Three
Sandy Lake, Wisconsin
“Hit it!” Jen yelled from the deep, blue water in the middle of the lake.
Jake, her younger brother and partner in crime, slammed the throttle on his tricked-out ski boat, pulling Jen out of the water at the end of a 75-foot rope. She rose gracefully on a slalom ski, a huge bubble of spray encasing her until she burst through it, planing out on the water’s glassy surface.
Sunglasses perched above her nose, a huge smile on her face, Jen cut an athletic silhouette against the late afternoon sun, skiing with an easy grace indicative of a childhood devoted to the sport.
Kristin, not sure whether to be scared or excited, bounced on Tommy’s lap, clutching her pink plastic cell phone in her hand. She insisted on bringing it everywhere.
As Jen cut from one side of the wake to the other, sending 20-foot rooster tails of spray into the air, Kristin realized that her mommy was having the time of her life, so her whoops quickly turned gleeful. She clapped her hands against her phone and shook her bare feet against Tommy’s legs.
Tommy was in awe of Jen’s skiing, again impressed with this woman who had stolen his heart, briefly completed it, broken it, distanced herself from it, mended it, and finally befriended it. But, make no mistake, she still held it in the palm of her hand. Here she was again, making his heart burst with pride while he held their daughter and watched the show.
Flying across the water at the end of a rope, Jen was in her element. She caught a glimpse of a rainbow in the spray her ski created before she shifted her weight and cut the opposite direction across the wake. The rainbow didn’t appear every time she made a rooster, so when it did, she delighted in the good omen, basking in the late sun of the day and the ability to reconnect with the frivolity of her youth. In contrast to her serious medical practice, the simple sport of water skiing allowed her to forget about the stress of her job.
She cast her troubles aside, but Amanda’s face suddenly appeared. God. Amanda. Why am I thinking about her?! Why do I wish she were here, watching me ski, enjoying this moment with me? Go away, cheater. Let me live my life!
Jen cut harder with her ski, leaning down closer to the water as she pulled on the rope with all her might. Jake was driving fast, faster than they had gone in their youth, but Jen weighed a few more pounds than she did in her teens, so she required a bit more horsepower this summer. Plus, Jake had told her that faster was easier because the ski carved across the surface better.
Unfortunately, the edge of the wake was also larger behind Jake’s boat. As she came out of her turn and sliced through the wake, the rudder of the ski skipped then popped out of the water. She knew she was going to fall, so she quickly released the rope and rolled onto her shoulder and back, skimming across the water. Instinct took over and her hands flew to her face, covering her expensive sunglasses. When she came to a stop, a wave washed over her head and she went under briefly, but was relieved to find her glasses still on her face.
Jake had already turned the boat and was coming back for her, so she quickly loosened the ski boots and removed her feet, holding the ski tip up in the air, so he would know exactly where she was. Patrick, her studious brother, came to the driver’s side of the boat behind Jake and grasped Jen’s ski while she swam to the ski rope and pulled herself to the swim platform at the stern.
“Awesome wipeout, sis!” Patrick said above the purr of the boat engine.
“Thanks. That fall took me by surprise.” She hoisted herself onto the platform, rubbing her neck. “I felt every bit of it.”
“Looked like the wake popped the back of your ski.”
“Must have. I misjudged my speed and angle when I made my cut.” She rose to her feet on the platform, steadying herself against the rocking motion of the waves while pulling in the ski rope.
“Mama!” Kristin yelled. Tommy set her down, and she scooted onto the back seat, her toy pink cell phone in her hand as she watched Jen loop the rope.
After a few seconds, Jen hung the coiled rope on the canopy rack then scooted across the back of the boat to land on the seat beside Kristin. Tommy tossed her a towel, and Jen wrapped it around herself, so Kristin could sit on her lap.
“Do you like watching Mommy ski?”
Kristin answered by holding her phone to her ear and saying, “Yes.”
“Mommy will teach you to ski someday.”
Kristin shook her head and said into her phone, “Nooooo.”
Tommy laughed. “Smart girl.”
“Why not?” Jen asked Kristin.
“Scary!” Kristin said, still talking on her phone.
Jen flicked away corkscrew curls from Kristin’s eyes. “You might change your mind someday.” To the group, Jen asked, “Is anyone going again?”
“I’m beat. I had my tasty waves, now I need a cool buzz, and I’ll be fine.” Jake flashed a white grin.
“Nice line, Jeff Spicoli,” Tommy said.
Jake chuckled. “You watched Fast Times at Ridgemont High ?”
“I lived it,” Tommy said.
Jake nodded knowingly. Not a particularly large man, he had a lean, athletic build that attracted the ladies. Fulfilling the stereotypical baby-of-the-family role of the four Dawson children, Jake was a character who liked to ignore rules.
