The Lake of Dreams - Kim Edwards [133]
When I reached The Lake of Dreams I parked downtown, on the main street, grabbed my bag, and walked to the pier where Blake’s boat was moored. I hadn’t spoken to him since we’d argued over the boxes of old toys in the living room, and I hadn’t talked to him yet about Avery’s anger over my lapse. I couldn’t blame him for being upset, and the image of him standing on the dock, watching as Keegan and I had driven out into the dusky lake, had lingered. I was full of the letters, too, bursting to talk about Rose and her extraordinary story, which was also ours.
Blake was working on the Fearful Symmetry, painting stain onto the wooden trim. It gleamed a clear, glossy brown. He rested the paintbrush across the can and stood up when he saw me coming, wiping his hands on a stained white rag he pulled from his pocket. I stepped over the railing, onto the deck.
“Hey,” I said. “That’s looking good.”
His hair was golden red in the sun. He nodded. “I think so, too.”
“You know, I’m sorry, Blake. Mom said Avery is still mad.”
“Yeah, well, that would be something of an understatement. Is she overreacting a little? Maybe. But she’s really upset, and I can see her point. She wanted to be the one to say something, you know? She wanted to choose the time.”
“I didn’t think clearly,” I said, understanding in that moment how deeply Blake’s allegiances had shifted. He had his own family now. “Would it help if I called her?”
Blake shrugged. “Maybe. She’s really mad at me. She didn’t know I’d told you, Lucy. She didn’t know that anyone else knew, and when she found out—well, you can imagine how she felt.”
My bag with all the letters was hanging from my arm, and though I’d meant to share everything I’d learned with Blake, it suddenly seemed trivial compared to what was unfolding between us.
“I feel terrible. What can I do?”
He looked past me, over the water, and sighed. “Nothing, at this point. I mean, it would be good if you talked to Avery.”
“I will.”
“Okay.” He managed a small smile. “Just don’t expect her to name the baby after you.”
“Okay on that, too.”
We were quiet for a moment, the boat moving slightly on the gentle waves.
“Yoshi’s coming tomorrow,” I said.
“Hey, I’m glad to hear that. You guys are good?”
“I hope so,” I said.
He nodded, no doubt remembering Keegan and me traveling out on the lake the night before. “I was beginning to wonder.”
“Keegan and I were never meant to be.”
“You okay with that?”
“I’m okay. Sad a little. I mean, Keegan is great in a lot of ways. I just got disoriented for a while, so far away from home. So close to all the lost past.”
Blake smiled. “Yeah, I get that. Well, look—we’re doing a July Fourth party on Tuesday,” he said, gesturing to the half-stained railing. “Here on the boat. That’s what I’m doing, getting ready. I’m inviting everyone, Art, Joey and Zoe, Austen, Mom, a few friends, some people from the restaurant, too. Mom promised not to tell anyone else about the baby, and we’re going to formally announce it then. The baby and the wedding, by the way. I’m not telling when we’re getting married.” He smiled. “You’ll have to wait like everyone else. You’re invited, by the way.”
“Well, thank you. And congratulations.” I hugged him, the bag catching between us as he put his arm briefly around my shoulders.
Then I left, walking down the dock and through the village to the Impala, driving up the lake road until the house came into view. The sun was setting by then, and light flashed off the cupola windows in spectacular shades