At the Water's Edge Read Online Free PDF

your major in college?”
    “College?” Kay bangs her beer bottle onto the deck. “This is where I went to college, learned everything I ever needed to know.” That sweeping gesture of her arm again—my eyes once again drawn to her hand. “I’d better get going. Lots of check-outs in the morning.”
    “I’m sorry—”
    “You should really learn to stop apologizing for every little thing you say, Ella. Trust me, the world will survive without you being constantly sorry for everything.”
    Taken aback, I have no reply—just a familiar crushing feeling in my gut. Stomach dropping, chest tightening.
    “Good night.” Kay touches me lightly on the arm before taking the two stairs down off the deck and disappearing into the darkness.

CHAPTER FIVE

    The next day when I emerge from the cabin around noon—head fuzzy, stomach upset—the sun hangs high in the sky, bathing West Waters in the light I remember from my youth. But I’m no longer ten years old. I’m forty and a mess.
    When I walk back inside to check the fridge and find it near empty, I consider my options. For some reason—always the same one—I can’t bear the thought of bright supermarket lights, so I decide to take a load of laundry to the shop at reception and pick up some unhealthy snacks while I’m there. I also want to apologize to Kay… until I remember her parting words from last night. But still, I want to express at least a little bit of regret over my baffling ignorance when it comes to her.
    Unwashed—I’ll have a swim and a shower later—I trudge down the path to reception, having forgotten that most of the weekenders are checking out today, leaving their keys with Kay, and scheduling cleanings and such. I’m still a few yards away when the unbearable sound of too much high-pitched laughter makes me stop in my tracks. But it’s just a family of five making their way from the shack to the parking lot. Two small girls are skipping from one tile to the other—the exact same thing my sister and I used to do when leaving West Waters.
    In the moment during which I’m trying to decide whether to turn back or go ahead, Kay appears in the doorway of the shop. Instantly, a wave of comfort washes over me, her consistent presence already forming a safety net I will have no choice but to reject.
    “Morning,” she shouts, a sly grin on her lips.
    I re-sling my laundry bag over my shoulder and head in her direction.
    “You don’t have to wash that.” Her eyes spot the sweater she loaned me last night at the top of my overflowing laundry bag. “Have you eaten?”
    I shake my head, suddenly self-conscious because of not washing. “I’ll grab some—”
    “Breakfast bars? Nuh-uh. I’m not having it. Put your laundry in and meet me back here. I’ll cook you some eggs Brody-style.”
    “But—” I try to protest but I already know resistance is futile.
    Today, she’s wearing olive green shorts and a faded black t-shirt. Her skin gleams in the midday sunlight. Hands on her hips, she tilts her head and it’s enough to make me shut up.
      “Go on.” She moves out of the entrance to let me through and I saunter to the back of the shop where I figure out how the washer works and set it in motion.
    When I arrive back at reception, she’s busy with Uncle Pete, handing him his newspapers. He turns to the door and offers me a sweet smile that, instantly, warms me to the core.
    Kay guides me to the lodge-like bungalow behind reception. “Please have a seat out here and give me a shout when someone approaches the shop. They should all have gone, but it’s not uncommon on the day after the bonfire for folks to drop by again because they’ve forgotten something. Coffee?”
    “Yes, please.” I sit and let my gaze glide over the lake. From where I’m sitting on the deck, I can see all the way to the other side, even spotting the landing of my family’s cabin.
    “Here you go.” She plants a steaming mug in front of me. “This shouldn’t