Patrick had no idea what they were talking about. In contrast to Jake and their other brother, Duncan, Patrick was blessed with intellectual acumen. A small, wiry man bearing a cautious smile, he usually preferred to stay inside and study his thick compendium of Dungeons and Dragons, preparing to lead a campaign as the Dungeon Master. After days of prep work, he would skype his long-lost college buddies, so they could play a several-hour game. He shared a competitive streak with his siblings but channeled it much differently.
“Sounds like we all need a beer.” Jen slid the cooler out from under the dashboard.
“I’m down with that since I can’t do water sports,” Tommy said, basking in the 80-plus-degree sunshine, his hairy chest turning bleach-blonde before her eyes. His right arm was still in a sling to prevent him from overusing it, as he recuperated from his gunshot wound, courtesy of Amanda’s assistant, Mel. He had gone down with her first bullet but had rallied to shoot Mel before she killed Amanda.
Jen passed out beers and a juice box for Kristin, and they air-toasted before drinking. The day was so sunny that Jen didn’t even need a coverup after skiing. She air-dried in the hot sun, as Jake drove slowly from one end of the lake to the other, returning to their family point after an hour of listening to music and watching their neighbors ski.
Soon, the residents would board their pontoons for a cocktail-hour cruise around the lake, greeting one another and snooping at their neighbors’ properties to see who bought the latest toy and how big it was.
Jen loved the small town feel of her family lake, so unlike San Francisco, where she didn’t know her neighbors and never ran into any friends or acquaintances at the grocery store, church, or a restaurant. The only people she and Amanda ran into seemed to be Amanda’s angry and bitter ex-lovers. They lurked everywhere, confronting Amanda for her selfish, uncaring exit of the relationship. Am I just another bitter ex-lover?
Jen again batted away unbidden thoughts of Amanda.
Jake’s yellow lab, Ranger, trotted back from the bow and nestled around Jen’s legs, giving Kristin a big lick across her feet.
“Yaner!” she yelled, giggling.
Even though the dog’s name was Ranger, Kristin associated all dogs with Jen’s first dog, Zane, whom Kristin had called “Yane” or “Yaner,” because she couldn’t pronounce a “Z” at the time.
After a few days of Kristin calling Ranger “Yaner,” the entire family had lapsed into the habit. Ranger didn’t seem to mind, responding to his new name with a wagging tail and happy spirit.
Kristin lay a hand on Yaner’s head.
“Too bad you have that nasty wound, Tommy, or we’d have you skiing in a heartbeat,” Jake said.
“I’ve never skied before,” Tommy said. “Might be a disaster.”
“You’ve surfed, though,” Jen said. “Skiing is much easier than surfing.”
“Well, I was never a very good surfer,” Tommy said. “I just didn’t have the time. Those guys are devoted—at the beach at dawn and again at sunset. I had to work for a living.”
“Doesn’t jive with a full-time job,” Patrick said.
Tommy clinked cans with Patrick. “Righto.”
“Where Mama Man?” Kristin asked, her innocent blue eyes genuinely curious.
Tommy and Jen looked at each other. “Ahh. Mama Man is at home,” Jen said.
“Cabin?” Kristin asked, pointing toward the cabin.
“No, honey, back in San Francisco.”
Kristin frowned. “I miss Mama Man.”
Jen’s chest tightened.
Tommy inclined his head. “We all do, sweetie. But look, you have Mommy and Daddy right here.” He spread his arms wide. “Come to Daddy for a big hug.”
“No!” She angled her face away and drank her juice box.
Tommy groaned. “You’re breaking Daddy’s heart.”
“No!” She raised her hand like a STOP sign, then suddenly threw her toy cellphone over the side of the boat. “Bye, Mama Man!”
“What the heck?” Jen asked in surprise. “Jake, turn around. We have to get Kristin’s toy phone.”
He slowed and made a tight turn, so Patrick could lean over the side and scoop up the pink, plastic phone. He handed it to Jen. “Mama Man?”
“Kristin couldn’t pronounce ‘Amanda,’ so she shortened it to ‘Man,’” Jen said. “She obviously is imitating me. She saw me throw Amanda’s phone over our balcony.”
Tommy sniggered.
Jen gave him a disapproving look.
“Oh, come on,” he said. “You have to admit it’s funny that Kristin is imitating you and calling her ‘Mama Man.’”
Jen closed her eyes and held her face up to the sun. She’d be damned if she’d make fun of Amanda, even though Amanda had hurt her. The hurt had exploded to rage, had simmered to anger, and now was at cold resignation.
“Come on,” Tommy said, giving Jen’s leg a gentle nudge with his sunburned foot.
“I’m not going to bash Amanda just because I’m—” Jen said.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” he said. “I’m not bashing her. I’m just laughing at Kristin’s name for her.”
“Why isn’t Amanda here?” Patrick asked. “Mom said something about a breakup, but I want to hear it from you.”
Jen sighed. “I told her I needed some space away from her and her crazed life.”
