the road to american lake was smooth and recently paved. a weird standout in the sea of potholes and crumbling infrastructure i had become accustomed to in westchester. i wanted to doze off. pulled to sleep by the silence of a well-insulated car and the gentle proximity of lacey when it was just past midnight. several unsuccessful attempts at rousing her from my lap had concluded in a hoodie burrito melting into my shoulder instead. 

i had to keep jason awake. the car radio hadn’t been sufficient and charlotte wasn’t the most talkative despite being in the passenger seat. we’d left late, partially my fault, having had things to do with the house to get it ready for appraisal and staging. 

“sorry again, making you drive at night.” i murmured, absently petting lacey through my old concert hoodie. 

“it’s fine, at least you actually hold a conversation.” jason said. he shot a glance across the car at his silent copilot. she didn’t grace either of us with a response, continuing to stare out the window with visible distaste. 

“i really appreciate being able to stay up here for a bit. i think i’d go fucking stir crazy if i had to spend the last three months in the house with people who hate me.” 

“how is all that, by the way?” jason asked. 

“it’s…” i trailed off, double checking lacey was asleep. was it a bad idea to answer in detail with charlotte listening in? maybe, probably. “…not great. i still don’t know if martha is going to fight for custody.” 

“as much as it sucks-” jason started. 

“no.” i said flatly. “no. lacey being with her is a lot worse than struggling somewhere else.” jason let the conversation hang for a moment, breathing out and opening his mouth before abruptly shutting it.  

to my surprise it was charlotte who answered. “did anyone bother to ask her?” 

“of course.” i replied. i mimed ruffling lacey’s hair, moving to the on the arm that wasn’t crushed against my side and continuing to give her affection. “the first thing i asked was if she wanted to stay, and she was very enthusiastic about leaving martha.” 

“hmmph.” 

“i hope it works out.” jason added. 

“thanks, me too.” i sighed. a flash of neon orange turned my attention to a reflective road sign warning drivers to limit speed on the abrupt mountain turns. jason didn’t seem to mind the impending danger, taking a corner marked for 35 at almost 50. 

evergreens blurred in the window. dark outlines of wide trunks densely packed together, then suddenly sparse where wildfire had devastated the mountainside. a lot of the area had been clear cut for development, the rest flattened by seasonal damage. some sections were in various stages of conservancy, markers denoting reforestation efforts glowing silver in the car headlights. 

i looked back at lacey, tucking a curl back underneath her pulled-up hoodie. the red streak in her hair was more visible than the rest of the light waves. it split her skull from top to bottom on the left side, halfway from horizontal center towards the front. i’d never asked her about it, why just one streak, but i figured it was some kind of teenage statement.  

notes of cardamom and vanilla drew me to put my chin down on the top of her head, and it felt so much more difficult to keep my eyes open. “is the lake cold?” i asked nobody in particular, trying to think of anything that would prevent me from slipping into a blissful rest. 

“as balls.” charlotte answered, her finger clacking against the window with the rap of sharp nails on glass. 

“true that.” jason added. he smirked in the rearview. “but it rocks when the temp is over a hundred.” 

“fuck man, i haven’t swam without a chaperone in two years.” 

“it’s crazy you didn’t get PTSD from that or something.” jason said, the end of his comment quieting as realization broke and swallowed the smirk. the contents of an old letter from lacey appeared viscerally in my head, and suddenly there was an anxiety brewing that hadn’t been present beforehand. nothing about it bothered me, but i was bothered on her behalf nonetheless. 

“yeah.” i laughed nervously. “i got out okay i guess.” 

“lucky you.” charlotte spoke, flat and unemotional. clearly it bothered her too. 

“i learned to paint, gained an appreciation for reading. all things considered, at least i didn’t let it break me.”  

“mhm.” she continued. the same affectless voice turning the sound into something extraordinarily dull. again, i wondered if speaking freely in front of charlotte was a good idea. if it wasn’t, i had waited a bit too long to make that decision. 

“it fucked her up though.” i said. the car was silent for more than a moment, a handful of minutes that stretched into 10 and then 15 before anyone spoke again. 

“we’re almost here, you might wanna try and wake up lacey.” jason said quietly.  

