The Year I Almost Drowned (29 page)

baseball hat and a pair of shorts and nothing else. I tried not to gawk, but it was

hard

not

to.

I finally quit ogling and decided to go downstairs to eat breakfast. The scent of

cinnamon and cooked apples filled the entire bottom floor. My pace increased,

and I jumped off the last step in haste to see if Nana was in fact baking or if I was

having

a

hallucination.

There she was, standing in front of the stove, with Sidney next to her, cooking.

She was cooking! Cinnamon, nutmeg, apples, caramelized sugar–a welcome

bouquet.

“Hey, Finn,” Sidney said, glancing at me and then watching Nana as she stirred

rapidly. “Lilly is teaching me how to make an apple pie.”

I was ecstatic. She was actually baking again. “It smells great in here,” I said,

taking another whiff of the heavenly aroma. I reached for a cup off of the mug

rack and filled it with warm, freshly brewed coffee. After I added cream and sugar,

I stepped over near them. Nana continued to stir with precision and fierce

movement.

“Let’s get the crust out of the oven,” she instructed Sidney. Sidney bent down and

opened the oven door. She pulled out the golden crust and placed it on top of the

stove. “We’re going to pour these apples here on top of this crust and let it cook

for a while.” She held the pot by its handle and poured it onto the pie crust. “In a

little while, we’ll add the crumbles to put on top of it.” Sidney acknowledged her

with a quick nod and picked the pie up, placing it back into the oven.

“I wish you weren’t baking this for the movie night tonight.” Sidney sulked. “I really

want

a

slice.”

Nana let out a laugh and said, “There’ll be plenty of time for you to try a slice of

my

pies.

I

may

just

make

another

one.”

I widened my eyes at that statement and hoped that it was true because I really

missed her pies. I missed the warm, familiar feel that they gave me–the smell,

the taste, the way that they gave me comfort. Her pies were like that for me.

“Please do, Lilly, because I don’t know how long I can keep my hands from

digging

into

it,”

Sidney

said,

while

licking

her

lips.

Nana snickered. “We can make a peach pie. We’ll have to go pick some off the

tree

outside,

though.”

“I’m so there.” Sidney marched out of the kitchen and toward the front door. “Just

point me in the direction of this said peach tree!” she hollered.

Nana grinned, snorting at Sidney’s humor. It was good to see her happy, to see

her laughing so much, and to see her baking again. A little part of her old self had

resurfaced. “Finn, you show her where the tree is and make sure she only picks

ripe peaches. I’ll clean up this mess.” She frowned at the remnants of flour on the

kitchen counter and dirty dishes that hadn’t made their way to the dish washer

yet.

I slid into my flip flops, which were by the front door, and opened it to walk outside.

My hair was a disaster and my t-shirt and pajama shorts were wrinkled from being

slept in. I caught up to Sidney, who was haphazardly walking all over the front

yard

searching

for

the

peach

tree.

“It’s

behind

the

house!”

I

yelled.

We wandered to the back yard on a mission to pick some peaches. Grass

clippings stuck to my flip flops. As I meandered through the yard, the grass crept

in

between

my

toes.

“It’s

over

here.”

I

pointed.

“Cool,” she said and ran up to it. She took a couple off the tree and held them in

her

hands.

“Think

this

is

enough?”

She

squinted.

“No.

She’ll

need

more

than

that.”

“We

should’ve

brought

a

bag

or

something.”

“We’ll use my shirt,” I said and stretched my long t-shirt in front of me. “Dump

those

in.”

Sidney carefully placed one after the other in the make-shift basket I had created.

She snagged more off the tree and dropped them on top of my stretched shirt.

“Think

that’s

all

you

can

hold,

Finn.”

The heaviness of the peaches weighed me down. I precariously tiptoed through

my grandparents’ yard. Sidney stopped in her tracks and purred, “Hello hotness.”

She was gawking at Jesse, who was clipping one of my grandparents’ hedges.

“Finn, seriously, how did you not jump his bones when you dated?”

I ignored her and focused on keeping the peaches in my shirt. I increased my

pace, which caused them all to spill out of my shirt and onto the grass. “Shoot!” I

shouted.

Sidney snorted. “Nice one, Finn. I can really tell you’re mad.”

We both started to pick the peaches up off of the ground. I bent over, seeing

Jesse’s

shadow

behind

me.

I

stood

up

and

spun

around.

“Looking

for

these?”

he

asked,

holding

a

few

peaches.

“Yeah,”

I

answered.

“Nana’s

making

a

peach

pie.”

I stretched out my shirt; he placed each peach carefully on top, one at a time.

Sidney came over to us and laid the rest of the peaches on top of my shirt.

“Thanks,”

I

said

to

him.

He wiped the sweat off of his forehead. Beads slowly trickled down his chest.

“Walk slow,” he teased. He walked back to the hedge and picked up the clippers

and

started

cutting

away

again.

“I could’ve walked up here naked and he still wouldn’t have noticed. He just burnt

holes through you with those pretty blue eyes of his,” Sidney said as we reached

the

front

door.

