“What about the Burton girl?” My mom asks.

“She's in her thirties. I think you can stop calling her the Burton girl,” I tease.

“I put a Band-Aid on her knee twenty years ago. She'll always be the Burton girl to me,” my mom argues.

“Isn't she a lesbian now?” My younger sister, Abby asks.

My mom squints. “She's a lesbian? Are you sure?”

Abby nods. “Yep, married too. I think she and her wife adopted a baby or are trying to.”

I sit quietly, watching my mom’s shock of learning the girl she thought would save me and give her grandbabies one day is a lesbian. I’ll gladly let the focus shift to someone else other than this old and tired conversation. But my mother’s next words prove there’s no such luck. Just as I’m moving to stand from the couch to sneak out, she halts me.

“Don’t even think about it. I’m not finished talking to you, young man.”

I groan and throw my head back against the couch cushion. “I’m fine, Mom,” I promise her. “You're not,” she argues. “You're lonely, living up here all by yourself.”

“There's a difference between being lonely and liking to be alone.”

Abby smiles sympathetically at me. I'm not like the rest of my family. Most of the time they're okay to leave me be. Other times, like now, they try to push me to be someone I'm not. I'll never be the life of the party like Gideon, or be comfortable talking to people I've just met like Noah and Abby, or confident enough to order anyone around like Eli.

“Have Noah and Finley set a date yet?” Abby asks.

We both know they haven't, she only asked to take the heat off of me.

“I don't think they have,” Mom replies, and then worriedly adds, “they'd tell us if they did, wouldn’t they?”

Abby reaches out to rest her hand on Mom’s forearm. “I'm sure they would.”

This isn't good enough for her. She may have recovered from the blood clot that landed her in the hospital, but she still needs her rest and can’t get worked up over things.

She shakes off Abby’s hand to get up. “Maybe I should call them to be sure.”

“Mom, don't call them,” Abby argues, shaking her head.

Our mom is determined and has already crossed the room to where her phone sits on my kitchen island.

“Service is so spotty up here,” she complains, lifting her phone higher as if that would improve the signal.

“You can call them on our drive back to Woodlake,” Abby tells her.

“Shhh. I got a bar,” Mom says, ignoring her.

Abby rolls her eyes and looks back at me. “Noah is going to kick my ass.”

“He's used to it. And, from what I've heard, now that they're engaged, Eli isn't running his mouth off anymore.”

“He's got enough to worry about as it is.” She looks over at our mom who is currently repeating, “Hello?” And, “Can you hear me?” over and over into her cell phone.

Abby leans in closer and lowers her voice. “Mom doesn't know, so don't say anything but, Brooke filed for divorce.”

Shit. That sucks for Eli and their kids, not that I can blame her. Eli is a stubborn pain in the ass. I had thought they were working things out since they seemed to be together at Easter. But, I also haven't seen them since.

Now that I think about it, I should have known something was up. He hasn't said anything about using the cabin now that school is out and normally, they all come up around this time of year. The kids sleep in the guest rooms upstairs and Eli and Brooke take the cabin for themselves.

The kids boat, fish, or swim in the lake while Eli and Brooke relax on the beach. It works for everyone since I like having them around.

“When is he going to tell Mom?” I ask.

She shrugs.

For Eli to tell mom he'd have to be willing to admit he failed at something. Fat chance in hell of that happening.

“They couldn't hear me,” our mom grumbles coming back to join us. “I'll have to call them on the drive home.”

Abby gives me a look and I subtly shake my head, not wanting to keep up the conversation.

Just then, the front door opens and Paige walks in, all of our eyes immediately fall on her.

She pauses mid step. “I didn't realize you had company.”

Abby has a habit of parking down by the beach so it's not a shock Paige didn't see her car.

I stand and gesture to my mom and sister. “This is my mom Daisy, and my sister Abby.” I turn back to them. “This is Millie’s daughter Paige. She’s helping out while Millie’s leg heals.”

Abby jumps up. “It's nice to meet you. Here, let me help you with those groceries.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble. Please don't get up.”

