Page 11

Julia

Everything was in place. Julia had her specialty drink in hand, and after her second, perhaps all her worries would melt away.

But this night, the top contender for most inebriated was undoubtedly Fiona.

She sucked back Lake Escapes with the urgency of a kid downing a Slurpee.

Her full, heart-shaped lips were tinged blue, like a goth girl’s makeup.

It was how a recent college grad would behave—which Julia figured was only eight years ago for Fiona, not twenty-eight like the rest of the adults.

Not that she should judge. She already had lingering guilt for having made assumptions about Izzy. Points for self-awareness?

The bonfire was roaring and the background music was perfect.

The set list Christian curated was just the right blend of classic and modern, country and rock.

They had plated the burgers and dogs, toasted to Cormac, fired off the Roman candles (albeit without Taylor’s participation).

Vacation was officially on—yet the knot of tension at the back of Julia’s neck wouldn’t go away.

Julia chided herself. Here she was, at the lake with Erika and David, a scene so familiar it felt like home, but she was unable to relax.

If only she could recapture the magic of the past.They were some of the best times of her life.

Julia’s mind catapulted her back to age fifteen, when she was younger than Taylor.

It was after midnight, and they’d swum out to the raft on a dare. She couldn’t remember if it was David or Erika who had issued the challenge, but all were game.

The swim was invigorating. The lake water felt holy, like Julia was immersing herself in a spiritual cleanse.

She opened her eyes underwater. The blackness should have frightened her, but it felt oddly comforting.

She used the raft to press herself up and out.

The water was warmer than the air, causing her skin to prickle, but soon David was lying on his back to one side of her with Erika on the other, and their wet bodies stuck together, providing welcome heat.

But it was more than that. In the dark, she could barely make out the contours of their forms. It was hard to tell where she ended and they began. They were one being.

The trio gazed up at the dark sky, awed by the sprinkling of white lights above them.

“The next closest star after the sun is four point three light-years away, but you can’t see it with the naked eye because the light’s too low,” David said.

“I don’t get how far that is,” Erika confessed. “I mean, I know it’s far, but, like, what does that really mean?”

David pointed to one of the brightest stars. “That star there is Vega. My dad taught me that.”

All were quiet for a moment. David’s father had died the year before, in the spring, and the mere mention of him felt fraught, the wound still fresh.

“That star is twenty-five light-years from Earth, meaning the light that we see right now is actually older than us by a decade.”

Erika exhaled. “I feel so small,” she marveled.

Julia could relate.

“The ancients knew to revere the heavens,” David said. “They understood that our lives are fleeting, but the universe is vast and powerful.”

For someone who could be egotistical, pushy, and loved making inappropriate sexual innuendos, David often surprised Julia with his depth.

“Let’s make a wish,” Julia suggested, “to that star, and in twenty-five years, when the light finally reaches us, it’ll come true.”

“Oooh, I love it,” Erika cooed. “I’ll go first. I wish—”

“You can’t tell everyone your wish,” David cut in. “Then it won’t come true. Everyone knows that.”

But they weren’t separate people, not in Julia’s mind. Tonight, three had become one.

“We belong to each other and to the lake,” she said, her words coating them like the droplets of water clinging to their skin.

“Fine, fine,” David relented. “But I’ll go first. I wish to be a millionaire.”

“How unselfish of you,” said Julia with a laugh. “You sounded so deep a moment ago.”

She meant it as a joke, but her comment struck a nerve.

“People are unreliable. Money is not,” David retorted, a catch in his voice.

Julia reached for his hand, thinking maybe it was the loss of his father, the shocking reality that our lives are transient, that made David yearn for riches. It was certainly a safer choice, offering endless adventure and distraction, and never leading to heartbreak.

“In twenty-five years, I’m not sure how far a million will get you,” said Erika. “What about you, Jules?”

“Me?… Hmm… I’ll go for world peace.”

David chuckled. “I think we need a star over a thousand light-years away for that to come true.”

They all laughed.

“Now you, Erika,” said Julia.

Erika fell silent. In the quiet, Julia connected to the rhythm of the night, the soothing sound of the wind through the leaves, the brilliant hum of life, the air cool and rejuvenating. But mostly she felt gratitude for her friends, the people who meant the most to her, outside of her parents.

