomach, looking down into the water, obviously waiting for the alligator she talked so much about. Her whole world was in a bubble, shimmering around her in the sun. The light from it almost blinded Selma, but she couldn’t look away.
She was getting soft.
The sooner this place sold, the better, as far as she was concerned. She had gotten too attached to it. And women like her knew the danger of attachment.
“Are you coming, beautiful?”
She was a little disgusted by him, she realized, but she sauntered over to him anyway. “The best things are worth waiting for.”
* * *
The cake sitting on the dining room buffet table was wide and three layers tall. There was a fondant topper shaped like a branch, and from that branch draped candy strings of Spanish moss, flowing down the side of the cake like a veil. Eby kept looking over at it. Why did Lisette make it so large? They were going to be eating cake for weeks.
Eby was sitting behind the front desk in the foyer, trying to focus on the crossword in front of her. What exactly was a seven-letter word for consequence? And why exactly did she care? The sound of car doors being shut distracted her almost as much as the smell of chocolate cake. Bulahdeen had told her that a few people from town might show up. Eby didn’t think it would happen, but the sound of voices outside had her reconsidering. It had just been so long since there’d been actual activity at the lake. She didn’t want to get her hopes up. Still, she strained to make out words, to catch pieces of conversation over the ticking and hissing of the air-conditioning.
She looked back down and tried to concentrate on her puzzle. George could never stand to be inside when he knew there was a gathering out there. He’d had to be a part of everything. He’d taken credit for new friendships, summer romances, first steps, and first swims. He’d loved this place. He’d loved this town.
She heard laughter. An unfamiliar voice. She whirled her pen back and forth between her fingers. Fifty years ago, she would have opened the front door and looked out and would have seen a swarm of people, with George in the center of it all. If she opened that door now, she knew that swarm wouldn’t be there. And neither would George.
Finally, she couldn’t take it any more. The party wasn’t officially supposed to start for another forty-five minutes, but Eby had to go out and see.
She opened the front door, and her lips parted in surprise at the size of the crowd.
The faces were all familiar ones. The past fifty years of her life were crammed into a tiny circle in front of her, nice and compact. Parked cars lined the driveway, disappearing through the trees, seemingly all the way back to the highway.
There was Billy Larkworthy and his bluegrass band, playing music under the canopy next to the dance floor. He’d been such a young man when he’d first started playing on the weekends here. He was old now. His grandson played the mandolin in the band. There were Norma and Heath Curtis, young newlyweds from town who couldn’t afford a honeymoon twenty years ago, so Eby and George let them stay here for free. Ten months later, they had a baby boy, whose middle name was George. There was Grady from the pizza place, and Harold from the Fresh Mart, and Halona from the dance studio. There were dozens of young men and women Eby and George had given jobs to over the years, now grown up with families. These people had welcomed her and George into their lives, into their town, and they in turn had fallen into Eby’s heart.
George would have loved this.
A flash of red hair caught her eye.
She automatically took a step forward. She saw the red hair again and hurried across the driveway and into the party. People began to recognize her, and there were pats on her back and hugs that slowed her momentum. Some people wanted to talk, and she kept saying, “Yes, of course, just give me a minute.”
Another flash of red.
She followed him, lost him for a moment, then caught sight of him again near the edge of the lawn, where the bald spot of grass was. There was no noise around her any longer, just the whoosh, whoosh of her own blood in her ears. His back was to her as she reached her hand up to touch his shoulder.
He turned around.
It was Wes.
“Eby!” he said, bending to hug her. “Welcome to your party!”
She stuttered for a moment, unable to find her words. She hadn’t realized until that moment how very much like George Wes was. “I … thank you. This is certainly a surprise.”
“Everyone—Eby is here!” Wes called to the crowd, and there was a surge toward her. They sang “For She’s a Jolly Good Fellow,” and some people even gave her gifts. There was a bit of desperation to the crowd, barely noticeable behind their genuine smiles and happy memories. They weren’t just saying good-bye to Eby. There was something more there. Lazlo greeted her, looking ill at ease in his dark suit in this heat. He told her that his lawyer was here and he wanted her to sign the papers today. He was going along with the party for show, but Eby could tell he just wanted to get this over with.
It took more than an hour before she was finally able to sit down. Someone put a plastic plate with a steak on it in front of her. She was a little disoriented. She kept staring at the sign.
FAREWELL, EBY.
Which meant, Farewell, George. Farewell, Suley. Farewell, Lisette. Farewell, fifty years of memories.
