Take a Chance on Me(7)

He kept his gaze on the road, slowing as he took the truck around a curve carved through the granite, where the shoulder disappeared. His hands slickened and he caught himself holding his breath.

He couldn’t wait to leave. But to do that, he’d have to find a few more places where he could go, hat in hand, begging for hours. Deep Haven seemed determined to keep him from fulfilling his community service, especially lately. Volunteer jobs had fizzled to ten hours a week and some places, like the after-school tutoring program, had turned him away.

Apparently the fact that he had graduated from college and managed two years of law school didn’t matter to the English teachers struggling to teach their sixth graders to read.

No, if the citizens of Deep Haven had their way, he would have been their first public stoning.

He turned south where the road split around Evergreen Lake and took the paved road to the end, pulling in to the gated community of Pine Acres. The electronic gate and pass card could probably be considered overkill, but his father had promoted safety for the vacation homes when he jumped into the world of property development and created the luxury vacation community, and he kept his word. At least to the residents of the community.

As Jensen drove through the gates, he noticed that deer had snacked on the currant bushes by the entrance. He’d have to reshape them, maybe spray. A bulb was out on the automatic entry lights, and he spotted a tree down along one of the wooded drives. He’d come by tomorrow on the four-wheeler and clean it up.

He had to mow, anyway, and finish painting the Millers’ garage—a project his father thought might fill time and create some goodwill. After all, the Millers were one of his father’s largest clients in the Cities with their string of cinemas.

Jensen crawled into the driveway of his father’s massive vacation home and parked the truck outside. As he got out, the stars created a canopy of brilliance, innocent and bright. They felt so close he wanted to reach up and touch one. The wind hushed in the white pine and birch, the poplar and willow that surrounded the property.

Motion sensor lights flickered on as Jensen moved toward the service door, blinding him for a moment. Then he let himself into the darkness of the garage and didn’t bother to turn on the lights, toeing off his shoes and moving from memory up the stairs to the great room. At the top, moonlight streamed through the grand windows that overlooked the lake, waxing the wood floor with light. The ceiling rose two stories, trapping the silences of the grand house, and the place smelled of the walleye he’d cooked for lunch in butter and dill. He dropped his keys onto the granite countertop and opened the double-door stainless fridge, peering inside for something. Anything.

Grabbing a root beer in a tall bottle, he twisted off the cap and padded out to the deck.

The lake rippled in the darkness, fingers of light feathering over the surface. He could barely make out Gibs’s light next door, trickling through the woods and across the sandy beach. He should check on the old man. A canoe lay moored on the sand, evidence of a recent visit by his granddaughter, Claire. How she loved to canoe the length of the lake.

Jensen didn’t mean to stalk, but he loved watching her. And what else did he have to do, really?

Across the lake, almost directly from Pine Acres, the lights of the Evergreen Resort main lodge blazed.

Once upon a time, he and Darek had been the kings of Evergreen Lake.

He set his root beer on the railing and dug out his harmonica.

The sound echoed across the lake, long and twangy, Johnny Cash’s “Cry! Cry! Cry!” Maybe it was a little indulgent, but tonight, he couldn’t help it. “You’ll call for me but I’m gonna tell you, bye, bye, bye . . .”

He listened to the last of the sound lingering as he finished. It was so easy, sometimes, to just close his eyes, lose himself in memories. The heat of the sun on his skin, the taste of trouble in his laughter. Standing on the bow of the canoe, his feet balanced on the edges. Claire and Felicity on the seat in the middle, and at the stern, facing him, similarly balanced, stood Darek.

Jensen had seen that sparking of challenge in Darek’s eyes as he said, “You can’t knock me off.”

“Watch me.” Jensen gave the canoe a playful jerk.

Felicity squealed. The summer had turned her hair a rich, luscious blonde, and with her skimpy bikini, he could barely keep his eyes in his head. She faced him, grinning, and he wondered if she could hear his heart pounding in his chest.

Claire grabbed for her side of the seat, and he caught her gaze on him. She always made him feel a little naughty, even when he wasn’t thinking anything he shouldn’t. Then again, he supposed that’s what a missionary kid was supposed to do. Make you behave.