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With her head held high, she walks past me and leans in to give May a hug. “If I’m not back by five, send the police after me.”
May laughs, but something in Lila’s stare makes me think she’s not joking. Why would she think that I'd hurt her- Oh, oh, I get it. Because I’d hurt her when I left without saying goodbye. With a reluctant expression, she makes her way to the door. The bright sunlight streams in, and the bell tinkles as she opens the door. The glance she tosses over her shoulder likely isn’t designed to be seductive, but she is all the same.
Once we’re loaded into my car, I turn to her, but she ignores me. “I have missed you, Lila,” I say. She doesn’t acknowledge me, and I turn over the engine. The low, persistent hum of my car is the only sound as we drive. I can't tell if she has nothing to say or so many things she's not sure where to start.
I remember the drive as if I'd driven it yesterday rather than the nearly a decade it’s actually been. Every few moments, I glance at Lila. Her eyes stay distant despite her physical presence, and I sense she’s here, but miles away.
“Do you remember how many times we made this drive?” I ask, trying to break the silence and bring back good memories.
I glance at her and catch her barely perceptible nod. At least it's a reply.
When I pull into the parking area and kill the engine, I turn toward her. There are so many things I want to say, starting with the fact that I'd like us to have a good time today. Instead, I decide to say nothing at all and open my car door.
The cold, fresh air hits me like a brick to the head as I stand up and close my door. Opening the back door, I grab the picnic basket before making my way around to her side. She's already out standing on the gravel, leaning back on my car. Her gaze takes in the woods and cliff face around us, and her arms protectively cross her chest.
The basket in one hand, I reach my other hand out to her, offering to thread our fingers together like we used to do. She stands upright but doesn't take my hand. Instead, she falls into step beside me as we make our way down the gravel path. I glance around, realizing this place hasn't changed much at all. Some of the blackberry bushes are more overgrown than I remember, and at least one tree has snapped in half, standing like a jagged, orange tooth poking into the sky.
“Have you been out here since...?” I ask, trailing off as I glance at her.
She closes her eyes and shakes her head.
The crunch of our shoes on gravel is the only sound I hear until the birds decide we must not be a threat and begin to sing their hearts out. “The time we saw that doe with two baby fawns?” I ask, remembering how still they’d stood, until the mama twitched an ear and her spotted babies began to walk.
Lila nods, her attention fixed on something far away as she walks.
I decide to stop trying to force conversation and we walk in silence toward the picnic tables I remember so vividly. The wood table and benches are more worn than I remember, thanks to the elements, but someone had been caring for them well enough.
The picnic basket is heavier than I remember, the sandwiches and sweet tea a throwback to years prior when we’d come out here. Past the picnic table, the lake comes into sight.
The perfectly clear, blue water allows us to see all the way to the blue-green bottom. Icy cold water perfectly preserves old trees that once grew in its spot, as well as the bones of the homes the first settlers here built, back before this area became a lake.
When we were young and crazy, we’d come under the cover of night, get buck naked, and swim in the freezing cold water. I’m not sure I could even get naked out here in the cold, never mind the icy water. But as I looked over the submerged history of a time long-forgotten, I can’t help but wonder if our past is just as doomed to obscurity.
Because those trees and old remnants of buildings deeply submerged and mostly forgotten remind me of my feelings for Lila all these years.
“Sit,” I say, gesturing to the table as I place the basket on the wood. She does so, her attention fixed on some point far away and possibly in another time. I try not to notice how mechanical her movements are, or the feeling that she’s merely doing what she’s told to get through this experience and not have to deal with me anymore.
I offer her a sandwich, and she snaps back to the moment, staring at the food, then at me.
I smile. “I remember. Roast beef and cheddar. Pickles, onions, mayo. Extra cheese and pickles.” Her lips almost hint at a smile, then she remembers the events since those carefree days and her joy fades. Her gaze skitters across the lake's surface, dodging mine.
“We shared our first kiss,” I say, the words hanging between us. “Right there.” I gesture at the water, remembering how she’s wrapped around me like an octopus before bringing her lips down on mine in a burst of excitement.
“You don’t have to chronicle my mistakes,” she says, her gaze ticking to mine. Then anger seems to spread through her, leaving her trembling. “How dare you?”
I don’t understand her fury.
“I don’t understand,” I say.
Her eyes only blaze hotter. “How dare you bring up our first kiss?”
“Wha-?”
“Engaged.” The word slices through me like a razor’s blade. “To someone else.”
With that, she stands up, ready to bolt and I leap to my feet to stop her.
“Wait, Lila-”
