Skinny Dipping Season (19 page)

“You watch way too much television, Ellie,” Cherry said.

But her words had my own imagination going. I kept an eye on Flo, still outlined in the window. Her back was to me and she was craning her neck, trying to see something down the aisle. I couldn't help myself any longer.

“Stay here, both of you.” The girls started to protest. “Seriously, if something were going on we would know already. I just want to talk to Flo and make sure she feels okay.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Cherry, already bored and checking out the new smartphone her mother had finally bought her the week before.

Flo met me at the door and put her finger to her lip.

As my eyes adjusted to the dimness, I heard J. D. “Are you vacationing around here, son?” Nobody replied but I could hear the sound of shuffling from the back aisle.

“Excuse me, I didn't hear your answer. Let's try this once again: Are you vacationing around here?”

Whoever it was expelled an annoyed sigh. “Yeah. I'm visiting someone.”

A shiver ran up my spine.

“Anyone I know?”

“Probably not.”

I stepped closer, trying to get a better view and saw a skinny young man with unnaturally jet-black hair streaked with a shock of pure red. He wore a black T-shirt and sported a silver eyebrow ring and a dragon tattoo on his upper arm. For a minute I thought I was mistaken. But then he opened his mouth again.

“Am I doing something wrong, Officer? Since when did it become illegal for a person to shop in a bait store?”

“No problem with shopping in a bait store. Go ahead and shop all you want.” J. D. stepped back and gestured with his arm for the angry youth to pass him. Grabbing something from the shelf, the young man trudged to the front of the store with his purchase. He hadn't seen me yet.

“Do you take credit cards?” he asked Flo, who was wide-eyed at the exchange.

“Only on purchases of more than twenty dollars. This here amount comes to fourteen-eighty-two.”

By now J. D. had made his way back to the front of the store. I ignored the scowl he sent me for disregarding his request.

“You got a fishing license for that lure?” J. D. asked, leaning against the counter, still glaring at me.

“I don't need a license. I'm just fishing off a rowboat.”

J. D. put his hands in his pockets. “Doesn't matter.”

The angry young man started to protest.

I stepped forward and stood in front of my little brother. “Get the license, Elliot.”

I
hardly recognized him with his unnaturally dark hair and that tattoo. A duffel bag rested by his heavy black boots. Elliot was supposed to be tucked away in Toledo, attending summer school. I wanted to hug him. I wanted to shake him. I wanted to run back to the SUV. Because I knew deep down that it was not some school-sanctioned field trip that brought him to Truhart. Things were about to get complicated.

Flo held the credit card that she had been given and her gaze traveled back and forth from Elliot to me. “This says Elliot Lively. Are you two related?”

Elliot sent me a lopsided grin. “Hi, sis.”

I stepped forward until Elliot and I were practically nose to nose. Then, I put my hands on his shoulders and pulled him close. He leaned in, but didn't return the hug. I wasn't expecting him to. He hadn't really hugged me since before “the incident.”

I kept one arm around Elliot's stiff shoulder. “Flo, J. D., meet my brother Elliot.”

Flo clapped her hands together. “What a wonderful surprise.”

“Wonderful,” J. D. said with an edge to his tone. He ran his thumb and forefinger across the bridge of his nose.

Flo tittered in the background. “Oh, I love your sister! She's a great dancer. She even taught me a few moves, and I have always been considered pretty good myself.”

Elliot stared at Flo, confused by her rambling. But J. D.'s face was more alarmed. I could see him trying
not
to picture Flo pole dancing.

“My sister a good dancer?” Elliot asked. “Jesus, I always thought she danced like she had a stick up her ass.”

“Hey, that's not nice! And besides, you never saw me dance.” After my first night twerking, J. D. probably agreed with Elliot. But he said nothing.

Flo narrowed her eyes at his language. “Your sister has been the life of the town this summer. Right, J. D.?”

J. D. nodded and ran a hand across his mouth. “Hmm.”

“What are you doing here, little brother?” I asked slowly.

“Just passing through.” He acted as if it was normal to show up with no warning. My parents would never have let him come alone, and there was no Lincoln Town Car in the parking lot. Mom and Dad must be going ballistic.

Elliot leaned down to fill out the forms for the license Flo handed him. Questions raced through my mind, but I bit my lip. I didn't want to make a scene in front of Flo or J. D.

When Flo took his driver's license so she could complete the form, Elliot turned his back on J. D. and smiled at her. “How's the fishing?”

“It depends on which lake. I hear your sister caught a few good ones on Loon Lake,” she said.

I curled my toes and tried not to think of all the good things I'd done on Loon Lake.