“He. Broke. Up. With. Me.” Sidney would not let this go, and it was really starting

to irk me. Jesse was just a nice guy. He was friendly to everyone. Maybe he was

being so helpful because my grandfather passed away? Maybe he thought he

was helping my Nana that way? Maybe he just felt sorry for me?

But what if she was right? What if he did still have feelings for me? I couldn’t read

him, and I didn’t know his reasons. All I knew was that we were broken up, and

neither of us had spoken to each other for almost half a year until that fateful day

he

showed

up

to

tell

me

about

my

grandfather.

***

Sidney rode in my car with me to downtown Graceville. We decided to go to

Graceville’s Movie in the Park Night. It was the first time I’d gone out in weeks.

My life was nothing but the diner. Getting out of the house for one night was

exactly

what

I

craved

and

needed.

Sidney held Nana’s pie in her lap, while I drove with one hand on the steering

wheel, going up and down the mountainous roads. Driving on the narrow, winding

roads had become so effortless that I could do it in the dark with my eyes closed.

The days of having both of my hands on the steering wheel and holding on for

my dear life were long gone. Sidney messed with the radio stations, trying to find

something

decent

to

listen

to.

“The

stations

here

suck,”

she

said.

“We

are

out

in

the

country.

What’d

you

expect?”

“Um something better than this.” She kept switching stations and finally decided

to

give

up

on

her

fruitless

task.

The windows were rolled all the way down; cooler air blew through the car. It

wasn’t a typical summer’s night. Mother Nature had been kind and had given us

the

perfect

weather

for

watching

a

movie

outside.

We arrived at the diner and parked the car in the parking lot. I looked across the

street at the park. Several people had already arrived and were staking their claim

for

the

perfect

viewing

spot

to

see

the

movie.

The park didn’t consist of much: a grassy lawn filled with wildflowers, a few park

benches and a weathered gazebo that needed a fresh coat of paint, and the best

view in town. Mountain upon mountain could be seen off in the distance. On a

clear day, you could almost see the leaves on each tree on top of every mountain.

On a cloudy day, the blue haze from the Blue Ridge Mountains hovered above,

creating a beautiful foggy mist. Sometimes, after I got off of work, I liked to sit in

the

park

and

enjoy

the

scenery.

“We should’ve charged a parking fee,” Sidney said. “You could be rich right now,

Finn,

you

know

what

I

mean?”

“The people of Graceville would never pay to park their cars. They’d revolt.”

She

shrugged.

We got out of the car lugging our stuff, and we headed to the park. Sidney held

the pie. I carried a blanket. “There’s the dessert table.” I gestured.

Sidney set the pie down on the dessert table. It was next to a row of many

desserts. “Is that one of Lilly’s pies?” an elderly woman asked. I recognized her

face, but couldn’t remember her name. That’s how it was in Graceville–familiar

faces who seemed to know me but I couldn’t remember them.

“Yes,”

I

answered.

“It’ll be gone lickity split.” She smiled, five of her front teeth were missing.

“Everyone

loves

her

pies.”

I gave her an appreciative smile. Sidney and I searched for the perfect place to

sprawl

our

blanket

out

on

the

lawn.

“This is good.” She indicated by pointing to an area in the front and near the

decent-sized

movie

screen.

I unfolded the blanket and laid it on the ground. She plopped down on it almost

instantly. I looked over to my left and then to my right and saw cups of Coke and

bags of popcorn in people’s hands. “We need Coke and popcorn,” I said. “I’ll be

right

back.”

I

ambled

toward

the

popcorn

cart.

“One large bag and two Cokes, please,” I said to the person bagging the popcorn.

“Hey,

Finn,”

Everett

said,

coming

from

behind

me.

“Hey,

Everett.

I

didn’t

see

you

there.”

“That popcorn may put you in cardiac arrest. They don’t ration the butter.”

“Good. That means I’ll like it.” I grinned. “Are you on duty?” I noticed his light gray

police

uniform.

“Yeah. I have to make sure things don’t get too chaotic,” he said. “I don’t mind. I

get paid twenty bucks an hour for this, which is more than I make on the force.”

The popcorn vendor handed me my bag of popcorn and the two Cokes. Everett

held the Cokes for me, and I clutched the popcorn bag. I took a handful of popcorn

and put some of it into my mouth and chewed. I offered some to Everett.

“No

thanks,”

he

said.

“Can’t

eat

butter

on

duty?”

I

kidded.

“More like, I don’t want to be one of those cops who can’t chase criminals.” He

patted

his

firm

stomach.

“You’re

missing

out,”

I

said

and

then

things

were

silent.

He

finally

said,

“The

diner

seems

to

be

doing

well.”

“Yeah. I’m trying. It’s a lot harder than I thought it’d be, but we’re managing.” I put

a few

pieces

of

popcorn

kernels

in

my

mouth and

coughed.

“You

okay?”

he

asked

with

a

concerned

expression.

“It got stuck,” I said in between coughs. He handed me a Coke, and I took several

sips.

“Better?”

“Yeah.

Thanks.”

I

smiled

at

him

appreciatively.

“So, are you going to the dance next weekend?” he asked.