The Long Journey to Jake Palmer (5 page)

J
ake didn't want this journey. Didn't need it. Now that the trip had arrived, he regretted committing.

As he zipped down I-5 toward Oregon on a warm July morning, he checked the weather for the area surrounding this Willow Lake, where the five of them would be staying for ten days of riotous fun. Yeah, right.

His phone said nine out of the ten days would be full-on sunshine. Wonderful. How exciting. Jake tossed his cell onto his passenger seat and bumped his fist into his forehead. He didn't need sun while they were there. He needed rain. Every day. Wouldn't have to put on shorts that way. But that was another fantasy that wouldn't be coming true.

Come on. He needed to shake off the Mr. Gloom act and believe good things were coming. Wasn't that the other thing he'd promised Peter? He would act happy. Besides, he didn't need to hide from his friends—they didn't care about his scars.

Six hours later he exited the freeway and found himself coasting along a winding, leafy road heading west. Forty-five minutes after that he took Mullins Road heading southwest, and
twenty-three miles later he reached the turnoff to Willow Lake. He took a left, and when he came to a Y in the road, the only indication he was getting close was a signpost that said Willow Haven, Population 165.

He slowed and turned onto an asphalt road that looked like it had barely survived a meteor shower. Jake glanced at his temperature gauge. Seventy-nine. He turned off the AC and rolled down his windows. The air felt good, and he stuck his hand out and let the wind rush through his fingers. The road led him through a dense cluster of pine trees, which cleared after a quarter mile. A flock of quail launched themselves into the air in front of his Jeep and the scent of wildflowers filtered through his window. Maybe it was just his imagination, or the power of suggestion, but a peace he didn't expect landed on him hard.

Three minutes later he saw a small sign on a huge willow tree that said Exerevnitis Lodge. This was it. He turned into the driveway and followed it for fifty yards till it stopped in front of a two-story cedar house full of windows and surrounded by juniper bushes and walnut trees. A large sign hung over the front door: “Life. Love. Passion. May You Find All Three Here.” Tough not to like the place with a greeting like that.

Jake put his Jeep in park, shut off the engine, and closed his eyes. Scattered memories from the past nine years flitted through his mind. Times on the other lake, long dinners full of laughter and tears, and stories that drew the six of them together in a way few groups of friends ever experience.

Peter said it would be the same. How was that possible? Two couples and him, flying solo for the second year in a row. How
could he watch the others doing the things couples do—the laughter, the conversations, the knowing looks and inside jokes—and not be reminded every second of what he'd lost? Not be taunted by the truth that he'd never again have someone to share life with? Every moment of the coming week would be tainted. Every conversation overshadowed by the past.

No. He wouldn't let it happen. This was a new day.

A loud rap on the window next to his head yanked Jake out of his contemplation, and he bolted up in his seat and cracked his knees on the steering wheel.

“Wow!” Pain shot through his legs and he gritted his teeth. He rubbed his knees. It would take a while to get the blood circulating again. He turned to see Peter's tall, lanky frame leaning down, his nose almost touching the window, a big grin on his face. Jake grimaced and pulled his keys out of the ignition. He opened his door and gingerly got out as Peter stepped back.

“What were you doing in there? Meditating?” Peter rubbed his light brown hair. “Get out and come see this place.”

Jake stepped out of his Jeep, rubbed his knees again, and glared at his friend. “You trying to give me a heart attack?”

Peter laughed and grabbed Jake in a bear hug. “Good to see you, Clark.”

“I thought we were done with that.”

“You'll always be Clark to me.”

“Let it go. I have.”

“No you haven't. Not deep down.” Peter threw his arm around Jake's shoulder and pulled him toward the cabin's front door.

“Where's Camille?”

“We got here an hour ago, settled in. She went for a run.”

Jake tried to keep a scowl from reaching his face, but apparently he didn't succeed.

“Don't worry, she'll be good. She promised.”

“That would be greatly appreciated.”

“She's your friend too, Jake.”

Jake clomped up the six wooden stairs to the front porch and admired the woodwork on the front door. It was teak. He glanced to his right and left at the wraparound deck.

“You want to come inside or take a look at the lake first?” Peter pointed in opposite directions, both arms outstretched. “It's pretty sweet. You can go either way.”

