Page 21 of What You Never Knew

“That’s the Ezra logic I remember.”

He glares at me but then laughs and goes to the fridge. “Would you like a beer, my dear?” He grabs two and holds one out to me. I take it, and we both twist our caps off. “These are from a local brewery,” he says, taking a sip.

I do the same and am pleasantly surprised. “It’s good.”

“Yes, June Bennett, we do have things to offer up here. There are many reasons to stay for the summer.”

“That’s handy, because I wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon.”

He reaches out and clinks his bottle against mine. “Good to hear.” His words and the way he looks at me make my stomach twist with excitement. I take another sip of beer to wash it away, but it’s pretty persistent.

“So how about that dinner?” I say, trying to direct my mind to utilitarian matters only. “Am I helping with this, or shall I sit and watch?”

He points to the kitchen table. “You sit there and keep me company.” For once I’m happy to do as I’m told.

Ezra goes out back and manages to get the barbecue grill standing again. He finds charcoal in the storage room and in no time has it cleaned off and lit. While he waits for it to heat up, he starts on the salad. I sit there and drink beer and watch him. He seems to know the cottage well, which makes me wonder if he might know about other things on the rest of the island.

“Do you know anything about a clearing in the forest on the other side of the island?”

He stops cutting the red onion and gives me a confused look. “A clearing in the woods? Nope, can’t recall it. I only ever pull up to the dock. Haven’t been to that side since we were kids.”

“It’s no big deal,” I say, even though the truth is that the cross creeps me out. “It’s just that when I first found the clearing, I saw a cross stuck in the dirt in front of a tree. I chucked the cross into the woods, but when I went back there today, the cross had reappeared.” I hear how ridiculous it sounds as soon as it’s out of my mouth.

He frowns. “Weird.”

“Whatever; just forget about it. I’m sure it’s nothing,” I say, worried he’s going to think I’m some nutcase going on about crosses in the woods.

“Maybe just put up some ‘no trespassing’ signs?” he suggests.

“Good idea,” I say, then quickly move the conversation on to new things.

We use the time to get caught up. I learn that he runs a cottage maintenance business just like his father did, Keen Cottage Maintenance. That he lives in the apartment above the boathouse of his childhood home so that he can take care of his mom without living in the same house. I learn that he’s a university graduate but did it all online so that he could run his business and be there for Willa. That he had a husky named Salinger but had to give him away because his mom mistook the dog for a wolf one too many times, which caused her to have episodes.

I learn that he likes books more than TV and that he listens to podcasts about music while working and music in the car. He drinks only craft beer and would one day like to open his own brewery or maybe a retreat for troubled youth on one of the islands up here.

By the time dinner is on the table, I feel as though no time at all has passed and we’re right back where we left off. I open a bottle of red to go with the steak, and we settle in the dining room with the back doors open and only candles to see by. My mother would have been very proud—dinner with a handsome man by candlelight.

“You were pretty hungry?” Ezra says when we finish. I look at what remains and realize I’ve eaten an entire steak and half the loaf of bread.

“I haven’t eaten that well in a long time. Thank you.” I bow my head in gratitude, wonderfully full from the meal and perched on the right side of tipsy.

I clear the table and do the small collection of dirty dishes, and Ezra goes into the living room to put a record on. Already we have that nice rhythm back to our time together—natural and easy.

Several minutes pass before the heavy drumming of the first song on the Beatles’ White Album reaches me in the kitchen. I finish up the dishes, dry my hands, and grab my glass of wine before heading into the living room.

Ezra is sitting at the coffee table. “Did May take these?” He holds up one of May’s photos. I unintentionally left them out on the coffee table.

I nod. “I found them last night.”

He holds up the one of us kissing. “My first kiss,” he says.

“Mine too.”

“And if I remember correctly, it was you who initiated it.”

I scoff loudly. “It was so not. You leaned in.”

He shakes his head. “Nope. Totally you.”