Page 17 of Two Weeks in Tahoe

“Okay,” I admit. “I will never question you again.”

“Thank you,” he replies, his tone smug.

It’s funny to imagine this man, who is undoubtedly over six feet tall and packed with muscle all over, slaving away in the kitchen all day in an apron baking pies, homemade ice cream, and a roast.

“I asked him to make the ice cream. It’s my favorite,” Jackson adds. “Because I was feeling sad earlier.”

“Oh. Well, what a great day,” I smile. “You found your truck, and you still got ice cream out of it.”

“Yeah, that’s true. And we’re still going ice skating tomorrow, right, Uncle Liam?”

“Not tomorrow—the day after, bud. After school.”

“Man. Well, that’s okay. I can wait.”

“I just hope I can beat you in a race this time.” Liam says.

“Probably not, Uncle Liam. I’m only getting taller and faster. You’re just getting older and slower,” Jackson says matter-of-factly.

“Wow. Okay. We’ll see. I’m not even thirty yet, dude. I haven’t even peaked yet.”

Well, that’s a scary thought. Can’t imagine how this man could peak any more than he has already.

“You’ll see, Layla. I’m really fast.” Jackson says to me.

At my pause, he continues, “You’re coming, right?”

“Oh, um…”

“You don’t have to…” Liam says in a lower tone that almost sounds like a question. Jackson hears anyway.

“No, she has to! It’s like, so fun.”

Liam looks at me, shoulders shrugged and palms up in mock defeat, as if the child has won the argument. Case closed. Does he actually want me to go?

“Okay. You know what, I have no big plans. Let’s see if I can beat Uncle Liam too.”

Jackson perks up, excitement bubbling over. “Oh, you totally can, Layla! He’s so slow!”

I sneak a glance at Liam. He’s smirking.

The pie is also mouthwatering, but I’m less shocked about it at this point. My mom and grandma would be in awe of the dessert Liam whipped up, and then they’d ask for the recipe, requiring detailed instructions. The thought makes me smile to myself as I recall that year we came here, the year we brought grandma. It was the same year I met Liam. I still remember them baking the day away, the day I left to get fresh air and stumbled into him.

We all laugh some more through dessert and make more jokes at Liam’s expense—mostly about his lack of skating skills, which I’m guessing he fakes for Jackson’s sake. But I guess I’ll find out for sure in a couple of days.

We take a long time to finish dessert, then I decide to head home before the storm gets any worse. The drive seems manageable, but Liam asks me several times if I’m okay driving back to the cabin. I assure him I’ll be fine and promise Big J that I’ll see them in two days for skating. This wasn’t what I had in mind when I decided that having a fling while I’m here might not be the worst idea. But oddly enough, I’m not all that upset about it.

12

Layla

Ten years ago

Grandma did end up having a stroke that day. The whole thing was a blur. An ambulance arrived, rushed her off, and we followed in the car, spending the rest of the day at the hospital. We sat impatiently in the waiting room as doctors came in and out giving us updates.

I was too scared and worried about her to think about whether we would go back to the cabin at all, or if I would ever see Liam again. Sometime later that evening, my dad drove back to the cabin to grab all our things. We stayed at the hospital that night, and we never went back to that cabin.

The doctors had said the stroke was minor and that Grandma would be relatively okay. She had some vision issues and her memory was a little foggy, but it could have been so much worse. They let her rest for the night, and the next morning, we were able to visit her.

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