Page 18 of Two Weeks in Tahoe

It wasn’t until we got back home later that day, and I calmed down after realizing Grandma really was going to be fine, that my thoughts started to drift to Liam. A quiet panic swept over me when I realized we never exchanged numbers or anything. My parents were still driving back and forth to the hospital for the next week, busy with Grandma’s care and figuring out when and how they would get her back home. Or if they were going to send her back home at all. I couldn’t bother them with my silly boy problems. It was clear they were both stressed by the whole situation.

After a few weeks of Grandma staying with us while she recovered, Mom flew her back out to the East Coast. She loved it there and wanted to be back around her friends. It was her home, she had said.

Dad was back to work and busier than ever. He had to pick up a lot of extra tasks around the house that Mom usually handled. I tried to help out where I could. Mom was going to be gone for several weeks while she helped get Grandma into an assistant living home back in Florida.

Weeks turned into months, but I still thought about Liam. I never voiced it out loud, though. It felt silly at that point. What was I supposed to do—ask Dad to drive me back to Lake Tahoe so that I could knock on his door and…what? Ask for his number? He had probably forgotten about me by then. But I hadn’t forgotten him. The boy who gave me the best night ever, who woke something in me, was gone from my life in the blink of an eye. It wasn’t fair. Sometimes, I wished I could go back to that week. I would have gone with Dad the night he went back to get our stuff, and I would’ve knocked on Liam’s door and gave him my number. And maybe one more kiss.

**

That next Christmas, we didn’t go to Lake Tahoe. Instead, we went to Florida to visit Grandma. A small part of me still clung to that magical spring night. I wanted to go back, just to see if he was still there. To see if what we had between us was still there. But I felt selfish asking.

The following spring break, I begged to go back. And that time, we did. I brought my friend Daniela along, who knew all about Liam. Or “the one that got away,” as she called him. She tried to convince me to go knock on his door, but I didn’t have the courage in me. It had been too long. A full year had passed, and he’d most likely gone off to college. When I pictured him opening the door to find me on the other side, it never went well in my head. The most I let Daniela convince me to do was walk along the same shore here and there, hoping for a chance encounter. It never happened. It didn’t even look like anyone was home at his house the entire week we were there. I watched it from afar. I didn’t fixate on it, though. We also spent a lot of time kayaking, hiking, and simply enjoying the outdoors.

The years went by, and gradually, the memory of that one unforgettable night with the boy who made my heart race faded into a distant corner of my mind. I was busy with college, and my parents were enjoying retirement. We only returned to Tahoe City as a family a few more times, but those trips were filled with cherished memories. One summer, a few months after my twenty-first birthday, I got absolutely hammered at the tavern, and Mom and Dad laughed about it for years. Then their accident happened, and I fell into a deep pit of despair, slowly trying to claw my way out.

13

Liam

I’m outside Layla’s cabin, knocking on the door. I realized the other night after she left that I should have offered to pick her up, but I got side-tracked. Between that smile of hers, her subtle fruity scent that I can’t get enough of, and Jackson, it’s hard to keep my head on straight. Plus, I had a long day in the kitchen, cooking and baking all of Jackson’s favorites. It was a miracle when Layla showed up with his truck. I don’t think she realizes how much that meant to him. I’m not entirely sure it’s smart to keep pushing to be around her when she’s probably leaving soon, but I can’t help myself. Then again, it’s mostly been Jackson’s doing. I’ve simply encouraged it a little.

Layla finally opens the door, looking surprised to see me. Her brown eyes widen in surprise, but I do a quick scan of her from head to toe, and she seems ready to go. She’s dressed in a low-cut green shirt, a black peacoat, leggings, and a beanie with a silly little ball on top. It’s cute.

“Afternoon,” I say with a huge grin.

“Afternoon. Did we…?”

“We never made plans for me to pick you up, but I realized this morning that it only makes sense. Hope you don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” she says quickly, then flushes. “I mean, yeah it makes sense. Thank you for coming by.” She peeks around me to wave at Jackson, waiting in the truck. I turn and find him waving back with enthusiasm.

“Great. Are you ready then? No rush. We can wait.”

“I just need to throw on my boots,” she replies.

She shoves her feet into some dark boots that go up to her calves, and I watch her absently scrunch her nose in concentration as she locks the door. It’s adorable.

Back in the truck, Jackson immediately takes over the conversation for the entire drive. Layla never falters, staying actively engaged with him the whole time. I smile, listening to them banter, only piping in now and then. Apparently, Jackson has a new best friend, and my opinions aren’t wanted. I don’t blame him, though—she’s captivating when she speaks. Every now and then I sneak glances over at her while she’s responding to one of Jackson’s inquiries.

**

The skating rink in Tahoe City isn’t too crowded today, probably because it’s an especially freezing day. At least it’s not supposed to snow this morning, though you never really know here.

We check in and I buy everyone’s skates. Layla protests that she’ll pay for her own, but I insist. We invited her, after all. Well, Jackson did. Who knew he’d end up being such a great wingman? He got her to have dinner with us and come ice skating, all within a couple days. The kid is good. I’m not sure if she would have come to either event if it had been only me.

It’s been a few years since I’ve been on a real date with a girl, and now I’m on one with Jackson. It’s a big leap. She may not yet know this is a date, but I’m treating it as one anyway.

Jackson takes Layla’s hand once they’re all laced up and ready to go and pulls her out onto the large spread of ice. With Thanksgiving in only a few days, it’s usually so packed that you can barely move out there. But today, Jackson is able to skate around more freely. Layla doesn’t stumble or miss a beat as he pulls her along, and I hang back, smiling and watching.

They pass me on a turn, laughing together while making comments about my slowness, but I carry on at my own pace, smiling the whole way with my hands tucked in my pockets. Ice skating hasn’t always been my idea of a good time, but the kid loves it, so I enjoy taking him.

On the other side of the rink, I see them start to race. Jackson edges Layla out at the end of their short sprint. I’d guess that she let him have that one. He shouts over to me that I’m next, and I grin and give him a thumbs-up. Of course, I always let him win.

“Uncle Liam, did you see me win?” Jackson exclaims excitedly.

“Yeah, kid. I saw it. Very impressive. You might even be faster than last year. I don’t know if I can take you.”

“We’ll see, old man,” he says with a confident smirk.

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