It was pointless for her to say that considering Abby was already halfway to her.

“Don't be silly,” my mom adds, standing herself. “We’d love to help.”

That's a not so subtle hint for me to help as well. With the four of us carrying bags, all the groceries are inside in no time.

“Want to walk out to the dock so we’ll be out of Paige’s way?” I suggest.

My mom shakes her head and starts digging into one of the bags.

“Asher, do you eat this junk all the time?” My mom doesn't give me time to answer, shaking her head at some canned meat. “I haven't seen one healthy thing yet.”

Paige bites her lip, clearly trying not to laugh.

“Mom,” I warn.

She holds up a frozen meal and points at the ingredients. “All chemicals and preservatives. You shouldn't be eating stuff like this.”

Abby braces her elbows on the island and looks like she'd like to make popcorn.

“It's easy and quick to make. Plus, I like it,” I say, knowing that it’s pointless to try to defend myself now that Mom is involved.

“You need a woman to take care of you,” she replies and then looks at Paige again.

Moments ago she was on the verge of laughing, now with my mom’s attention on her she looks ready to flee.

“Mom.”

Abby chooses this time to jump in and save me for the third time this afternoon. “How’s your mom’s leg doing?”

I shoot her a grateful look.

“She's getting around okay on her crutches. There are a couple level walking paths around her complex that she uses to get out of the house. I've also been taking her to places around town. She’s used to being active so not being able to drive is making her stir crazy.”

“Your mom is such a sweetheart. I was so upset when Asher told me what happened. Is she up for visitors? Maybe Abby and I can drop by today,” Daisy says.

“She'd love it,” she replies with a nod and then looks at me. “Can I use your phone to let her know?”

“Of course you can,” my mom butts in to answer for me.

While Paige makes her call, we put away the rest of my groceries. Luckily, my mom doesn't share any more opinions on my eating habits.

Paige hangs up the phone and turns to us. “She was so happy you asked. She'd love to see you both.”

Then she looks at the now clear island and adds, “I forgot your mail in the car. I'll be right back.”

The moment the front door closes behind her, Abby focuses her gaze on me. “She's very pretty.”

My mom jumps in. “Is she single?”

I groan.

“What?” my mom asks defensively, “it’s a reasonable question.”

“Paige is not my type,” I reply, unable to hide the annoyance in my tone.

There's a cough behind me before Paige quietly sets my mail on the island.

I shift, turning to look at her, regretting my words and the annoyance at which I said them with. I'm struck by the coolness of her expression. Her face seems formed from stone, only something, something that looks a whole lot like pain quickly flashes in her eyes before she can mask that as well.

Shit.

“I'm going to start cleaning upstairs.” She lifts her hand to wave to my mom and Abby. “It was nice meeting you.”

Before either of them can reply, she turns on her heel and leaves.

“Wait,” Abby says, following her, but Paige is already halfway up the stairs.

Abby returns, her eyes on me. “Real smooth.”

My eyes are still glued to the spot I last saw Paige.

“Why don't you like her?” Abby asks after a moment of loaded silence.

“Can we talk about something else?”

Abby crosses her arms over her chest. “She seemed nice. I'm only asking because I don't get why you wouldn't like her.”

“She’s pretty too,” Mom interjects.

Great, two against one.

“Even if I did like her, which I don't,” I clarify. “It'd be pointless to start anything considering how different we are.”

“They say opposites attract,” Abby sing songs.

“Speaking of, are you dating anyone?” I ask.

Abby blanches as our mother turns her attention to her. “Don't go turning this on me.”

“How did your date with that Robert fella go?” Mom asks.

Abby glares at me. “It went.”

Our mom pouts. “That doesn't sound promising.”

“Pretty much,” Abby agrees. “I've decided to get a cat. He or she can be your new grandkitty.”

Our mom presses a hand to her chest. “A grandkitty?”

Abby nods. “Yep. If you want I'll even use a family name for traditions’ sake. Maybe Imogen after Nana or Josiah after dad’s uncle.”