Elliot finished paying and Flo handed him the license. “Have a great afternoon,” she said, taking a seat on the stool behind the register and opening a new novel.

J. D. and I followed Elliot out the door.

“I assume you are staying for a while?” asked J. D., pausing beside his truck.

Elliot put his weight on his back leg and let his jaw go slack. “No, I thought I would look for the botanical gardens and have tea with the queen.”

“Your attitude is awfully sarcastic for someone so young.”

“I'm not the one causing a problem. I don't know why you had to give me a hard time in there.”

“Believe me, I would rather be catching up on my paperwork right now. But some people are nervous around kids who look like . . .” He stopped himself, but his meaning hung in the air.

“Screw you!” said Elliot as he hauled the strap of his duffel bag over his shoulder, and then turned to me. “Where's your car?”

I propped open the door of the sheriff's SUV. “J. D. was driving me home.”

“I can walk,” he said, noticing the girls staring at him from inside.

“Get in, Elliot,” I said through my teeth. “The sooner we get to Grandma's the sooner we can catch up.”

He stomped his feet and brought up a cloud of dust. Then he released his breath in a huff and purposely kicked up more gravel as he passed J. D. on his way to the truck. He yanked the door open, threw the duffel bag behind the backseat, and climbed inside before slamming the door shut.

I walked to the passenger side and raised my eyes to J. D. He peered at me over the hood.

“I'm not sure this town is big enough for two Livelys,” he said, tilting his head.

“I hear you.” I shrugged my shoulders and got in. I didn't know what to do first. Call my parents? Question Elliot? Hide?

J. D. started the engine and I turned back to Elliot.

“How did you get here?” It was a start.

“Bus. It's longer than driving, but I couldn't get the car.” His casual tone sounded like he was just visiting from down the road.

“Do Mom and Dad know you're here?”

He looked out the window. “Not yet.”

And there it was. He had run away. I had suspected as much. But I'd hoped it wasn't the case.

“We should call them,” I said. “
You
should call them.”

“Feel free to leave a message on their machine. They won't answer. In between Dad's latest fund-raiser, Mom's Junior League bazaar, and their country club party tonight, they won't answer unless it's a donor calling. They'll figure it out by next week when there's still food in the fridge.”

Guilt washed over me. Things might have been different if I had stayed home this summer. Actually, things would have been different if I had never been arrested. Now my brother was on the verge of a meltdown in the same car with my by-the-books police lover. My two worlds were teetering on the edge of a messy, head-on collision.

“Hi!” said Ellie, oblivious to the tension in the car.

Elliot cocked his head and gave her a tiny wave with his fingertip. “Hey.”

“Hey E, are you friends with this dude? Or are you under arrest again?” Elliot asked, pointing toward J. D.

Cherry sat forward, and I knew she wanted to ask what Elliot meant by
again
.

I silently pleaded with Elliot to shut up. “What are you talking about? J. D.'s giving us a ride. He's a friend of mine.” I heard a giggle from Ellie and wished I could give her an elbow in the ribs the way Cherry was so fond of doing.

“I never did like your taste in men,” said Elliot with a sour purse to his lips. Cherry snorted.

I frowned at Cherry and turned back to Elliot. “My friends aren't your concern. But I'll tell you what
is
my concern, the fact that you left home without telling Mom and Dad. That was really stupid. And aren't you supposed to be in summer school right now?”

Elliot spotted the box of Twinkies and reached toward the bag. “Can I have one?”

“Ask Elizabeth. She bought them,” Cherry said. Elliot didn't bother. He grabbed one.

“Since when did you start eating like a human being, E? Last time I saw you it was all rabbit food and organic shit.” He unwrapped the Twinkie and took a huge bite. Then, with his mouth still full of cream, he gestured toward the girls and mumbled, “Are you opening up a babysitting service or something?”

A pink flush crept up Cherry's face. She curled her hair around her ear and looked out the window. “We should go home,” she said awkwardly.

“I told your mom I'd take you,” said J. D. into the rearview mirror.

I glared at Elliot. “I would never need to babysit these two like I usually do with you, Elliot. This is Cherry Miller. She is almost your age.” I nodded to Cherry, “Cherry, my brother Elliot. Excuse his earlier rudeness; he has S.A.D—severe attitude disorder. Once you know him, he's not so bad. But he tends to make really bad first impressions.”

Elliot leaned back and shoved the Twinkie in his mouth. I thought of the angelic little boy with beautiful blue eyes who used to follow me everywhere. The contrast to this scornful, bitter young man made me want to wash my hands. Taking a deep breath, I waited for Elliot to acknowledge Cherry more politely.

He tilted his head and said, “Hi,” before finishing off the Twinkie.