“good luck, she was breathing through that cart earlier.” charlotte chimed in, biting her lip to suppress a smile. i made a mental note to send keith an angry text. 

lacey didn’t wake after we pulled up through the gravel drive to jason’s family cabin, groaning a bit when i tugged her to the edge of the car seat. even a little taller, a little bit heavier, i could still princess carry her without issue.  

jason lead me to the ensuite at the rear of the cabin. the attachment was on stilts, a steep incline keeping the raised deck and the guest room at the same level as the main building. gravel from the drive crunched underfoot as we made our way to the steps. the rockwork tracked past the deck stairs and down into a dark outline of murky water only a few hundred feet away. 

i carried lacey up the stairs and waited while jason fumbled with an overloaded keyring. he tried a comical amount while i watched, eventually sinking the right key and swinging the door. inside the ensuite it was quaint, almost grandmotherly. wooden furniture and quilt…everything. fluffy embroidery lining shades of green and brown that clashed against stained wood paneling.  

a lone queen bed sat against the far wall, a very antique clock and some pilfered restaurant cupholders atop a wooden nightstand to its left. what might have been the world’s most overstuffed armchair, a recliner i wasn’t sure could recline, took up the rest of the space in the close corner. the head of it only just cleared the bottom of the windowsill, embroider drapes falling across it in bunches. 

“shower won’t get hot for a minute. there’s uh, a bucket. put the cold water in there.” jason said, giving me a wave in the doorway as i laid lacey down on the bed. “we’ll toss it on the plants in the morning.” 

the shower was a tile cube that had obviously been added post-hoc, jutting from the wall in front of the bed. nothing but a curtain and tile transition strip separated it from the rest of the wooden flooring, though a steep grade on the inside ensured that all the water made it into the center drain. 

“no biggie, i think we’re just gonna crash.” 

“nighty night.” jason winked, giving me a sanctimonious eye roll for good measure. the door closed with a soft click and i sat down in the big red chair, confirming it to be a recliner as the footrest suddenly sprung out on me. a bit embarrassed, i nudged it back into place and more gently laid back.  

lacey hadn’t moved, only shuffled a bit to keep her hands underneath her and i realized just how cold the room was. there was no thermostat, but the radiator under the window did have a large green button. it hummed to life with little aplomb and i figured it would be okay to use given that jason hadn’t given an explicit warning, like he had with the shower water. i went back outside, thinking i had forgotten our luggage, only to find it next to the metal table and chairs on the deck. jason was too good to me. 

that only left lace. my head buzzed for a second and the chair had drawn me back into it while i contemplated. it wouldn’t be right to leave her in the clothes she had spent the day in, but undressing her was still a bit outside the purview of our unspoken boundaries. god damn it keith. 

the first few tentative steps back towards the bed took an eternity. the distance my hand traveled to the zipper of her hoodie seemed to be twice as long. in almost the same instant, things were happening much too fast.  

her hoodie came away, discarded on the floor. a white tee with bright interlocking shapes quickly joined it. i got her jeans down to the ankle and she kicked a bit, sliding them the rest of the way off and turning over to grin at me. 

“cainnnn, what’re you doing?” she mumbled, singsong. i turned my head, trying to rip my eyes away from the chest spilling out of her violet bra. 

“if you can talk then put your own PJ’s on.” i said, tossing her pastel socks onto the rest of the pile. lacey shut her mouth and rolled back over. two snaps saw the top unclasped, the matching bottoms swapped with another monocolor pair after i’d pulled one of my big shirts over her head.  

“i should pass out more often.” lacey slurred through a grin, kicking her feet a little more. 

“don’t make it a habit.” 

“buzzkill.” she pouted, crawling underneath the sheets and patting what was now determined to be my side of the bed. 

i might’ve been a buzzkill, and maybe my concern about her smoking was the vestige of dad talking. seeing her so loose and easygoing, especially being mostly naked, didn’t sit quite right. we had so many unspoken rules. spoke ones too, but those were loosely defined. i’d put my foot down about timing and implications, trying to balance her wants against my sense of pacing. there was no barometer, nothing for me to check against to know if we were moving too fast except my gut. 

frayed nerves from the car ride prickled front and center while i changed. a cursory glance towards the bed found lacey’s eyes devouring me in the dark. it felt great to be out of my slacks though, just me and my boxers against the world. lacey seemed to agree, snuggling up to me as soon as i laid down with her. 

“you’re gonna moderate, right?” i asked, nuzzling her. it felt good to breathe in the calming mix of botanicals i associated with her haircare. 

