At the Water's Edge Read Online Free Page B

one of Kay’s favorite watering holes, but also my father’s preferred spot for relaxation.
    “It’s fine,” I say, instead, but the discomfort has settled. Not because of the brief, almost silly interaction with Drew, but because of the same old question that keeps rearing its head: was it really a good idea to come here?
    Kay bumps her shoulder into mine. “They’ll all be gone tomorrow. We’ll have the place to ourselves all week.”
    I giggle and pull Kay’s fleece tightly around my body, resisting the urge to lean into her.
    “Kay.” A vaguely familiar looking woman dressed in a linen pants suit walks up to us. Her grey hair is done up in a neat, tight bun. “That man in your shop says you’ve run out of diet coke, surely that can’t be the case.”
    “I’m on it, Mrs. Innis. Come with me.” After Kay has addressed her by name, I realize the woman taught me in third grade.
    I stare into the fire while emptying the rest of the beer Kay gave me. She’s fully engaged in chit-chat with Mrs. Innis and slowly, a circle of mostly elderly people forms around her, obstructing my view. I stand too far away to hear what she’s saying and, growing tired of the shrieking children playing tag and nearly bumping into me a dozen times, I retreat back to the privacy of my cabin.
    * * *
    I’ve built my own fire in the pit between the porch and the lake and, because of the cracking sparks and light whoosh of the flames, I don’t hear her footsteps as she approaches.
    “Thought you might want this back.” Kay stands next to me, holding my blazer.
    I’m still wrapped in her sweater, drinking more beer. “Thanks.” I look up at her. “Want one?” I present my half-empty bottle.
    She nods and sits on the edge of the porch.
    While I duck inside to stow away my jacket and fetch Kay a beer, I believe I know why she has come. Or perhaps I’ve had one beer too many.
    “Don’t like crowds, huh?” Kay asks when I sit next to her, our feet dangling in the air, our thighs nearly touching.
    “Depends.” I let my gaze rest on the flickering orange glow in front of us. “Can I ask you something?”
    A loud, gurgling chuckle erupts from Kay’s mouth. “By all means, Little Ella. By all means.”
    I turn my head to look at her. Her lips are drawn into a thin smirk, eyes brimming in the light of the fire.
    “Are you gay?”
    A short silence before she replies. “No.” She tilts her head a bit more. “Which doesn’t mean I’ve never fallen in love with a woman.”
    “Oh.” I feel my face flush. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
    “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”
    The skin of my cheeks feels as though the flames have started licking it with broad, sweltering strokes across my face.
    “So bloody ignorant,” I murmur. “I should know better.”
    “I’m not that thin-skinned, and, living here, I’m used to worse.”
    “But still.” I sip from my beer, hoping it will cool the flush on my cheeks.
    “I’m truly not fussed with what people think about me. It’s my life and I do what I do.” Lightly, she jabs her elbow into my biceps. “You’re not like that. I can tell.”
    I huff out some air. “Let’s just say I’m a work in progress.” My stomach tightens. I drink more beer.
    “We all are.”
    “You look pretty much complete to me.” My words come out as a whisper, disappearing instantly into the soft roar of the flames.
    I don’t expect the loud cackle. When I look at Kay she’s shaking her head, an amused glint in her eyes.
    “We all have our thing, Ella. All have our very own cross to bear.”
    I wish I was the kind of person who could sit on the edge of that porch with Kay until the morning, continuing this line of conversation, but already I feel myself clamming up—my tongue and thoughts growing paralyzed.
    Kay drains the rest of her beer with quick, quiet gulps. “Permission to go inside and get us another?”
    “Yes.” I nod almost feverishly, before my anxious