Page 64 of Hold You Close
“I know.”
She starts singing along, fake mic and all, and I have to laugh because she has a horrible singing voice, but she does not care at all. Even the kids are groaning in the back, but London is in the zone.
“You’re the only girl I see. I want to wake up next to you. Will you be my once in a lifetime?”she croons dramatically.
I wonder if my windshield will crack.
“Uncle Ian, is she going to do this all the way to Lake Mead?” Christopher asks.
London stops singing and straightens up in the seat. “Lake Mead?”
“We rented a boat!” cries Ruby.
“You guys, you weren’t supposed to give it away,” Morgan scolds.
“That’s okay,” I say quickly, catching Ruby’s eye in the rearview mirror and giving her a wink. Her expression goes from worried back to joyful in a heartbeat. “It’s not that long of a ride, so she’d probably guess it pretty soon.”
London claps her hands. “I love Lake Mead! And I haven’t been on a boat in forever. When I lived in Chicago, my roommate’s family had a boat on Lake Michigan they kept at Belmont Harbor—well, it was fifty-five feet long, so it was more like a yacht—and I loved when they’d invite me out on it.”
“Well, princess, I’m sorry to say, our boat today is only a twenty-two footer”—she reaches over and slaps my arm—“but it’s perfect for waterskiing and tubing and knee boarding.”
She bounces around in her seat. “Really? Oh my God, I haven’t done any of that stuff in years! I’m not even sure I remember how.”
“I’ll teach you again.” I glance at her, wondering if she remembers.
A smile curves her lips. “That’s right. You taught Brina and me to water ski that summer your family got the place in Lake Tahoe. God, that was fun, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah.” For a moment, both of us get a little lost in the memory of that summer on the lake, when my sister was alive and life was uncomplicated, and our biggest problem was whether to kayak or windsurf each morning. “What was that, like twenty years ago?”
“Nineteen, I think. I remember I’d turned sixteen just before we went.”
Morgan pipes up from the backseat. “Aunt London, what were you like when you were sixteen?”
“She was an annoying little pipsqueak just like your mother,” I say with a grin. “Those two used to drive me crazy.” Imitating their high-pitched teenaged voices, I go on. “Ian, will you take us out on the boat? Ian, can you teach us how to waterski? Ian, will you put the kayak in the water for us?”
London leans toward me and smacks the top of my thigh. “And your uncle here was a big meanie. He never wanted us around, but your grandma and grandpa said he had to put up with us.”
“What was my mom like at sixteen?” Morgan asks.
My throat gets a little tight, so I’m glad when London answers the question, turning to face the back seat. “She was the best friend you could ask for. Outgoing, fun, always up for an adventure, always laughing, always sweet. Everyone loved her. And she was so loyal—she’d do anything for you. All you had to do was ask.”
“Did she like this music too?”
“Oh, totally. We used to blast it in her bedroom and drive everyone in the house nuts. One time your uncle stole all your mom’s CDs and hid them.”
“True story,” I say. “And I’m not sorry. You guys were obnoxious.”
“What are CDs?” Ruby asks.
I groan as London bursts out laughing, touching my leg again. This time she leaves her hand there. “It’s how we listened to music when we were young,” she explains. Then she looks at me. “That means we’re old, doesn’t it?”
“Probably. But we don’t have to act like it.” When I glance at her, she has a sexy little smile on her face that makes the crotch of my shorts feel tight.
“No. We don’t.” She lets her fingers brush inappropriately close to my junk before pulling her hand away, and it’s hard to keep a grin off my face.
I’m the happiest I’ve been in a long time.
“Uncle Ian,do we have to go home?” Morgan is wrapped in her towel, her hair dripping, her nose and cheeks pink despite the sunscreen. “I don’t want to.”