“sure thing, officer.” 

“i’m serious. i don’t care about the weed, but getting wasted needs to be infrequent.” i said, more serious. 

“should i call you sir too?” lacey giggled, eyes half open. she lazily trailed a finger down my chest. brushing contact that gave me discomforted pangs. 

“whatever, lace. we’ll talk tomorrow.” 

“oh, come on.” she griped. “at least try something.” 

“i’m not taking advantage of you.” i grumbled, annoyed she would even consider the possibility. “especially not with jason and charlotte four inches away.” 

“cain.” lacey spoke, suddenly tense. her expression had twisted into angry frustration. she grabbed my hand and tugged, yanking at the wrist when i tried to take it back. “just cop a feel, come onnnn.” 

“lacey, no.” i repeated, using a little bit of strength to wrap her up against my chest. she whined, something between a muffled scream and a pouting sigh, pushing air against my forearms. “the answer hasn’t changed, and this isn’t the right place, or the right time.” 

“it’s never gonna change.” 

“not if you keep forcing it.” i murmured. “it’s fucking hard for me, okay? i love you, you’re beautiful, but this is-” 

“it’s not different!” lacey whined again. she flipped over with a huff, allowing the pull of my arms to keep her swaddled while presenting a physical cold shoulder.  

“i want it to mean something, to be…to be right, and…” i stumbled over words, pausing and starting and then sighing in exasperation as none of them seemed to line up the way i wanted. 

“see? you don’t even know what you want, cain. you’re just scared.” she said, huffing a breath. her cheeks inflated in a pout stubborn enough for me to see from the side. 

“i have every fucking right to be, i just got you back.” 

“and yet all you’ve done is try to parent me.” lacey snapped under her breath. “if you haven’t noticed our parents are fucking dead-” she choked, the last word caught in the back of her throat like it had flown in and gotten stuck. her jaw shut with a snap. 

“fuck.” i sighed, lowering my voice to a whisper. “you’re right, i’ve been a hardass.” i brushed some of the hair away from her face, fingers lingering against the warmth of her skin. my hands shook, even with elbows snug against hers. it was hard not to telegraph how much i wanted to cry. 

“fuck you.” she pouted. 

“you want me to cop a feel that bad?” i asked. 

“for the last two fucking years.” 

“okay.” i said. there was a slight hesitation before my arm dropped from the side of her head to snake around underneath the oversized shirt she had on. “happy?” 

“you’re not even-” 

“happy?” i echoed, kneading the right side of her chest. i’d barely noticed how much more there was underneath all the baggy clothing lacey had been wearing recently. it exceeded a handful, enough that i could work my fingers in and feel the rest overflow. she put her hand over mine through the shirt and i stopped on instinct. 

“not if you’re gonna phone it in.” 

“does it feel like i’m phoning it in?” i said, letting go of the ultra-plush curvature. i guided her by the wrist and placed it behind one thigh. she gave me a confused side glance, but rolled with it, allowing her palm to rest against the swelling in my boxers. the half-look widened. 

“okay.” she breathed. “keep going.” her fingers toyed with the outline in delicate, playful strokes. i’d never been this ready to burst in my life. she breathed out softly, slender up and down pressure eliciting a full body shudder that made me push my face into her neck, drinking the scent of vanilla and lace. in the back of my mind, a nostalgic tug of war broke out between what i wanted and what felt right. 

two years; two fucking years as she had said. it wasn’t like i didn’t want this, not at all like i hadn’t dreamed about it. i could barely keep it together enough to have these thoughts in the first place. here we were, warm, close, together at last, surely just a feel or two was warranted, right? i hesitantly brought my arm back around, trusting her with the prodding work she seemed equipped to carry out, and dove under the shirt once again. 

the renewed connection was met with sweet whispering noises from lacey as i explored her breasts in earnest. in the moments before, i had been angry, frustrated, overcome by sadness. i’d almost thought that what was in my hands had been a way for my brain to stay grounded. now, it was undeniable. i hadn’t imagined the size or the shape, she had certainly grown. 

it was hard not to be forlorn about that. i definitely shouldn’t have winced in disappointment realizing i hadn’t been there for any of it. birthdays, class promotions, achievements. mundane stuff, like taking her to the doctor. the most we’d been able to share was sentiment through a microphone or on a page. i felt that loss anyway, a part of me resenting the selfishness of those thoughts with how magical it was to be able to finally indulge in the chiffon of her bare skin. 

