She followed Julia down the path, shouting to Aunt Fae and Uncle Stuart that they’d be back by dinnertime. Julia’s long curls trailed behind her; her windbreaker, tied to her waist, flapped in the wind.
They paid their entrance fee at the pool, and Hannah broke from Julia almost immediately. She didn’t care what her sister thought, if she saw them or not; she just ran right for the concession window.
There he was, his red hair curled against his forehead, his eyes crinkling as he laughed at something a girl at the window said. Hannah felt a brief stab of jealousy, but then he met her gaze, and his whole face changed. She could see him go from shock to happiness. Delight. He closed his eyes, smiled, like she was a dream standing before him.
He put a finger to his lips. She shook her head playfully. She was tired of being quiet. Tired of being told to sit still, just wait, be patient. Tired of being too much for her mother, too loud for her stepfather, too wild for Julia, too, too, too. She wanted to burst wide open at the seams—to be allowed to simply let herself spill out would be the greatest gift.
He held up his index finger and then cocked his head to the back of the building, splaying all five fingers. Meet me in five.
It felt like an hour before he burst out of the back door and crushed her against the concrete. His mouth on her mouth, stealing her breath, making her gasp.
“I missed you,” he growled into her neck.
“I’m sure you had other girls to keep you company,” Hannah demurred, then hated that her first words to him were jealous, petty.
“Not like you.” He rested his forehead against hers and kissed her nose. “I don’t drive three hours for anyone.”
“This is going to be the best summer,” Hannah breathed, her legs shaking and her hands shaking and her heart pounding so wildly she was sure he could feel it. She jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist and he twirled her around and kissed her hair and his hands gripped her waist and they both talked at the same time and it was everything Hannah had hoped their reunion would be.
Later, she tried to talk to him about telling the others. He was adamant. “No one will understand. One more year, okay? I’ll be nineteen; you’ll be sixteen. That’s fine. Maybe by the end of summer. Please?” He traced the line of her jaw with his fingertip, sending a thousand volts of electricity right down the middle of her body. So they stayed silent.
They met up with Julia and Dana and Yolanda and Reggie, with his movie-star good looks, tan like a lifeguard, skin smooth and glistening. He smiled at her, and she felt the small hitch in her breathing. Knew he did, too, gave her a sly smile like a cat with a bird trapped in its paws. She looked away.
“I didn’t know the girls from Brackenhill were such little hotties.” He guffawed at his own cleverness, and Dana and Yolanda and Julia giggled behind their palms.
“Shut up, man.” Wyatt punched him in the stomach, playful, but he laughed too. The whole scene made Hannah’s insides flip, her legs clench. Wyatt stayed on the other side of the group, his eyes following her every move. He winked at her every few minutes. And when no one was looking, his fingertips tickled the back of her neck, once cupped her ass.
She was his. Even if no one knew it. He was her sun, shining bright, blinding, in the center of her universe.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Now
The small stone church in Rockwell held around thirty people by the time Pastor Jim was ready to start his eulogy for Aunt Fae. Hannah wondered who everyone was as she slid into place next to Alice, who greeted Hannah and Huck with a single stern nod. Huck made a face at Hannah, his chin pulled back into his chest and his mouth stretching out: Eesh, what’s gotten into her? Hannah covered her mouth with a palm and hoped people thought she was muffling a sob. Huck elbowed her, a teasing admonishment.
The urn was blue, swirled in whites and greens around a yellow eye, reminding her of a hurricane. It felt fitting with Hannah’s childhood, everything she remembered or loved about Aunt Fae. She had been the calm in the storm of Hannah’s life; the one stabilizing force