Page 137 of The Long Way Home
Slone tilts her head at him, eyes sharp. “I told him about a week ago. He’d been sworn to secrecy. It’s not his fault.”
Anderson smirks, the first crack in his calm exterior. “Yep. Strictest secret-keeper in the South.”
“Wow, that’s huge,” Rhett says finally, shaking his head in awe.
Slone shrugs, fingers curling lightly around her drink. She doesn’t quite look as casual as she sounds.
“I got a job opportunity I just couldn’t turn down. It’s a creative strategy role at a healthcare nonprofit. They’re expanding their outreach and wanted someone to revamp how they connect with younger communities. Part digital, part boots-on-the-ground. Right up my alley.”
She pauses, glancing at Margo briefly before returning her gaze to the group.
“And yeah… being closer to you guys doesn’t hurt,” she adds, tossing the words off lightly, though the smile says otherwise.
Slone leans forward again, demanding our attention with that sly grin. “Also, I’ve convinced Lex to move with me.”
“Oh, so we’re spilling those beans too?” Lexi laughs, “You’re making me sound like I didn’t have a choice.”
“Come on,” Slone teases, smirking. “You didn’t seem to argue much.”
Margo’s eyes sweep the group, a grin tugging at her lips. “Well, this just turned into a reunion of Atlanta’s finest.”
“Makes the next get-together way easier to plan.” Rhett grins, shoulders relaxing.
Connor nudges Wes, voice low. “One more reason for you to move back home.”
Wes shakes his head, laughing. “Ah, I don’t know about that.”
I sip my drink, feeling the sun warm my skin, and let the laughter wash over me.
Lexi stretches her legs out in front of her, her toes just skimming the wood of the dock. “Okay, am I the only one starving?”
“Me too,” Rhett says with a grin. “Are we grilling tonight?”
Anderson stands and dusts the sand off his hands. “Yeah. I picked up some more stuff this morning when I ran into town. I’ve got burgers, veggies, oh, and I got those jalapeño cheddar sausages you love, Rachel. Margo mentioned you were obsessed with them when you guys used to come here.”
I look up, surprised to hear my name spoken so casually. And just like that, it hits me square in the chest.
Josh used to grill that sausage. Every single time we came to the lake. He called it his secret weapon, like it wasn’t store-bought and obvious to all of us. He’d stand by the grill with a beer in one hand, humming some half-forgotten classic rock song under his breath, sunburned and barefoot, like he was born for afternoons exactly like this. Like this was the life he was always meant to have.
The sound of Anderson’s voice and the familiar scent of sunscreen blur the line between then and now. I can almostsee Josh there. I can almost feel the warmth of those summers stacked on top of each other, uncomplicated and endless. When he was still here. Still laughing. Still my big brother.
The lump in my throat rises fast. I swallow it down, forcing the moment back into its place before it can spill over. I press on a smile and hope it passes.
“Sounds perfect,” I say, “Thanks, Anderson.”
I watch as the others start gathering their things, the easy rhythm of conversation shifting to grill duty and cocktail assignments. Laughter drifts up toward the house. I tell myself I just need a minute, one small pocket of quiet, and then I’ll feel steadier.
As they start up the path, I call out, “I’ll be up in a bit.”
Margo glances over her shoulder. “You sure?”
“Yeah, I just want a few more minutes out here. It’s too pretty to rush.”
That part is true. It’s just not the reason.
They disappear into the house, and once I’m alone, I walk to the end of the dock and sit, letting my feet dangle over the water. The lake laps softly against the wood.
This place has a way of holding the echoes of my past. My grief sneaks in sideways, in the shape of a sausage or the tone of someone’s voice. It is the tug in my chest I didn’t expect, the one that says I’m not done missing him. I know I never will be.