“You will not name a cat after a family member,” our mom exclaims.

“Why not?” Abby argues.

I have to hand it to her, she got mom’s mind off of Robert big time.

They’re still arguing as I walk them down towards the beach to Abby’s car. They pause long enough to hug and kiss me goodbye. Standing there, I watch as they pull away. Then, my gaze moves to the second floor of my house.

I need to apologize.

There’s a reason I prefer being out here all by myself. I'm not good with people. I either say the wrong thing, case in point, or nothing at all. I pull in a breath and head back inside.

She's pissed.

Or at least I'm guessing she is based on the amount of noise she's making as she cleans. She sees me the moment I step into the second spare bedroom.

Brandishing the duster like a sword, she points it at me. “You're not my type either. In fact, just so you know, I like guys who shave, wear nice suits, eat food that doesn't come in cans, and know how to use a laundry hamper.”

I push the duster to the side, suddenly wanting to strangle her instead of apologize to her. “I came up here to say sorry, okay?”

Her nose crinkles as her brows furrow. “Is that your idea of an apology?”

“Look, I don't care if you accept it or not. What I said was rude so I'm sorry. You can keep on not liking me, and for the record, I do know how to use a hamper.”

“Evidence suggests otherwise Bucko.”

“Bucko?” I blurt.

She rolls her eyes. “It just came out.”

I've gone from feeling guilty, to frustrated, and now find myself wanting to laugh, all in the span of a couple minutes.

“You said what you needed to say so if it's cool with you, I have had a long day and would like to finish up here so I can go crash.”

Toe to toe, I glare down at her. “What? Did watching TV all morning wear you out?” I scoff, annoyed that she'd make this big a deal about grocery shopping and light cleaning.

I doubt she's known a hard day's work in her life.

Her eyes shift from annoyed to glacial, the blue of them looking more like ice than anything else.

“You know what they say about people who assume things?” She asks.

“What?” I reply.

She turns her back to me. “That they should mind their own fucking business.”

I take that as the dismissal she intended it to be and leave her to finish her work. I don't want to be the reason she's here one moment longer than she needs to be.

I'm frustrated and more annoyed than I've ever been. Mind my own business? Whether she likes it or not I care about Millie and don't want to see her using her.

Needing to cool off, I'm grateful for the old pair of cargo shorts I pulled on this morning. My steps lead me to my dock, and I pull my shirt off when I reach the end of it. It's a moment's work to step out of my shoes and tug off my socks before I dive in.

The water is cold even though it's June. The temperature of the lake stays cool year-round, only getting slightly warmer in late summer. The brisk chill is exactly what I need to cool the blood simmering in my veins.

I surface, shaking water from my hair and reach up to wipe it from my face. Then, I swim. With each stroke across my lake, my mind clears. There is nothing except the command for my arms to pull me forward and my legs to kick.

My body adjusts to the coolness, not only accepting it but relishing the way it eases any lingering frustrations away. This, like building something, is one of the few things I can do to turn off my thoughts and mentally check out for a while.

When I'm not in my workshop, I swim if it's warm enough, and fish when it isn't.

I cross the lake, straight across its middle to the beach on the far side. Pausing only to catch my breath, I turn to swim back to the dock. Halfway, I lift my head to make sure I’m heading on a straight path.

The sight of Paige standing at the end of my dock halts my movements. What the hell does she want now?

It's not like I can stay out here and tread water until she leaves. Knowing my luck, she'd wait until my legs gave out and then bill me for the time.

It dawns on me then that I didn’t reimburse her for the groceries or pay her for her time before I stormed out of the house.

Shit.

With a groan I continue toward her.

It's not until I reach the ladder on the side of the dock that she steps back from the edge.

“Do you have the receipt for the groceries?” I ask.

Her eyes stay focused on the lake. “It's on the island.”

“Are you finished inside?”

My question pulls her attention to my face. “I wouldn't be out here if I wasn't.”

Her tone of voice has me wanting to jump back into the lake.