Ellie was completely oblivious to the situation. She studied Elliot as if she had just met the most fascinating person in her life.

“This is Ellie, Cherry's little sister.”

Elliot grinned at Ellie's infectious smile and offered her a nicer greeting, earning him a brownie point from me and a smile from Cherry.

We dropped the girls off at the Tall Pines and I walked them to the door. I gave them a list of things they could do to get started on their bracelet-selling business. They looked at me as if I'd lost my mind when I mentioned how to color code the thread. I bit my lip. I knew what I was doing, and what I was avoiding.

When I returned to the car, Elliot and J. D. sat in silence. I wanted to tell J. D. all about my baby brother. This wasn't the real Elliot. He used to tuck his hand in my pocket when we crossed the street. He always begged me to make chocolate-chip cookies on Sunday afternoons. He sobbed in the middle of the airport when I left for college.

When we pulled into Grandma's driveway, J. D. opened the tailgate and retrieved the duffel. “Can I get either of you anything? Extra sheets or pillows? I can stop by later—”

“You know what? I'm really thirsty and too tired for small talk, folks,” Elliot interrupted. “Feel free to discuss me while I'm gone. You got any soda, E?” Then he walked around the house and I heard the porch door slam.

I turned back to J. D. and sighed. He raised an eyebrow. “You mean all this time I've been calling you variations of Elizabeth and your nickname is just E?”

I crossed my arms in front of me. “Just E. Kind of like J. D. Isn't that interesting?”

Taking my stiff arms and pulling them down to my sides, he guided me around to the back of the car.

Lowering his voice, he said, “I thought you were a little rough at first, but your brother takes the prize. The punk hair, the tattoo, and the chains on his pants aren't exactly what a congressman's kid normally wears.”

“If you just want to complain about his clothes, J. D., save it! My parents have been complaining all year and it only makes him worse.”

“Shall we talk about the marijuana, then?”

“He's going through a phase right now. There's a lot of pressure to conform and be like every other seventeen-year-old. Elliot is just trying to find himself.”

“There are lots of ways to be different without going down a path of self-destruction.” He put his arm around me and gave me a brief hug and a kiss. I tried to hang on to it, but he backed away too soon.

“Call me if you need anything,” he said. I watched him drive away and wished I could go with him.

Elliot had returned to the front of the house and was squatting in front of the old gnome. “I can't believe this is still here.”

I ignored him and walked toward the front door.

He followed me. “Since when did you go from a wanker like Colin to an even bigger douche bag like him?”

I opened the door and let him through. “Don't try to shift the attention off yourself, Elliot. You make J. D. seem like Prince Charming right now. What's with the hair and tattoo?”

“I wanted to join a beauty contest and was hoping to win Miss Congeniality.” He turned and scanned me from my black tank top to the short jean skirt and unruly mop of hair. “But you may be able to give me a run for my money. I like the hair, but you need a tongue piercing, I think.”

A chill ran down my spine at the mere thought of piercing my tongue.

I made Elliot a sandwich, then I sat down across from him. He devoured it while I tapped the table. “You have me beat, you know. At least I told Mom and Dad where I was going.”

“Sure. And then you barely called after that. Hey, our parents couldn't care less where I am. Stop the teacher routine, E. You never really did that, anyway. Remember?”

I wanted nothing more than to hit the
rewind
button on my life. I missed the old days. The old Elliot. I was tired of the rancor. I shifted my attention to the window. It was such a beautiful day. Maybe we both needed a little fresh air.

“So, why don't you take a shower or change, then we can go for a walk. We could look for the eagles like we used to.”

“I just got my fishing license. Let's fish.”

“Right now? It's hot on the lake. Did you even bring any shorts?” He glanced down at his clothing. “Or are shorts too preppy for you?” I asked with a smile.

“I've got something I can wear.” He grabbed his bags and headed off to the bedrooms. I heard him bumping around in the back bedroom. “The place looks pretty good, almost better than when Grandma lived here—except for that burn in the middle of the living-room floor . . .”

 

An hour later Elliot reclined lazily in the old rowboat as it drifted with the breeze across Loon Lake. He wore a faded pair of soccer shorts and the same T-shirt he'd had on earlier. His pale face was already starting to show some color from the sun. It was going to ruin the urban-punk image and give him a healthy glow. In contrast, I was starting to feel burned.

A blue jay on the shore cackled, his shrieking laugh grating on my nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard.

For the past few months I had been able to forget the events that had blown up my world. Elliot showing up was like being prodded with the white-hot poker of reality. I was a fool to think I could forget my old life so easily. Even worse, I had ignored Elliot and his problems.