The Summer House

“So you live alone?”

Cupboards bumped open and closed as we stocked the kitchen through the storm. It had been half an hour since we began and the battling screech of wind and rumbles of thunder didn’t sound like they were going to settle their war anytime soon.

“Yeah,” I said, pulling out a box of bran flakes from one of the bags. “I came down from Los Angeles. It’s my parents’ lake house; I’m just borrowing it for the summer.”

“So it was you who laughed when I dropped the garbage,” Brendon exposed casually, casting me a withering look.

I froze and felt my cheeks heat up. “About that…”

“It’s fine, really,” he laughed, shaking his head at me. His eyes were twinkling as he smiled at my discomfort, his previous expression wholly discarded. “I knew it was you when I asked before.”

My face felt like it was going to explode, and I really hoped it would. Before I could say anything else he proceeded with the questions he had been bombarding me with since we started unpacking the groceries. “So why’d you move here? It’s practically the middle of nowhere.”

The heat in my face started to diminish, but I could hardly look at him. My shoulders rolled as I pulled out a jar of carrot-flavored baby food. I could feel my eyebrow furrow involuntarily for a moment before I set it down on the counter and fished for something else. “I’m on a writers block right now. I’m a writer…or kind of one. I thought the change of scenery would help.”

“You’re lucky,” Brendon mused, bunching up an empty plastic bag and throwing it in a storage bin. He seemed to take no notice to my reaction to the things he’d bought. “You can just up and leave when you want to. Live your life the way you want; I wish I could do that.”

I paused and glanced over at him, watching him peel back the plastic wrapped around an unmarked cylinder. “But don’t you live alone too?”

I pulled out a rather large box from the bag and immediately wished I hadn’t. The box contained adult diapers. I eyed Brendon discreetly, deciding he didn’t seem like he needed help holding it in, and concluded that he must have a gargantuan baby stashed somewhere in the lake house. I did a once over of him one more time before putting the box back in its bag and setting it on the floor.

“Well I’m old enough to live alone,” Brendon answered cautiously, unloading more baby food into one of the cupboards. I picked up the ones I had fished out earlier and rounded the counter to put them in their proper place. He turned around and bumped into me, trapping me between himself and the counter.

“Sorry!” he exclaimed quickly, stepping aside and rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t see you there.” I waved it off and motioned for him to go on.

He kept his tone as he continued. “I know I don’t really look it, but I’m twenty-three. It’s just that I’ve got some commitments I’m bound to right now, so I don’t have the place to myself.”

“Wife and kids?” I assumed, looking around for any sign of them. So far, the house had been quiet except for the two of us. If he hadn’t revealed that he wasn’t alone in the house, I would have assumed he was; he was the only body I ever saw around here.

Brendon laughed a startlingly melodic howl. “Wife? Kids? No, no, nothing like that.” I caught his wide eyes examining me from behind his frames, brows bent low. “I’m here with my Grandma and Georgia.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah, I bought this place for my Grandma to help her ease into things. They’re both on the third floor right now, napping, I think,” he tacked on thoughtfully.

“Is your Grandma sick or something?”

“Not from anything in particular – just time.”

It was an unspoken understanding that there would be inevitable tragedy ahead, but I felt obligated to keep the conversation light. ”So…you’re from somewhere in state then, huh?”

Brendon shook his head and pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “We’re from Vegas. Quite the move for a lake house, I know. But I figured it would be nice to grant my Grandma one of her wishes before she…y’know.” He paused and seemed a little upset at the acknowledgement, running his hand through his hair and tugging at a handful at the front. “She always wanted to live in one of these places so I bought her this one in April since it was the most affordable one I could find. I don’t have a lot of money but this is a pretty decent place, I think.”

Another wave of silence blanketed us as we stacked jars upon jars of baby food in the cupboard. I felt his sigh on my forehead.

“Do you miss it there?” I asked.

He smiled tightly at me. “Well, yeah. It’s been, like, four months since we’ve moved here. I miss my friends, really, but we rarely saw each other anyway when I was there because of conflicting work schedules and all. Still, we had some time to get together every week so, I dunno, yeah, I guess I miss them.”

