“We’re thinking of adding a new section to make it suitable for more boats, and we could sure use an extra pair of hands, even if they’re as delicate as yours,” he said, poking me playfully in the side.
I swatted his hand away but couldn’t hide my smile. “Yeah, that’d be great. Oh,” I said, thinking of my chores. “I’d still have to get my work done at home. Maybe I could do that first thing, then come to the dock after. What time would you need me there?”
“Noon. George and I start early, but we take a break around then. It’d give you more than enough time to finish your chores.”
“That sounds fine. I'll still need to get Mama’s okay, but it shouldn’t be a problem. Tell George I’ll do it.”
“You're a lifesaver, Sara.” Jack’s whole demeanor seemed to lighten after that, the promise of additional assistance on the dock clearly serving to alleviate some of his stress.
I laughed, brushing off the compliment with the back of my hand. “I'm no such thing. Besides, I’m glad to help, and it’ll give me something to do in the afternoons. Sitting up there in that house all day can be maddening.”
“I know what you mean,” he said as he checked his line. “If I wasn’t working for George, I’d go stir-crazy.”
As the afternoon wore on, we pulled dozens of fish from the creek, our laughter ringing through the woods as each fish squirmed and flipped on the end of the poles. My hands became a mess of scales and mud, but I didn’t mind. I was too immersed in the simple joy of the moment, and the thrill of the new adventure waiting for me on the dock. Now, all I had to do was sell the idea to Mother.
5
It tookthree days and a lot of begging, but Mother finally relented.
“All right, Sara Anne,” she said one evening as she brushed a loose curl from my face. “If you promise not to let this dock business interfere with your chores, then you can help Jack and George.”
I squealed in delight, throwing my arms around her in a grateful hug. “Oh, thank you! You don’t know how much this means to me.”
“I only hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”
“I do, Mother. I’m up for it, really. I’m a hard worker, and I don’t mind getting my hands dirty.”
She pulled back and looked at me. “That’s not what I meant, sweet girl.”
I looked into her worried eyes, not fully understanding the depth of her concern. I knew she had reservations about me spending so much time with Jack, but I was too excited to worry about that. “Mama, Jack’s a good guy. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.”
“I know you believe that, but hearts can be fragile. Especially at your age. Just be careful, that’s all I’m saying.”
My mother had been through her fair share of heartbreaks, and she knew what they could do to a person, changing them from hopeful and bright, to guarded and wary. Still, I didn’t see any reason to worry. Life was exciting, and I wanted to live every minute of it.
The following week, I started work on the dock. Jack and George taught me the ropes, everything from fixing loose boards to cleaning boats. The work was grueling, the summer sun turning my skin the color of molasses, but I loved every minute of it. And the best part was the company. Jack and George were an odd pair to say the least. George, with his gruff exterior but heart as big as the lake, and Jack with his quick wit and infectious laughter. They made me feel like I belonged in a world where girls my age didn’t typically venture.
Most times, I’d sit and listen as they went back and forth with their banter. But sometimes I’d join in, earning my fair share of laughter. The dock became my second home, a place where I could be myself.
But every now and then, when I’d catch myself staring at Jack, my mother’s words would echo in the back of my mind. Jack was so effortlessly charming that people were drawn to him, and I was no exception. There were moments when his eyes would meet mine, lingering for just a breath longer than they should have. Moments when his hands brushed against mine as we worked side by side, sending a jolt of electricity through me. His smile was genuine and contagious, stirring emotions inside me that I had never felt before.
Time seemed to move differently whenever Jack was around. Days felt too short, nights too long. His laughter echoed in my dreams, his lake-soaked scent lingering on my clothes long after our work was done. I found myself daydreaming about him during quiet moments, his face as vivid in my mind as the sun setting over the lake.
Despite my mother’s warning, my feelings for Jack were growing stronger, like a wildflower blooming in an open field. They were wild and uncontrollable, deepening in color with each passing day. I knew I was on the brink of something indescribable, something that could be beautiful or devastating, or maybe even both at the same time.
Some nights, I’d sit at the edge of the dock, my bare feet dangling over the side into the cool water as the horizon swallowed the sun. Those were the moments when I would let my thoughts wander, tracing Jack's features in my mind, reliving our conversations. Jack would often join me, sitting quietly at my side. His closeness was comforting, his presence alone able to quiet my mind.
When we did speak, our conversations flowed naturally as they always did, effortless and familiar. We'd chat about the day's work, the latest town gossip, and our hopes and dreams. There was never talk of love, no passionate declarations or star-crossed promises. Our connection was not rooted in grand gestures but was instead built on quiet companionship and a mutual understanding that ran deeper than words could reach. This unspoken bond between us was far more compelling than any romantic novel. It was in the way he looked at me, and in the way he touched my shoulder when he passed me, a simple gesture that sent delicate shivers down my spine.
I was acutely aware of his presence, drawn to him like a ship to a lighthouse in the darkness. He was a silent beacon in the night, a magnet that tugged at the strings of my heart with an irresistible force.
We had become a part of each other’s lives, a constant anchor in the ebb and flow of everyday existence. I could no more imagine a day without him than I could envision a night without stars. The tranquility of our shared moments felt hauntingly fragile, like the thin frost on an early winter morning, beautifulyet so easily shattered with a simple touch. The fear of losing what we had clung to my heart in the lonely hours of the night. I would lie awake, staring at the vast expanse of the starlit sky, hoping and praying that our moment would last forever.
Present
“Did Jack ever reciprocate your feelings?”
Diane’s voice brought me back to the present, her question piercing through my reminiscence. I was momentarily lost, unsure of how to verbalize the complex web of emotions that had intertwined Jack and me.