VIII.
“What was that back there? Between you and Julian?” Toby asked me once we were outside. The twins ran ahead in front of us. We walked down the hill toward the wooded part of the property. The light from the Olivers’ porch illuminated the swath of grass in front of us, but I knew the closer we got to the woods, the darker it was going to get.
I grimaced a little. I was surprised Toby had even noticed. “Forget about it.”
“What if I don’t want to forget about it?” His tone was light.
“It’s dumb.”
“I doubt that,” he said.
“No. It really is.”
“Try me?”
“I’d rather not.”
“Come on. Try me.”
“You’re rather persistent. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“Don’t switch the question around on me. I know that trick.”
I sighed.
“Come on. What’s going on?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Fine. So Julian was just on my case earlier today about not letting him in. He accused me of, I don’t know, putting up some kind of emotional wall.”
“Do you?”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you put up emotional walls?”
“Holy hell, dude,” I said. “Are you like the Diane Sawyer of Oak Falls?”
In the dim light, I saw Toby’s cheeks redden. There was a long pause, and I worried for a moment that I had offended him. “Naw,” Toby finally said. “Not really. I’m actually not usually one for questions.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
He grinned. “I’m full of surprises. You’ll see.”
I smiled back weakly and followed him down a narrow dirt path that cut sharply down a hill. By now, the Oliver porch light was just a twinkle behind us. Up above, the moon glowed—a perfect shining sliver. The air smelled like summer—botanical, lush, and thick.
“So aren’t you going to ask me?” he said as we climbed farther and farther down the hill.
“Ask you what?”
“Why I’m so interested in asking you questions if it’s out of my nature to do so?”
I swatted at a mosquito that I felt nibble on my left wrist. “I’m still not sure I believe you that it’s out of your nature.”
He laughed. “Trust me. It is.”
When I didn’t say anything, he let out a whistle. “Dang.”
“What?”
“You’re a tough cookie, you know? Your pops and your friend might be right about you.”
It was my turn to blush. “You don’t know me well enough to say that. Though you probably have already judged me.” I gestured farther up the path where the twins were charging through the forest. “You know they already have.”
Toby walked closer to me and nudged his shoulder against mine. “Aw. You misjudge them.”
“They seem to hate me.”
Toby shook his head, another wide grin spreading across his lips. “You don’t get it.”
“Enlighten me?”
“They’re nervous around you,” he explained. “Actually, I think the word I’m looking for is ‘intimidated.’”
“Bullshit.”
Toby braced. “Whoa. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”
I looked at him. “You have to be kidding me.”
“What?” He gave me a sheepish shrug. “I just think there are more interesting words to use.”
“Really? Like what?”
“Like pamplemousse,” he said. “It means ‘grapefruit’ in French. Isn’t that fantastic?”
“Pamplemousse,” I repeated, botching the pronunciation. “That’s really what you say when you get pissed off?”
Another sheepish shrug. “Sure. Why not?”
“Um, I don’t know,” I said. “Because it doesn’t make any sense.”
“Sure it does. It’s a fun word. So whenever I say it, I instantly feel better. Which makes deploying it in upsetting situations a win-win.”
“Whatever you say,” I said, nearly tripping over the exposed root of a tree.
Toby reached out to steady me. “We’re getting close. Don’t worry.”
“I wasn’t worried.”
“Okay.” And then added, repeating me, “Whatever you say.”
I smiled despite myself.
“How do you know my cousins so well?” I asked.
“Oh,” Toby said. “So now you get to ask questions?”
“Well,” I said, “I think I have the right to be curious about my family that up until about forty-eight hours ago, I had no idea existed.”
“No idea?” Toby said. “Really?”
“No idea,” I confirmed. I gave him the brief SparkNotes version of The Shoebox discovery, and Julian showing up on my doorstep, and what Julian had told me so far about my mother and him.
“But it’s not adding up,” I said. “What he’s told me so far makes it seem like Mom’s the one who broke things off.”
“And that surprises you?” Toby asked.
“Hell yes, it surprises me.”
Toby braced again.
“You have to be freaking kidding. You consider ‘hell’ a swear word?”
He shrugged. “Pamplemousse,” he said with a smile. “But why does it surprise you that much?”
“Um,” I said. “Because Julian’s a rock star. And my mom is my mom.”
“So?”
“So?” I echoed back to him. “So it just seems obvious to me that Julian ditched her when he got famous.”
Toby gave me a look.
“What?”