“Lake first.”

They walked to the right and followed the deck toward the lake. The deck planks looked like Cherrywood. Beautiful. Jake reached the corner of the house, and as the walkway opened up to a massive deck, the lake came into view. Crystal water spread out to his right and left like liquid glass. Perfection, not even the hint of a ripple. It mirrored the three or four clouds in the otherwise unmarred sky.

Jake guessed the lake was somewhere around a half mile across. Length? Probably three or four miles. It looked like the house sat somewhere in the middle of the lake. Green rolling hills rose from the other side, and the only hint of civilization was a house Jake could just make out that sat on the edge of the water directly across from them. He looked to the right. Apparently there was a boat launch at that end of the lake, but from this distance he couldn't tell.

Their rental home sat forty or fifty feet above the surface of the lake and had sweeping views in both directions. A well-groomed path led halfway down to the water. The rest of the way was serviced by thirty or forty narrow wooden stairs that led down to a storage shed and a sizable dock.

Two kayaks, the larger of the two a fire-engine red, the other a muted orange, hung on a large Maplewood storage shed. A dark green canoe rested upside down on the dock. Jake would definitely be making use of the boats.

“Impressive,” Jake said as a smile crawled onto his face.

“Check out the grill.” Peter grinned and pointed behind Jake.

Jake wandered over to a huge grill that sat in the far back corner of the deck. The corner closest to the lake housed a ten-person hot tub. Six wooden Atlantic steamer chairs formed a semicircle in the middle of the deck. He spotted a large, sunken fire pit in the far northwest corner of the lawn. A chill shot through him. Wouldn't be a place he'd hang out, but if it got cold enough at night the others might enjoy it.

“This place should work.”

“You chose wisely, Jake.”

“Thanks.”

He glanced at the french doors at the back of the house, then continued around the other side of the cabin, walked through the first door he came to, and found himself in the kitchen. Not as large as their usual summer home, but certainly gourmet. Peter would have fun in here.

The living room boasted cathedral ceilings and expansive windows facing the lake, and a large river rock fireplace took
up the far wall. The home was furnished with rustic log furniture and soft leather couches. The dining room table was made of myrtlewood. Stunning. Jake ran his hand over its surface and imagined the conversations he'd be having around this table over the next ten days.

To the right of the fireplace were shelves packed with books, some well-worn, some with spines that spoke of never being opened. Above the books was a painting Jake thought strange at first, but as he studied the picture, his aversion turned to intrigue. The painting was of an ancient, winding stone staircase that rose out of a thick green wood into even thicker clouds swirling with blues, reds, and muted golds. As the staircase climbed into the clouds, the clouds grew brighter till the stairs vanished into the light.

“Weird, huh?” Peter said as he joined Jake.

“It kind of makes me think of Jacob's ladder.”

“Yeah, it should. It's like a portal.”

“A what?”

“Portal. Camille's kind of into the idea, so she loved it when she spotted this picture. She's shown me others like it. They're portals or tunnels, or whatever you want to call them, into the heavenly realm. Just like Jacob's ladder. Supposedly they're all over the world, but especially in Ireland.”

“Okay.” Jake tapped his head.

“I know, it's wacky, but she likes the idea.”

Peter strolled over to the living room's coffee table and picked up a brochure. “Hey, did you see this?”

“What?”

Peter held up a trifold brochure. The headline on the front implored, “Take a Thrill Ride on Mountains of Sand!”

“We can rent ATVs and head out on the dunes. We gotta go. All of us. Only two hours from here. Listen to this part: ‘The Oregon Dunes National Recreation Area is over 300,000 acres of untamed and exhilarating dunes available for exploration year-round.' ”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Maybe? No way it's maybe, baby, we're going.”

They wandered back onto the deck through the french doors and stood with hands resting on the railing overlooking the glassy water.

“I gotta tell ya once more, you did good. This place is a find. Can't believe it wasn't already booked.” Peter grinned at Jake and slapped him on the back. “Listen, I think I just heard Camille come back, so I'm going to get my bags unpacked before she can ask why I haven't done it already. You want me to grab your things and bring them up to your room?”

“Nah, I'll get 'em later.”

