“Tubed?” I asked, throwing my towel onto one of the chairs and turning to watch him hop into the boat. He joined me where I stood behind the driver’s seat.
“I have sat on a WaveRunner one time.”
My mouth dropped open. “You mean twice? Because you sat on one a couple weeks ago when you found our abandoned one in the cove.”
“That was the one time I was referring to.”
I took him by the shoulders and looked him in the eyes. With all the sincerity I could muster, I said, “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah yeah.”
“No, seriously. Your life has been so sad up until this point. What kind of friend have I been the last few months to not ask you these questions? To not have fixed this sooner!”
Alana added a six-pack of Diet Coke to the built-in ice chest under the bench seat along the back. “Kate is very passionate about the lake and everything that happens on it, in case you haven’t learned by now. She actually suggested the entire podcast be dedicated to the lake at the beginning of the year.”
Frank powered the boat on. “You did? I would’ve voted for that.”
Alana hugged Frank from behind. “Then there would’ve been two whole votes.”
“You wouldn’t have voted for that?” Frank asked.
“No way,” Alana said. “And since we’re the only three lake kids in the class, you both would’ve been out of luck. Good thing she submitted advice.”
“Because we all know how passionate I am about that,” I said.
“I need some advice,” Alana said.
I rolled my eyes. “Oh good. Just what I wanted to give out today.”
“How do we make today not awkward when all the people on this boat were either on the giving or receiving end of being loved or hated in the last several weeks?”
“No comment,” I said. “I’m off the clock.”
Frank pointed to the dock we still hadn’t pulled away from. “Max! Liza!” he called. “Do you want to join us?”
Max wasn’t big on boating like I was, but who could resist the pull of a really nice boat? Not my brother.
“My advice to your question,” Frank said to Alana, “is to invite people who weren’t involved in the hate or love fest.”
Max and Liza boarded the boat and Frank steered us away from the dock. I pulled the baseball cap I wore down lower on my head. I loved postseason Saturdays when it felt like we had the lake entirely to ourselves. Like it was ours for the taking.
Liza plopped down on the bench seat. “Hey, Alana. After this, maybe you can make us some of your famous chicken.”
“My competition-winning chicken?” Alana winked at Diego and he let out a grumble.
“Where did you learn to make that anyway?” he asked.
“My mom, who learned it from her mom.”
I wrapped my arms around Diego’s waist and whispered, “Maybe she can teach you.”
“Are you trying to say I have experts in my own backyard that I can learn from before becoming a world traveler?” he asked teasingly.
“What? I didn’t say that at all. I’m off the clock, remember?” I smirked and opened the middle section of the windshield to admit me into the bow of the boat. I sat on one of the forward-facing seats.
Diego joined me, taking the seat across the small aisle. “You look like you’re in your happy place.”
“You have no idea.”
“I think this can be my new happy place, too,” he said.
I was definitely happy. But I was learning that my happiness wasn’t necessarily tied to one particular place or event, either. With Diego, I had the feeling I could be happy anywhere.
We passed the five-mile-per-hour buoy, and I heard Frank say, “Hold on!”
The boat picked up speed, and the air flowed over my face. I laughed, and Diego reached across the aisle for my hand. Now the air whipped against our hands and arms, seeping through the gaps between our fingers. Diego smiled over at me. I thought about what he had written on his locker door, how I hadn’t responded, when I knew in my heart how I felt.
“My love,” I said.