“I wish that, twenty-five years from now, we’re just like this,” Erika said, burrowing even closer to her friends, her voice brimming with hopefulness. “Together. That we’ll always be here for each other, no matter what. That we won’t let each other down, not ever.”

Now look at them. David was off with Fiona, all over her as if clinging to a life preserver.

Meanwhile, Erika and Rick kept to themselves, continuing to behave as though nothing was amiss. They lounged on chairs, wrapped in cozy blankets, sucking down their respective drinks, and chatting quietly.

This wasn’t how the first night was supposed to go.

They should be in a circle, trumpeting like a gaggle of geese as everyone played catch-up.

Even Taylor and Lucas had caught the bad mojo.

Those two kept their distance like a divorcing couple.

Julia always thought Lucas carried a torch for Taylor, but maybe her daughter had to douse the flame and now it was awkward.

Christian set his drink down, his lips forming a grimace. “This thing tastes worse each year,” he said. “A fly would find it too sweet, especially without the booze.”

Julia agreed. The cocktails weren’t as good as she remembered. Had the recipe changed, or had they? She stood up—enough was enough.

Erika smiled as Julia approached. She tipped her glass from her chair. “Coming for a refill?” she asked. Her cheery expression implied life couldn’t be more perfect.

Julia put on a happy face as she plopped herself down on a stump that doubled as a seat. “No, just coming to say hi. Such a beautiful night.”

She directed her gaze skyward and drank in the air, inhaling that unique lakeside fragrance, while Erika savored a sip of her syrupy blue concoction.

“I can’t tell you how much I needed this,” Erika said. She stretched her legs out long, dug her bare feet into the soft earth. Even her ubiquitous phone was powered down and put away.

This is simple, Julia decided. Just be like Erika and let go. Vacationing is supposed to be easy. That’s the point, isn’t it? She sipped her drink, and to her surprise, it tasted better. See? It’s all in the mind. Julia allowed her shoulders to soften, and her whole body followed suit.

“Rick, how have you been?” she asked, aware that small talk worked best with him.

“Better now that I’m not teaching city boys how to tie a uni knot.”

Erika laughed on cue, whereas Julia’s reaction was delayed as she pieced together that he’d made a fly-fishing reference.

Julia and Erika were regular chatterboxes, but she always found herself at a loss for words when conversing with Rick.

Mostly she avoided it. It was better to let him boast about his ammo-making skills to Christian, not to her.

Speak of the devil. Julia felt Christian’s strong hands press down on her shoulders. He kissed her on the ear in a way that sent a shiver of desire racing up her spine.

“Happy to report, this city boy can tie that uni knot with his eyes closed, thanks to you,” Christian said to Rick as he dragged over a chair.

He leaned into Julia. “Maybe later,” he whispered.

When their eyes met, she knew what was on his mind. A teasing smile lifted the corners of his mouth.

Julia perked up. He looked sexy as hell in his white linen shirt. The creditors could take a back seat for a while. They needed this time together, just to be a couple.

Fiona (who had topped off her drink—again) and David soon joined them.

He sat next to Julia, their legs nearly touching.

Julia felt a pulse of anxiety at being so close to him, and it wasn’t just because of the house.

She let the feeling pass through her like a breeze.

The power of compartmentalization never ceased to amaze her.

And look at that. One little shift in her perspective, and it was like old times again.

No more Debbie Downer! This life lesson should go on Instagram.

Julia could see the clever captions in her head, earning her new followers as though she were an influencer: Be in the moment.

Relax and enjoy. Don’t try to control, just let it roll.

David, never at a loss for words, jumped into the conversation. “It’s funny, I was just telling Fiona about our last hunting trip with Rick,” he said. Clearly he’d overheard them talking. A satisfied gleam entered his eyes. “I had a good kill, but nothing like our fearless leader.”

“Personally, I think it’s cruel,” said Fiona. “Animals have families, too. It’s just mean to shoot them for a stupid trophy. Sorry, not sorry.” She was on the cusp of slurring, but that didn’t dampen her impassioned plea.

Julia was all smiles. Perhaps she’d misread Fiona. Add another life lesson to her influencer feed: The only way to tell if it’s a chocolate-covered raisin or a truffle is to look on the inside. Not bad, but definitely not her best work.