Page 15 of Two Weeks in Tahoe

Liam names a particularly fiery, fierce character, saying it with confidence, not missing a beat. He stares me down as he lifts his own glass of wine and holds it out to me. “Cheers,” he says, fixing me with his gaze.

“Cheers,” I reply confidently.

I break my gaze away from Liam first, shifting my body back toward Jackson with a smile. “Who is your favorite, Big J?”

“Oh, there are way too many. I could name like ten that are my favorite. And the new movie is so, so cool. I’ve seen it like a hundred times. Have you seen it?”

“There’s no exaggeration there,” Liam adds with a friendly, teasing manner. I’m guessing they watch it a lot.

I observe them for a moment as they interact, discussing the movie Jackson is so fond of. I admire the close bond they clearly share. Jackson seems completely at ease with his uncle.

“Layla, I could show you my card collection if you want?” Jackson’s innocent little face looks up at me, hope gleaming in his brown eyes. I can’t possibly say no to this kid.

“I would absolutely love to see them,” I respond enthusiastically. His face lights up, and he jumps down from his stool, disappearing up the stairs in a flash. I giggle, then shift my gaze back to Liam, aware of his attention on me throughout the entire exchange.

He stands there, arms crossed, smirking.

“What?”

“How do you know about that show?”

“I don’t know. I’ve heard the name around…it’s pretty popular,” I reply honestly.

“Are you sure you’re not hiding a secret hobby? No judgements here.”

“No. I’m not. And how do you know any?”

“From hearing him talk about them constantly and also watching the movie adaptation eighty-five times.” Right. Duh.

“So…he’s around a lot?” I decide to change the subject and poke around a bit. I suddenly realize I want to know everything about his life now. If he went to college, if he ended up working in computers, if he has anybody…

“Yeah. He is.” His look turns solemn, and I can immediately tell I’ve touched on a sensitive subject. It doesn’t feel like the right moment to question further, so I switch topics.

“So, you said the other day that you were born and raised here?” I choose my words carefully. I don’t want to mention anything from our brief past, or clue him in. Maybe because I’m waiting for him to figure it out on his own. Or maybe because deep down, I’m slightly offended that he doesn’t seem to remember me at all when it took two seconds for it to come rushing back to me. Rationally, I know it was so long ago and it’s completely understandable that he wouldn’t remember some random girl who he met while she was on vacation all those years ago. It was one night that we spent together. And then he was gone forever—or so I thought.

He eyes me for a moment before answering.

“Yes. Born and raised. I only left for a few years when I went to college. Berkeley. Dropped out before senior year, though.”

“Why?”

“Here they are!” Jackson’s excited voice booms from behind me.

I turn and watch him skip back to his seat with a look of glee mixed with pride on his face. He sets his thick binder on the counter in front of us and gets to work flipping through the pages, showing me his favorites and the rare ones. The three of us talk and laugh, and I ask questions about what all the numbers mean. Jackson then gives a deep explanation that I only partially follow. Liam is too distracting.

Liam and I keep making eye contact during the presentation, so it’s hard to focus on what Jackson is saying when I’m trying to decipher what Liam’s expression means. I’ve noticed he almost always has that damn hint of a smirk on his face that makes it so hard to read what he’s actually thinking. I also kind of like it though. It’s a little bit sexy. And just a little frustrating.

I turn my attention back to Jackson before Liam catches the flush that I feel creep up into my cheeks.

Liam busies himself with finishing up the roast, which smells amazing. I suddenly realize that I haven’t eaten all day, and my loud stomach confirms it. I slow down on my glass of wine until I can get some food in my belly.

After only a few more minutes, he instructs us to make our way to the dining table, which is in a separate, open room connected to the kitchen. The large, wooden table is polished and quite stunning, already set with festive place settings. I once again wonder about the living arrangements here. The table settings don’t exactly scream bachelor, but you can’t judge a person solely based on that.

The thought hits me suddenly that maybe he can relate to me more than I realize. Perhaps, like me, he’s lost his parents as well. And that’s why he seems to have taken over their house now. The reminder of them catches me off guard and turns my mood somber. I take a seat quietly, staring at a pinecone in the decorative centerpiece. The thing about grief is that it can hit you at the most inopportune times, rearing its ugly head in an unwelcome assault on your emotions.

“Are you okay?” Liam asks, his smirk replaced with a look of concern.

“Yeah.” I plaster a smile on my face. He’s already placed the food in the center of the table, complete with serving utensils.

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