After I brought the bread out, I sliced a piece and handed it to her.
Heather moaned as she took it into her mouth. My traitorous dick twitched at the sound, and I did my best to ignore that.
She spoke with her mouth full. “Who knew day-old bread could taste so good?”
“It is pretty damn good,” I agreed, taking a big bite. “It’s mmm…bop. MMMBop.”
I cracked myself up.
Heather stopped chewing. “That song was…um…it was just playing on the…”
“On your iPhone. It was playing on your phone because you put it there, because you like cheesy nineties’ music. Nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Hey, it’s the decade I was born into. I have a special appreciation for it. I missed a lot of good stuff when I was too young to remember, apparently. So maybe I do enjoy the occasional unique song.”
“I have a feeling it’s more than occasional. In fact, I’d love to see what else is on that phone.”
She bit into more bread. “You’re never gonna find out.”
I hoped she knew I was teasing. I mean, her taste in music was…different. But so was she—in a good way.
She leaned her head against the side of the house and closed her eyes, almost looking ready to fall asleep, but then she opened them and stared out toward the lake.
It hit me in this moment how comfortable she made me feel. (Well, she made me feel comfortable, and that made me uncomfortable.) Heather was the type of person you could just hang out with in silence. She gave the impression that you could tell her anything and she wouldn’t judge. At the same time, it was okay to say absolutely nothing at all and just be.
Before coming to the lake, I hadn’t known what to expect from this place. I sure as hell wasn’t planning to feel so at peace here. It had crossed my mind that I could live this simple life forever. That wasn’t an option, but it was a nice thought.
As if she could read my mind, Heather asked, “So, what’s your next step?”
“Next step?”
“What will you do when August ends? Return to Pennsylvania, get back to work?”
“Yeah. I can’t leave my business for too long. Or my father.”
“Is your father ill?”
“No, but he’s the only family I have there. My mom and my brother who’s married with three children all live in Minnesota.”
She grinned. “Uncle Noah.”
“Yeah.” I smiled, thinking about my two nephews and niece. “My mother moved there to be closer to my brother and his kids.”
“Your parents are divorced, then.”
“Yeah. Ever since I was about your age.”
“Well, I’d say sorry, but sometimes divorce can be a good thing if the situation that preceded it was unbearable.”
“That’s very true. In my parents’ case, though, it was amicable.” I paused a moment. “What about your parents? You haven’t mentioned your father at all.”
“My father remarried when my sister and I were young. He has two daughters with his new wife, and I barely see him. They live in western Massachusetts. He returns to the lake once a year, stays at a hotel, and comes over for dinner. He mostly criticizes my mother and me, then leaves. I dread that visit because my mother is always a wreck the entire week before, during, and after. Well, even more of a wreck than she already is.”
Shit. That couldn’t have been easy for her—that her dad had another two daughters he spent all of his time with. Overall, he sounded like an ass.
“That must be hard for you…”
“Yes, but I can’t change it, so I try to accept it. Aside from his yearly visit, I go to visit them a couple of times a year. I was always more accepting of the situation than Opal, but she had other issues affecting her reactions to things. She saw my father leaving as pure abandonment. I’ve tried to see it differently—that sometimes people don’t get things right the first time around in life. He seems happy now. I know he regrets leaving us the way he did. He’s told me so. Even though knowing that doesn’t make it any easier, I forgive him.”
“I admire how you handle what you’ve been dealt,” I said.
“All I can do is my best. I try not to dwell on the sad stuff, and I try to find some happiness in every day, even if it’s only one thing.”
“What was your happiness today?”
She looked me straight in the eyes. “This…hanging out with you.”
I cut her another piece of bread to deflect how that made me feel, which was all sorts of fucked-up inside. If she asked me that question, my answer would be the same.
I watched her chew on the bread. It was oddly sensual, giving her food piece by piece and watching her eat it. Or maybe that was my depraved mind wishing I could give her something more. Maybe in a different time, a different world, that would have been possible. But in this reality, Heather was too good for me, too innocent and pure.