“I dunno if you should be so sure about that. Even rock stars can get dumped, you know?”
I smiled a little. “And you’re an authority on that?”
“Maybe,” he said, turning his attention away from me and toward the sound of splashing in the distance. Toby grabbed for my hand and steered me down the last part of the path. The overgrown grass had given way to brush and tall trees. It was getting harder and harder to see, but Toby seemed to know the path by heart.
When we finally reached the lip of the lake, Toby announced, “Here we are.” And then he unbuttoned his shirt and peeled off his pants as if that was the most natural thing in the world to do. His pale, freckled skin stood out against the darkness as he ran into the water. I watched as the bony knobs of his spine disappeared beneath the dark surface of the lake.
The twins yelped with excitement and one of them splashed Toby right in the face. He shook his head, spitting out water and laughing.
“Come on in!” he called out. “The water is great!”
I studied the lake. It was small and oddly shaped. The left side was much wider and it appeared to taper off on the right side into a tiny stream. The water had a musky scent. Not rotten, or even bad, but potent all the same.
“Come on!” Toby repeated. He was bobbing up and down.
“I don’t have a swimsuit.”
“She’s too prissy for this,” Carter said. “Just let her be.”
I sat down at the edge of the lake and dipped my toe in. “That’s not fair. I just don’t have a swimsuit.”
“You big-city girls are too good for swimming?” Brady teased as he treaded water.
I dipped my toe farther into the water. “I’m not from the big city.”
“Why doesn’t Julian ever come home?” Carter asked, and his voice for once didn’t sound mean or teasing. It sounded like he really wanted to know. And I could swear I even sensed some hurt in there too. Like he took it as a personal offense that his uncle didn’t make it home for every Thanksgiving and Christmas.
“I don’t know,” I stammered, and stared at the dark water in front of me.
“And we’re really supposed to believe that?” Carter said, and some of the mean had snaked its way back into his voice. “He’s your dad.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I guess technically. But I hardly know the guy.”
“Us either,” Brady said.
“So that’s something we have in common.” I gave them a weak smile, which neither of them returned, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw Toby watching me.
Toby splashed his arms in the water and repeated, “Come on in.”
“I would, but I don’t have a swimsuit.”
“So?” Carter said. “Neither do we. Just swim in your underwear.”
“But …”
“Don’t be weird,” Brady said. “We’re family.”
A fuzzy feeling bubbled in my stomach. “Family, huh?”
“Yeah.” Carter affirmed his brother’s statement. “Family.”
Toby splashed his arms again. “Hey, I’m not family. But I promise not to look.” He swam in a circle, turning his back to me.
“Don’t be a perv, Toby,” Carter groaned, and Brady laughed.
I took a deep breath and then quickly slipped my T-shirt up over my head. I unbuttoned my jeans and stepped out of them. I ran into the water and landed with a splash.
“That landing proves you’re family,” Carter said to me.
I gave him a fake salute. “Glad to have proved myself.”
“Don’t get too high on yourself yet,” he warned. “I said it proved you’re family. I still haven’t decided if I like you.”
Brady laughed and splashed his brother.
“So you guys used to come here a lot with Tom?”
All three of them nodded.
“He always wanted to fish out here,” Carter said with a laugh. “But we never caught any fish.”
“But those afternoons were the best,” Brady filled in. “Nana would pack us sandwiches and we’d sit out here for hours with Grandpa. Swimming and joking around.” A look passed over Brady’s face. “Remember when Toby pretended to be a fish that one day?”
They all doubled over laughing.
“When Gramps wasn’t looking,” Carter explained to me, “Toby would dive under and tug at his bait.”
I was getting the sense that Toby pretty frequently made a fool of himself to entertain the twins, but he didn’t seem that eager to go over every one of his efforts. “It was funnier when we were younger,” he said, and something about his voice made me think he was blushing again.
“Let’s play chicken!” Brady said.
Carter pretended to groan. “Gramps hated chicken.”
“Exactly,” Brady said. “So it’s the perfect way to honor him.”
“By doing something that would definitely piss him off?” Carter said.
“What could be more perfect?” Toby chimed in. “The old man was always pissed.”
“That he was,” Brady agreed.
“In the best sort of way,” Carter said, and I could hear the emotion in his voice.
“So what do you say, newbie?” Brady asked me. “You and Toby versus Car and me?”
I looked to Toby and he gave me a reassuring smile. “Yeah,” I said. “I’m in.”