it took immeasurable restraint to only touch her chest. my resolve chipped away with every gasp and squeak from lacey. she encouraged me with her voice; the occasional ‘right there’ or ‘yes’ making my vision swim. this was okay, we could go just a bit further. i could cede another few inches, another foot, a yard even, to my desire. 

i pampered every luxuriant inch of my love in an almost total collapse of my willpower. hands and lips going to work. pleasing her, refamiliarizing, caressing, showering affection over a body that yearned desperately to reciprocate against mine.  

it wasn’t long before i pulled her top off, barely waiting for her to help, just so we could press against each other with further abandon. lacey respected my wishes to keep it at that, even if it was done so with a pout, and somewhere in the early morning we succumbed to exhaustion, wrapped around one another like old times. 

breakfast the next day was uneventful, though it was an excellent surprise to be awakened by grease and carbs in the air. jason had risen early to assemble stacks of hotcakes and plates full of bacon, egg, and sausage. all ready to go by the time lacey and i stumbled into the main cabin. 

it wasn’t much bigger than our guest suite, laid out better and not nearly as cluttered by furniture. a similarly sized bedroom lay off to the right of the entry. charlotte peeked out of it in her glasses, clearly still half asleep. lacey waved and smiled, getting a round of drowsy blinking in response. the rest of the short hallway opened to a combined living room that transformed into a very basic kitchen, as if an entire home had been crunched inside a studio apartment. couch against the far wall, a solid looking oval table in the center, and the cooking space opposite the entry. its laminate countertop dominated by modern appliances and a double wide farmhouse sink. 

jason hadn’t done more than throw khaki shorts on under an unzipped coat. the lengths of his grown-out hair had been done up nicely in a top knot, layered stragglers clipped back. we were varyingly bedraggled, from charlotte’s messy elegance to my disheveled frump. lacey fell somewhere in between in her too big tee and my sweatpants. between jason, who was actually ready for the day, and the girls, who had baggy shirts and shorts on, i felt severely underdressed in just my joggers. 

“thank you, god.” charlotte said from down the hall. she seated herself along with us, grabbing a hearty stack of bacon and dropping sausage on top. 

“i can’t take that title, i think it’s claimed.” jason called back, dropping pans into the left side of the sink. 

i had to raise my voice over the sound of the faucet running to retort. “you could start a cult?” charlotte rolled her eyes and i gave her a smirk. jason didn’t get a chance to see either, busy with dishes, pans, and garbage as he finished up his mise en place. 

“i’d join a cult for these.” lacey said, face half full of pancake. 

“you’re lucky my kitchen doesn’t have a ‘no shirt no service’ rule.” jason razzed, sitting down to join us with his own plate piled high. 

“well, it got stolen.” 

“yeah, tell it to the judge.” he said, mid chew.  

“guilty, penalty is death.” charlotte spoke, chomping on the corner of a lip to stifle the burgeoning grin. she twirled a speared piece of protein on the end of her fork and pretended to bang it like a gavel. 

“your honor, can i put in a good word?” lacey giggled. 

“she did the gavel and everything.” jason laughed, tapping his chest with the top of a fist as air and breakfast competed for space in his windpipe. “i think he’s done for.” 

i mulled over my phony sentence, taking bites of griddle top deliciousness. jason certainly knew how to cook, i had to hand him that. he always had, charlotte being just as proficient, something lacey and i shared jealousy about. it wasn’t as if i couldn’t cook, i made a mean grilled cheese, but pancakes like these? fluffy, buttery, cooked through to a half inch perfection without being dry? no way that was in my wheelhouse. 

“itinerary.” jason spoke, wiping his face off with the corner of a folded paper towel. “it’s gonna creep into the high nineties today if anyone wants to swim.” 

“i’ll pass.” lacey said. she shifted uncomfortably and speared at leftover corners of pancake on her plate. i gave her a look, tilting my head inquisitively, but backed off without pushing when charlotte spoke up. 

“we can go on a hike or something.” 

“okay sure.” she replied quickly, pushing her plate forward and letting the fork clatter. 

“i’m down to swim, maybe lake first, then beers?” i pitched to jason. 

“sounds good.” he answered. “i was thinking late lunch, or early dinner if people are fine with just snacking.” 

“early dinner.” charlotte voted. 

