Page 10 of Two Weeks in Tahoe

I woke up sometime in the afternoon the next day smelling like campfire and the slightest hint of citrus. I smiled to myself, realizing it hadn’t, in fact, been a dream. Earlier that morning before I went to bed, I did get an earful from Mom and Dad about how late I’d stayed out. They heard me come in. After their lecture, which really wasn’t all that serious, I immediately fell into bed, exhausted and finally crashing from the high of the night.

After remaining in bed for a while reminiscing on the night, I finally came out of the room to discover the most pleasant smell of baked goods wafting in the air. I immediately marched toward the kitchen to investigate. I found cookies and the whole family. I sighed as they all took me in, entertainment lighting their faces.

“Okay, let’s hear it,” I sighed.

“We have nothing to say,” my mom replied in a chipper voice. “Isn’t that right, David,” she continued, nudging my dad. He didn’t look quite as enthusiastic.

“Oh, come on! I spent an entire night out with a bunch of raucous youths—a first for me—and you all aren’t going to say a thing?” I prodded.

“Honey, it’s fine. I’m glad you put yourself out there and had a good time. It’s vacation, after all,” mom said.

“I hope you used a condom,” Grandma chimed in, silencing us all. My grandma had never filtered her words, never cared who was around to hear or how awkward it might become. She smiled through it all, as if she enjoyed it.

“Grandma, oh my gosh! We literally just sat around a campfire and talked all night!” I squealed, embarrassed as I dashed out of the room. My dad also made a quick exit in the opposite direction, uncomfortable with the direction the conversation took, I assumed. I heard my grandma still giggling as I went back into my room and shut the door.

As mortifying as that conversation had been, I had already moved on and was thinking about when I’d see Liam again. I wondered if I should just show up at his house or wait for him to come to me. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I chose to do nothing all afternoon. He was probably sleeping all day like I had, anyway.

Later that day, I emerged from my room, ready to face the embarrassment of what had happened with Grandma. The savory aroma of dinner filled the air, and my stomach growled in response. I still hadn’t eaten all day.

I found only my mom and dad sitting at the table enjoying some coffee and cookies together. Grandma was nowhere in sight. Sometimes, the way they looked at each other reminded me of a couple of smitten teenagers.

“Hey, hun,” Dad greeted me, noticing me first.

“Hey.”

“It’s safe out here now. Grandma is taking a nap,” my mom commented.

“That tiny, batty woman never did know when to bite her tongue,” my dad joked about his mother-in-law. We all laughed at her expense, though we all loved her dearly.

My mom stared at me from across the table with a small, thoughtful smile on her face.

“What?” I asked. Not unkind, simply curious.

“You’re just growing up. You’ve never really paid much attention to boys or stayed out all hours of the night. I’m happy for you though. Really. I could see that look in your eyes when you got home. Like you were floating on a cloud. It reminds me of when your dad and I met here.” She looked at him and smiled, and he kissed her hand, smiling back.

“Did I ever tell you about the time I met Sandra…” my dad began with a huge grin on his tanned face, his voice completely unserious. We’d all heard the story a thousand times. My parents had met in Tahoe City, many years ago. Mom had been staying in a cabin with a group of girls on vacation, and they met dad out at a bar one night. It took them only a few weeks to fall in love and decide they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. And the rest, as they always said, was history—or destiny, depending on who was telling the story. It seemed a little quick to me, but there they were, all those years later, still in love.

“Uh, yes dad, we’ve all heard it,” I groaned.

At that moment, Grandma emerged from her room. Dad and mom were being all mushy, talking about the past, but I absently watched my grandma. I noticed within a few seconds that she was walking strangely and had a confused look on her face. She stopped to hold onto the wall, looked right at me, and tried to speak, but her words seemed to fail her.

“Uh, Mom…” I whispered.

Grandma was having a stroke.

8

Layla

I’m at a local gym that was just a quick drive from the cabin. I’m finishing up my fourth mile on the treadmill when I spot a tall, very toned male from behind in expensive-looking designer shorts and a fitted shirt that’s tight enough to highlight every muscle in his back and arms. I realize almost immediately that it’s Liam. I probably would have recognized that dark, wavy hair from behind anyway, but I catch a glimpse of his face in the mirror, confirming it. Man, this really is a small town.

He’s loading some weights onto the bench press with a friend who is even taller than he is, and I can’t help but notice the veins protruding on his tan, tattooed forearms. I try not to stare too much from across the room, but there are only so many things to look at when you’re running long distance on a treadmill. I usually prefer to do my runs outside, but I draw the line at running in the snow when the temperature is near freezing. I notice that he never seems to glance in the mirror like most guys tend to do a little too much when they’re at the gym.

I finish up my run and then head to the squat rack farthest from him and his friend. I don’t know why I don’t simply go say hi. It’s not like he’s a stranger. I actually have his number now.

I crank up the music in my earbuds and try to get in the zone. Every now and then, between sets, I sneak quick glances to locate Liam. He and his friend have been bouncing between machines, so it takes me a moment to locate him on a treadmill. I don’t let my gaze linger for too long, hoping that he doesn’t catch me looking. I turn back to my machine.

After my last set, I’m unloading the weights when I feel a tap on my shoulder. I instinctively think it’s Liam, and I freeze for a moment before turning around to face whoever it is. Luckily, I’ve already checked the mirror several times prior to this, just to make sure my hair and face aren’t looking too crazy. I’m not trying to create any false illusions that I haven’t broken a single sweat, but I also don’t want to look too messy.

---