“I'm just saying, you don't have to be a hero. I'm here, I can get them for you. Your car's open, right?”

“I'm good, Pete. Really.”

Peter clasped him on the shoulder. “Embrace the week, Clark.”

“Yeah, baby. All the way. You got it.” Jake grinned.

Peter pointed at him and said, “Don't mock me.”

“Never.”

Jake eased into one of the deck chairs as Peter meandered off. A slight breeze ruffled the surface of the lake, and Jake watched a mama duck and her babies skirt the shoreline. Most of him still
didn't want to be here, but enough of him did. Even with the challenge of facing what he'd now lost, this was a chance for him to stop living the lie for a few days.

A knock on the front door floated through the french doors out onto the deck. The knock was immediately followed by the sound of the door opening. Right after that a woman called out, “We're here!”

Jake rose from his chair and smiled. The voice belonged to one of his favorite people in the world.

J
ake shuffled toward the front door, where Susie and Andrew Hawthorne stood embracing Peter. Words spilled out of Susie like a fountain, and her laughter lit up the room.

Susie, his sister in every way except by blood. Jake stopped halfway across the living room and waited for her to spot him. When she did she threw her hands in the air, pranced over, and grabbed him in a bear hug.

“Yes! Finally. I've been dying to see you.”

“Hey, Sooz.”

Susie hugged Jake longer than normal. Jake hadn't seen her since his divorce was finalized right after last year's gathering and hadn't talked to her since this past May. He knew the fierce hug was her way of saying how much she was hurting for him. When they finally pulled apart, she took him by the shoulders.

“How are you?”

“Great. Really. Doing great.” He grinned and pointed at her pink top and faded designer jeans. “Nice duds as always.”

“Thanks.” She released Jake's shoulders and her face grew serious. “Now, how are you really?”

“Like I said, I'm good.”

“This is me, remember? Now, how are you?” Susie wasn't smiling. She pulled off her pink newsboy hat and shook out her thick blond hair that somehow always managed to look good.

“I just told you.” He laughed. “How many times are you going to ask me that?”

“Till you tell me the truth.” Susie poked Jake's chest right over his heart. “How's it going with this?”

He offered a tiny smile. “Still broken, but slowly healing up.”

“No contact?”

Jake glanced around the room and lowered his voice. “I'm not sure the other guests on the show would be interested in the subject, so I'm thinking we talk about it in, say, a decade or two.”

“Fine. Not now. At least not in detail. We'll save that for later. But for the moment, I do require an immediate answer, thanks.”

Jake shuffled over to the far corner of the family room and Susie followed. He stared at the sun doing a tango with the surface of the water and sighed. “She's dating someone. It's serious. I'm guessing she'll have a ring by the time I set up my Christmas tree. There might already be one on her finger.”

“Oh, Jake. I'm sorry. How long have they been dating?”

“Six months, but it's good.”

“How is that good?”

“I've finally given up my fantasy that'd she'd have a heart transplant and become the woman I thought I was married to for seven years.” He turned and glanced into Susie's sympathetic eyes. “I'm over it.”

“Does that mean you're ready to date again?”

“Not funny, sis. You know that's never going to happen. Not with the way I am.”

“The right woman won't care.” She took both his arms and squeezed.

“I had the right woman and she did care. You should've seen the way she looked at me—pity and disgust. Mostly disgust. Maybe all disgust.”

“She couldn't see what was right in front of her,” Susie growled.

“That's the problem. She did see it. All the time. She couldn't even touch me.”

“Come here.” Susie grabbed his arm and pulled him across the living room and out onto the deck. “Wow, nice view.”

Jake grinned. “Yeah, I think we might survive here for the next ten days.”

Five sprinkler heads along the back of the lawn popped up and sent their fine spray out over the dark grass.

When they reached the railing, Susie peered at him. “What are you staring at?”

“After all this time, I still can't stand the sight of them.”

Susie glanced out over the lawn in the direction Jake was looking. “Can't stand what?”

“Sprinklers.” Jake shrugged. “I know, I'm nuts for letting it bug me.”

“Sprinklers? What are you talking about?”

Jake tried to laugh.

“You want to tell me?”

“Nah.” Jake waved her off. “Not a big deal.”