My head bobbed along at appropriate intervals as I moved on to filling the fridge with fresh vegetables and drinks. Brendon went on at his own accord, probably forgetting my presence. He seemed to recite the information in a way that sounded as if he was trying hard to remember them – to picture their faces. “Ryan’s in publishing and Spencer’s a photographer, but he usually photographs things like bands for CD inserts and webpages, and writers for book jackets and stuff.”

There was an abrupt silence that caused my head to snap up from behind the fridge. I ran over what he said in my head, wondering if I missed a cue to add in my input.

After a minute of watching him stare at a packet of tofu and chew over his bottom lip, his smooth tenor voice broke the odd break. “Jon is kind of in between jobs but right now he’s interning at one of those corporation-y type places, and Audrey runs this kind of hippie, spiritual store that sells candles and incense – that kind of thing.”

I arched a brow at him but nodded anyway, bending down to fill the bottom half of the fridge. I waited for him to continue but, when he didn’t, I pushed the conversation along. “That’s a lot of people to miss.”

He gave a soft, noncommittal hum.

“What about you?” I pressed, taking care not to crush a tomato behind a bottle of hot sauce.

“Me?”

“Yeah. I mean, you talk about other people a lot but you haven’t said much about yourself.”

“Oh.” Brendon seemed a little dismayed at my notice. “I’m nothing special -- I’m at the bottom of the barrel in our friendship back in Vegas,” he chuckled softly, bunching up the last plastic bag and tossing it in the storage bin. He leaned his hip against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched me pack the last of the groceries in the fridge. “I’m a music teacher. High school. I took a year off though for this so right now I’m not really anything.”

“Teaching isn’t the bottom of the barrel,” I frowned. “To be honest – and no offense – that incense place sounds more sketchy to me.”

He chuckled and shook his head but didn’t comment.

“Well, it must take a lot of strength to be able to give up your life at a drop of a dime for your Grandma,” I mused absently, pushing a carton of milk to the back of the fridge before nudging the door shut. “But I guess it’s a little easier since you have Georgia.”

So quiet were his next words that I would have wondered if he actually said anything if it weren’t for the upsetting twist of his face. “I really miss Vegas, actually. It’s hard.”

I straightened up and threw him a sympathetic smile as I passed him on my way to the storage bin.

“Y’know, you’ve been quiet this whole time about yourself too,” Brendon chirped suddenly, tilting his head at me. I figured he just realized that he had filled an hour long gap with just his voice. I also hoped it would have stayed that way.

“Sorry,” I offered.

“Don’t apologize; tell me about yourself.”

“There’s not much to tell,” I admitted, leaning on the opposite side of the counter. “I think I covered the basics already.”

“Basics. Right. But don’t you miss anyone back in L.A.?”

“Ooo, you’re a pushy one,” I teased. He laughed and nodded acceptingly. “Honestly, I just miss my dog. I’m not really attached to anyone there - it’s hard to be; everyone is usually just out there to climb the social ladder to fame. It’s hard to have faith in anyone to stick around,” I shrugged. I glanced out the ceiling-to-floor window and wasn’t sure whether I should have been disappointed or not that the weather had deteriorated into calm showers.

“Storm’s let up,” Brendon sighed, startling me with his unexpected proximity. I turned around and sheepishly lifted a corner of my mouth, stepping back so that I wouldn’t have to crane my neck up to look at him.

“I probably should go – my goose will be cooked if I go back to L.A. empty handed.” Which isn’t looking good at this point.

“Alright.”

I made my way back into the foyer and grabbed my raincoat off the hook on the wall. It surprised me when I saw Brendon doing the same with his still-wet lilac hoodie, but I didn’t question it when I found him beaming at me.

The walk back around the lake was quiet, the two of us getting pelted with large droplets of water. I fought the urge to tell him to stay inside since his hoodie wasn’t waterproof but knew he wasn’t the type of person to listen anyway. I pushed my key into the back door and turned to Brendon to wave him off. “Thanks for letting me stay over through the storm. And for walking with me over here.”

“You’re welcome.” He looked back towards his lake house for a moment before grinning back at me. “Guess I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you.”

“Good luck with your writing, Madeline.”

With that, he made his way back to his side of the lake, turning to wave at me one last time at the halfway point.

I’ll need it, I thought bitterly, imagining what my publishers would do to me when I showed up empty-handed.