All this time, she’d been looking for a big sign. Just not that one. She wished she would have stayed inside.
“Quite a turnout, isn’t it?” Kate said from behind her. She took a seat beside Eby and handed her a bottle of water. She was wearing a strapless celery-colored cotton dress. With her short hair and long neck, she looked stunning. She’d gotten some sun over the past few days, making her look stronger and healthier than when she arrived. Eby was glad that she’d held on to the lake this long, at least, in order to give Kate a week she really seemed to need.
Eby took the water gratefully. She unscrewed the cap and took a long swallow. “Did you know it was going to be this big?” she asked with narrowed eyes.
Kate laughed. “We all hoped it would be. Word slipped out, and everyone wanted to come. Bulahdeen has decided to take credit for it.” They watched as Bulahdeen walked up to the sign. This time the old woman balled it up and marched toward her cabin with it, and the look on her face dared anyone to stop her. “Lazlo brought the sign. She doesn’t want this to be a farewell party,” Kate explained.
“Trut
Kate suddenly smiled. “Oh, Eby. I knew it! It’s not too late. I think I have the solution. I want to discuss something with you.”
Eby was taken aback by her ebullience. “Discuss what?”
“If you had enough money to travel without having to sell the lake, would you still sell?”
Eby put the cold bottle of water to her forehead, then to her chest. “Probably.”
“Oh,” Kate said, and Eby could almost see the wind blow out of her sails. “All right, then.”
“Mainly because there would be no one to run it in my absence,” Eby continued. “Lisette couldn’t, for obvious reasons, even if she wanted to. And it would take even more money I don’t have to hire employees.”
Kate straightened in her seat. “What if I buy Lost Lake?” she asked. “Or at least buy into it? You’d have money to travel that way. Devin and I could even stay here and run the place while you’re gone. That way you’d have something to come back to.”
Eby laughed before she could stop herself. It was so pie-in-the-sky, like some great scheme a child would make up. “Kate…”
“You haven’t signed anything yet,” Kate quickly reminded her. “You don’t have to give this place up. I have money. What if I invest in it? I love it here. So does Devin. A year. Give me a year.”
Eby stared at her, beginning to understand that she was serious. Kate wasn’t that child who used to spin stories any longer. Eby was seeing that now. “Can you really afford it?”
“It’s the money from the sale of my house. The house you bought. It makes sense to invest it here. I’ve been thinking about this for a few days now. I could put a lot of time and energy into advertising and promotion. It’s what I did with Matt’s shop. I even created the logo. I’m good at it. I could get business up.”
Eby smiled at the thought. But then she shook her head. She couldn’t get her hopes up, not this late in the game. “It’s too late. Lazlo and his lawyer are already here. They want the papers signed today.”
“Wait,” Kate said, confused. “If he has a lawyer, shouldn’t you too?”
“No. I just want to get this over with.”
“It’s not too late, Eby.”
“You should use your money on a better investment than this.”
“There is no better investment than this,” Kate said, turning to stare at her daughter on the dock. Three girls Devin’s age had now joined her. They were laughing, their hands animated as they talked. The girls ran back up to the lawn and beckoned Devin to follow them. Devin looked behind her at the lake once, before running after them.
“You need to move on,” Eby said. “We all do. Even Wes.”
That got Kate’s attention. “What does Wes have to do with this?”
“He’s going into business with his uncle, Lazlo.”
“Wait. Uncle?” Kate’s entire demeanor changed. “Lazlo is Wes’s uncle?”
“He didn’t tell you?”
“No. What do you mean, he’s going into business with him?”
“Once my deal with Lazlo goes through, Wes is going to give his land to his uncle as an investment in the development. That’s one of the reasons I can’t go back. Everything is already in motion.”
It took Kate a moment to respond. “So he has a vested interest in your selling this place.”
“I don’t know if I would call it that,” Eby said, picking up her plastic fork and knife, getting ready to tackle the overcooked steak in front of her. Her last meal as owner of this place. At least dessert was going to be good. “Wesley’s relationship to this place is complicated.”
They both turned when Lazlo called out over the crowd, “Can I have your attention everyone!”
Kate stood, then hesitated. “Don’t sign anything. Not just yet. Promise me you’ll wait just a little while today.”
“All right,” Eby said curiously, and watched her disappear into the crowd.
* * *
“Thank you all for coming!” Lazlo said, as if this had all been his idea. Bulahdeen, back from disposing of the sign, looked furious that he was calling attention to what she’d been trying so hard to hide. “As you know, Eby has decided to sell Lost Lake.”