“seconded.” lacey added. 

“thirded.” i said. 

“perfect, back here at 4:30 then?” jason asked the table. a series of head nods gave consensus and we finished our meal without much urgency, save for lacey who idled awkwardly. when things had wrapped up, i offered to help with cleanup and was rebuked profusely by both jason and charlotte. lacey and i knew it was pointless to protest, and we headed back to the ensuite to figure out clothes. 

she hadn’t been conversational since swimming had been brought up, almost sulking in an exaggerated version of her normal quietness. i’d given her a kiss on the way in, squeezed her hand affectionately, and though the gestures had been returned, none of them had the same life i was used to feeling. 

“you’re really not going to swim?” i asked. 

“i just don’t feel like it.” 

“lace, you love the water.” 

“i did…when i was thirteen.” she said, pausing to pull her shirt over her head. 

“okay, what changed?” i asked, sneaking a peek over my shoulder. lacey was halfway into a pair of jeans, an eclectic choice i opened my mouth to comment on, when i noticed the bright red streaks crossing the inside of each thigh. 

“cain! what the fuck, don’t look!” she blustered, tossing the recently discarded overnight shirt in my direction. my head snapped back fast enough i worried about whiplash, panic surging in the periphery. 

i knew what i’d seen through the afternoon light high above the lake. it was plain as day, but it felt unreal. deep down, somehow, i had known that our time apart and the toll it had taken on lacey had been physicalized. she’d hinted about pain and pressure in her letters to me. i’d had agonizing conversations with maria on the phone about how to approach it, what to say, what not to do, but lacey had never given me any confirmation that something was wrong. i’d let myself think that she would trust me with something like that. in this moment, all of those thoughts evaporated before i could grab hold to anything sane. 

“shit. shit, sorry, i…it’s not like i knew.” i blustered, regretting the choice of words immediately. 

“and you wouldn’t have.” lacey sniffed. 

“i didn’t mean it like that.” i said. “i just mean, like…you were gonna hide your legs from me forever? what if i’d done something last night?” 

“well…yeah, that’s why i got high. idiot.” 

“are you…okay?” i ventured sheepishly, feeling like a dumbass for my phrasing. “i mean, like, is it ongoing?” 

“can we not do this now?” lacey huffed, wiping her eyes and buttoning the top of her pants. it was the closest i’d seen to the old lace, jeans and a shoulder drop long sleeve. not exactly hiking attire, but she looked great. the top had a single red stripe running through the arms that created a sort of cross imagery with the red in her curls. it only hit me then that she’d done up her hair. 

“okay, shelved. you do know you’re tromping through the woods, right? did you even bring real shoes?” 

“my high tops.” she replied. 

“double lace my boots, please, and wear extra socks so you don’t blister.” 

“whatever.” 

“hey.” i said, hardening my voice at the dismissal. “we’re gonna talk about this later tonight.” 

“what the fuck ever.” she sighed, clearly past the point of listening. 

“look, no more hardass cain, okay? we talk, we catch up, we figure out how we’re gonna support each other, and then it’s softy lovestruck cain and beautiful gorgeous lace, alright?” i soothed, walking over to scratch the nape of her neck. she offered me a pout; a look that said ‘i can’t stay mad at you’, and we kissed. we lingered, drawing the contact out more than it needed to be and i didn’t care. i just let the tension flow out as the embrace drew itself apart. 

lacey finished wrapping my boots, standing to take a few test steps. when she was confident with the fit i got a hug and another drawn out kiss. her eyes told me i hadn’t upset her too badly. i still worried, trying to push down the unresolved mess attacking my anxious thinking. 

“don’t drown.” lacey mumbled, leaving me to arrange my swimwear. the door clacked shut behind her. 

there was so much that had happened in the last 24 hours that i wasn’t sure if there were enough minutes in the day, liquid ounces in the lake, to even begin addressing all of it. i settled for what had become my go to process when things became daunting. it’ll work out, you love each other, i affirmed to myself. it would. 

i grabbed the largest towel i could find. rough, gray and definitely meant to take down to the lake on account of the faded sharpie L-A-K-E near one of the corners. lacey’s cutting was probably going to come up in my talk with jason. how i’d manage while still respecting her privacy was another issue. the only thing i knew for certain was that a nice cold soak and a few beers, maybe more than a few, would open all those stupidly jammed tight doors in my very overloaded brain.