“Let me rephrase that.” Susie jammed her hands into her hips and put on a mock fierce face. “You're going to tell me.”

“All right.” This time, he did laugh. “But the short version only. It's stupid to even think about it, but the summer I turned thirteen my dad had me put a sprinkler system into our lawn. Part of my Be-a-Palmer-Man education.” Jake clacked his teeth together. “I got an F.”

“What happened?”

“I can't believe I never told you about this. I put the whole thing in, but my lines weren't straight on six of the sprinklers.” Jake lowered his voice and imitated his dad. “ ‘Jaker, that's not quite going to make it, is it? No sir, nohow. That isn't the way a Palmer puts in a sprinkler system.' I told him it was close enough. Not the best choice of words, as you can imagine. You knew my dad.”

Susie's face went stark. “Yeah.”

“So I told him I'd dig up that section and do it again. But he decided that wasn't good enough. He thought it would be a good lesson for me to dig up the whole thing, even the parts that were done right, and redo the entire system. The whole thing.”

“You're kidding.”

“Got a C-plus the second time around.”

“No.”

“Oh yeah, but on my fourth try I got a B-plus and my dad only redid a quarter of it the next weekend.” Jake slumped forward, his elbows on the deck railing. “So when I see sprinklers, it doesn't give me the warmest of fuzzies.”

“Wow.”

He cocked his head. “What was it you wanted to say to me?”

“It can wait.”

“No, tell me.” Jake straightened up. “Seriously, I'm fine. Just a little trip down the part of memory lane that has a few potholes in it. I'm good.”

Susie sighed, rested her hip against the railing, and stared intently into his eyes. “Do you remember what happened when my family moved into the house next door to yours the summer after third grade?”

“We became best friends.”

“And what happened after we decided we would be friends forever? Do you remember where you took me?”

“No.”

“You took me into the field across the street from our houses and up into that tree fort of yours that should have been condemned—I can't believe our parents let us hang out in that thing, but given the kind of parents we had, it probably shouldn't surprise me.”

Susie leaned her elbows on the railing and gazed out over the lake. “You told me something as we sat on those half-rotted boards that I'll never forget. Maybe because it seemed so secret at the time, or maybe it was because it was pretty mature for a kid to say, but it's always stuck with me.”

“Yeah?” Jake had no idea what she was going to say. “And you think I need to hear it again now.”

“I
know
you need to hear it again now.”

Susie narrowed her eyes in that way that said he'd better listen, and more than listen, take whatever she was about to say to heart.

“Okay.”

“Little ten-year-old Jake Palmer stares at me sitting in that tree house and says, ‘I don't think we're really ourselves until who we are on the inside is the same as who we are on the outside.' ”

“I said that?”

“Yes.” Susie poked him in the chest again. “It's time to start acting like it.”

“I'm trying.”

“Good. Oh, oh!” Susie shook his arms. “I forgot to tell you, I wrote a song for you. You're going to love it. Andrew even helped me with the lyrics.”

“Can't wait.” Jake folded his arms and grinned. Just being with Susie lifted his spirits.

“Yeah, it'll make you cry, but that's good for the soul.”

“No doubt.” He strolled with Susie toward the barbecue. “How's the summer concert series going?”

“The audiences haven't been huge, but it's been sooooo fun. I'm doing the classic get-someone-from-the-audience-to-get-up-and-dance, and for the most part it's been a show highlight.”

“Most part?”

Susie laughed. “So I get this guy up there who's so nervous—”

“Why'd you pick someone who would be nervous?”

“I didn't pick him, my team did. And they claim the guy begged to get up there.”

“Bad?”

“Couldn't dance. At all. I don't mean he was terrible. He literally could not take a step without stumbling or falling over. And you know how I get when I'm nervous for someone.”

“You didn't.”

“Yes! Couldn't stop laughing. Loudly!” Susie groaned. “Felt sooooo bad. But I ended up taking him and his daughters out to dinner afterward, gave them a bunch of CDs, so it worked out in the end.”

“He must have felt like an idiot.” Jake smiled.

“Yeah, Jake, maybe he did.” Susie paused till he looked directly at her. Serious face again. “But at least he had the courage to step into his fear.”

“That wasn't subtle.”

“Time for you to get up onstage and dance again, Jake.”