The crowd made noises of disappointment, and Lazlo nodded, like he understood their feelings, even shared them. Kate found Wes easily. He was taller than most, and his russet hair glinted in the sun. He was watching Lazlo dispassionately. He didn’t look like someone pleased to be going into business with this man. Not that she blamed him. But still, he was.
“I know, I know,” Lazlo continued. He was sweating profusely, and he dabbed at his face with a paper napkin. “But let’s look at this as a step forward!”
Kate came to a stop beside Wes. He seemed aware of her presence before he even turned, like her closeness caused a change in the atmosphere surrounding him. He turned his head and smiled at her.
She stared straight ahead. “Is he really your uncle?”
His smile faded. He didn’t ask how she’d found out. He turned back to watch Lazlo. “Yes.”
Lazlo was saying, “Eby has been an upstanding businesswoman, a community activist, and a damn fine friend to all of us over the years. But she’s ready for a little fun now. I’m told she’s planning to travel. I hope you’ll send us all postcards, Eby!”
The crowd chuckled.
Kate’s voice was low and tight as she said, “Two days ago, I said I wanted to give Eby money to save this place. You didn’t say a word.”
Wes shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t know what to say.”
“How about, ‘My uncle’s buying this place and I’m investing in it.’ What part of that tripped you up? I feel so foolish.”
“Don’t, Kate.” He reached out to touch her, but she jerked away.
Lazlo continued, “Lost Lake will live on. I will make sure of it. This place will soon be a thriving community! I’ve decided to call it Lost Lake Commons. Lots will start at very affordable prices, with lakeside condos going at a premium. There will be a billboard with contact information on the highway soon, so I look forward to hearing from you. Tell your friends!”
“What were you doing out here all this time?” Kate asked. “You obviously don’t give a damn about what happens here. You’re just going to tear it all down.”
“Let’s lift our glasses to Eby. Have a wonderful retirement!” Lazlo said. “Maestro, music! Let’s dance!”
Billy Larkworthy’s Bustin’ Bluegrass Band started playing again.
“Come on,” Wes said, taking her hand.
She tried pulling her hand out of his, but his grip was like a Chinese finger trap. The harder you fought, the more entangled you became. The only way out of it was to relax into it. “What are you doing?” she whispered loudly as he led her onto the dance floor, where several other couples and a few enthusiastic toddlers were dancing.
“You heard the man,” Wes said, putting an arm around her. “Let’s dance.”
He began to move. She tried stepping on his toes. It didn’t work. “I don’t want to dance.”
“So you just want to stand here and discuss this in front of everyone?”
She set her jaw. “What’s there to discuss?”
He spun her around, smiling at another couple, calling out a greeting. “You had two weeks here when you were twelve,” he said in a subdued voice. “Then you come back, out of the blue, and say you’re going to save everything, that you’re going to make it how it used to be. Forgive me if I had my doubts. Because, even if you did manage to save the lake, you still said you were leaving, which meant leaving the rest of us to deal with the reality of living here. Just like last time.”
Left them here? Is that what he thought? That she’d simply gone off and left them behind, like a glove or a toothbrush, something that was easily replaced?
She wanted to stay angry. Anger was a great motivator. She’d spent the past year feeling nothing but grief, so anger felt good. But she couldn’t hang on to it. He didn’t deserve it.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said, not meeting his eyes.
His chest jumped as he laughed. “That sounded painful. Did it hurt?”
“Yes,” she said, then added, “Will you tell Eby? Will you tell her you’re not selling?”
“I’ll tell her.”
“Right now?”
“In a minute.”
He didn’t want to let go of her, she realized. He wanted to dance on this floor like he’d seen people do when he was younger. She was sure any number of women here would be more than happy to dance with him, like Brittany, the girl from the Fresh Mart, who was frowning at them from a table. But he wanted her. A slow awareness came over her as they moved. She wished she was still angry, because then she could concentrate on that, and not this. She never thought she’d feel this way again. It frightened her. She didn’t want to fall for anyone. She didn’t want her life to suddenly go back to the way it was when she was with Matt. She didn’t think she had the strength to prop up another person for so long again.
Was that selfish? Was it different if you knew that the man you desired wanted just as much for you to be happy? Maybe that was the most frightening thing of all: Wes was that man. She’d known that when she was twelve, and she knew that now.
“Kate?” Wes said, when he felt her press her forehead against his chest, felt her hand squeeze his, conflicted.