Summer's Last Breath

Part 10

My dad was up waiting for me when I got home. No surprise there. After I gave him a quick rundown of what had happened and assured him I was okay, I went straight up to my room. I ended up taking a shower, and after I slipped on a tank top and boxer shorts, I went to my window to shut the blinds behind the curtain. 


My eyes caught on a shadow on the dock. Someone was sitting on the edge. My tiredness fled at the sight of the strong, muscled back. I dropped the curtain and silently padded down the stairs, checking to make sure my dad was in bed. His bedroom door was shut, the light turned off.


I turned off the security system then slowly slid the back door open. The security lights clicked on when I walked around the apron of the pool. I took the stone path that led to the dock, my bare feet hitting each one. The stones were smooth and still warm from the afternoon sun. When I was ten, not long after my mom moved out, my dad and I spent an entire Saturday laying these stones. And still that night, I'd cried in my bed, because no matter how many distractions my dad found for us, I missed my mom. I missed our family. I'd tried to be quiet, but my dad had heard me anyway. He'd come into my room and sat down on my bed. He was that kind of dad who wasn't afraid to hug and hold on tight. He reassured me that my mom leaving and their marriage ending wasn't my fault, saying sometimes, bad stuff happened and you might never know the reason why. 


"Jamie, what are you doing here?" The dock gave a slight shake when I stepped on it.


"I wanted to make sure you got home okay." Jamie turned his head and followed my progress until I was standing over him. 


"You could have texted me. Or called." I sat beside him and set my hands on either side of my thighs, dangling my legs over the dock's edge. 


"I don't have a cell phone to text and this is better than a call. I wanted to see you."

 
Way better than calling. My whole night had just taken a turn for the better even though technically it was morning. "And you were hoping I'd look out my window?"


"Yeah. Not a very good plan, but it worked. Here you are." 


Here I was. Here we were together. 
"How's Noah?"


"Good as new," he said. The pool of light from the single lamp didn't quite reach us. Jamie's eyes were dark with uncertainty in the shadow of his face. "Physically at least. I worry about him, though. Since my dad died, I don't know." Jamie's eyes scanned over the bay, dark as the sky. "He just doesn't seem to care about anything. It's all my mom and I can do to keep him in school."


"Well, it hasn't been that long. I think he needs more time." Mr. Jacobs had died a few years ago. I hadn't gone to the funeral, but my dad had. It wasn't long after that when Noah and I became friends. His dad was the one thing he never talked about. 


"When I went after him earlier, he hadn't even gotten in the water. He was sitting on the beach, staring at the Gulf. I had to make him get in, like physically force him. It's like he's trying to make things as hard for himself as he can."


"He's lucky he has you." I wanted to take his hand and lay my head on his shoulder and tell him he was doing a good job and that I knew firsthand how much Noah looked up to him. Instead my fingers curled around the wood, and I watched the ripples my foot created in the water. 


Sitting next to Jamie, my head reached to the top of his shoulder. He lifted his hand and picked up a piece of my hair, studying it as if he'd never seen hair before. It was still wet from my shower and the smell of my shampoo bloomed under his fingers. He leaned in close, his breath warm on my shoulder and inhaled. 


"You smell good," he said.


"I took a shower." My mouth quirked.


"It's not that. You smell good." He dropped the strand of hair, and it fell down my back.