Page 11 of One Short Summer

So dang afraid the accident left me damaged in a way that’s irreversible.

“You’ve made such great progress since last year. What did your doctor tell you?”

We’ve been over this before, a million times it feels like, but I know what he’s trying to do.

So, I repeat what we both already know by heart. “He said the bones are all healed, that I did everything right in my rehabilitation phase. He always praised Alex for doing a good job with my physical therapy, that he kept me going when I didn’t want to. But he’s a slave driver and gets a kick out of torturing others, so that’s no surprise. Anyway, he’s helped a ton, even after I was done with his regular sessions.”

“Yeah, I know.” Gabe’s mood has done a one-eighty, but I should have known. That’s his usual reaction whenever I bring up Alex. Gabe’s hands clench a little tighter around the steering wheel, and he looks like someone just rained on his parade.

In this case, that someone would be me.

All I know is that they used to be best friends until they suddenly weren’t anymore, but no one seems to know what happened all those years ago in college, and Alex never wanted to talk about it either.

Stubborn men.

“You know I’m happy he helped you get better, but I don’t want to talk about him.” His voice has softened a little, and I nod.

Even though I’m burning with curiosity, I respect his decision. I have people and past events in my life I don’t want to talk about, let alone think about either.

So, I nod again.

His jaw is clenched, just like his hands around the steering wheel, and I sigh. Even though I enjoy pushing his buttons every now and then—okay,a lot—I also don’t want toreallybug him, which is why I know when to stop. He’s become a very important person in my life, and I don’t need him mad at me over something stupid that only ends up causing a rift between us.

Not worth it.

Since we both seem to be done with our respective topics we don’t want to talk about, we’re in desperate need for a subject change, and I ask the first thing that pops in my head. “Want to tell me more about the area we’re headed to?”

His hands relax, the color slowly rushing back into his pale knuckles. “What do you want to know?”

“Anything. I don’t have a clue what to expect. You practically kidnapped me. How very caveman-like of you.” I try to lighten the mood and am relieved to see I’ve succeeded when Gabe can’t hold back a small grin.

There.

That was easy, but that’s our relationship—our friendship—in a nutshell.Easy.

I like to push his buttons and get him all flustered, but I still know he’s the nice guy, the awesome friend and protector I so desperately needed this last year—even though I might not ever admit that out loud. He’s my knight in shining armor, when I haven’t been the best company for quite some time now.

That’s more on me being a baby, and a little scaredy-cat, than on him though.

He ignores my last statement with a little shake of his head and starts answering my question instead. “The house is in a quiet neighborhood but only a few blocks away from Main Street. It has a nice little small-town feeling to it, kind of like Brooksville. Everyone knows everyone and seems to be in each other’s business, whether you want them to or not. I guess it just feels like a home away from home. It’s all very family-oriented and friendly. Quiet. Calm. Happy.”

“That sounds nice.” I think about his words for another moment. “How often do you go there?”

“At least once a year, but more often if I can make it work with my schedule.”

It doesn’t escape me this is the first time he’s going since I’ve stayed with him, but I don’t say anything.

“Do you get most of your writing done there?”

He nods and a small smile appears on his face. “I know it sounds weird, but there’s something special about that place. When I write at home, I usually get stuck in the story at some point. It’s almost like something is blocking me, but up at the lake, that writer’s block starts to disappear within the first day or two. Once the words flow, it allows me to get my first draft written within a few weeks. Back home, it’s mostly editing then.”

“That’s awesome. Definitely sounds like magic to me.”

He chuckles, and I’m happy the momentary bad mood from before has disappeared. Just like always. “I told you it’s a special place. You'll see. Maybe it has some magic left for you too.”

Taking the next exit for a rest stop, Gabe parks the truck before turning to me. The smile he gives me is genuine, and I know he really believes in what he just said.

I wish more than anything he’s right.

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