“Ohhh,” Patrick and Jake said in unison. “Space, huh?”
“Yes. Space.”
“I’ve heard that line before,” Jake said. “Right before she broke up with me.”
“I might have said, ‘We’re done,’ too,” Jen added.
Tommy raised his eyebrow at her. “You ghosted her.”
Jen squinted at him to keep a lid on it. “I had to. Her behavior is toxic.”
“Toxic behavior?” Patrick asked.
“Yes,” Jen said without explanation.
Undeterred, Patrick asked. “What type of behavior? I’m curious. Maybe I can learn something.”
Jen groaned.
“I seriously doubt it.” Tommy shook his head and drank his beer.
“Tell me. Maybe I can offer some insight,” Patrick said.
Jake snorted. “Oh yes, the expert on women. How many girlfriends have you had? Two?”
“Eff you,” Patrick said. “Just because I value a meaningful relationship and don’t sleep with every girl I meet—”
“Kind of difficult to sleep with a girl if you’re up all night with a bunch of guys playing Dungeons and Dragons,” Jake said.
“Please don’t swear in front of Kristin,” Jen said.
“I said ‘eff,’” Patrick said.
“Just the same,” she said.
“Back to you and Amanda,” Patrick said. “This is why you have brothers. You share stuff with us, and we help you. What behavior?”
She sipped her beer while considering her options. “I can’t believe I’m about to tell you this. She…ahh…”
Patrick hung on every word.
Tommy smirked.
“She what?” Patrick volleyed his eyes between Tommy and Jen.
“She fooled around on me about six months ago, and since that time, she went through rehab for abuse of painkillers, but once she was out of rehab, she started smoking again, both cigarettes and Mary Jane. Then, she got hammered with Tommy a few nights ago…” Jen’s blood started to boil, just thinking about it. “And, well…the Coup de gras was a few days ago when a certain photo emerged.”
“Oh,” Patrick said in an ominous tone, still looking between Tommy and Jen. “Drug addiction issues? And, she fooled around on you? With a woman or a man?”
“A woman,” Jen said though clenched teeth. A high-pitched ringing started in her inner ear.
“Like, a hookup or in a relationship?” he asked.
“A hookup,” Jen mumbled. “They were on a business trip for a few days.”
“Only a few days?” Patrick asked.
“Yes. Amanda was shot in the ribs on their trip, so she got high on painkillers and wine, and they slept together that night, but I think they did the next day too. At least, that’s what I’m piecing together based on a selfie that recently surfaced.”
“Gunfire?” Patrick asked. “What kind of business trip was this?”
“She leads a dangerous life,” Jen said. “An assassin who worked for the North Koreans attempted to kill them in New York. Amanda’s C-U-N-T lover, Roxy, an MI-6 agent, shot, and killed, the assassin. Amanda got hit in the ribs as she was crawling through a patio door, or so she told me.” Jen threw her arms in the air in a too-much-to-believe gesture.
“I didn’t know DA’s hung out with MI-6 agents,” Patrick said.
“I don’t believe any of that,” Jake scoffed while driving.
“It’s true,” Tommy said. “It was a unique case. Amanda was called to New York to meet with the Attorney General and CIA about prosecuting a North Korean hitman in San Francisco that Roxy and I busted, and I later killed.”
Patrick’s jaw hung open. “You killed a North Korean hitman?”
“Yes. Roxy and I handled the investigation together.”
“You guys roll hard,” Patrick said.
“No shit,” Jake said.
“How does the ‘selfie’ of Amanda and Roxy come into play?” Patrick asked.
“Since Amanda is an elected official, the North Koreans tried to blackmail her a few weeks ago by threatening to publish it. When she didn’t pay $100,000, they actually published not only a nude pic of Amanda that she sent me but also a selfie of Amanda and Roxy—in bed,” Jen said, choking out the last two words.
“Is she nude in the selfie?” Patrick asked.
“She is in the one she texted to me,” Jen said. “The second one is just of Amanda and Roxy’s faces.”
“Their necks and chests are in the pic too,” Tommy supplied helpfully.
“Oh?” Patrick asked.
“So, I get my heart broken, and you two just want to see my ex-fiancée naked?” Jen asked, looking disapprovingly between Tommy and Patrick.
“I just want to see the evidence. How bad it is, you know?” Patrick said.
“Yeah, right,” Jake said.
“Plus, I can’t remember what Amanda looks like. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen a pic of her,” Patrick said.
“Just google her,” Tommy said.
“Hand me my phone,” Jen said, nodding at the passenger side dashboard. “I’ll show you a few pics of her.”
Tommy grabbed Jen’s phone and handed it to her.
She thumbed through her saved photos and pulled up a clothed one of Amanda. “Here.” She handed her phone to Patrick.
“Wow,” he said, his voice thick with admiration. “She’s really hot. Hotter than any girlfriend Jake or I have ever had.”
“Speak for yourself,” Jake said. “But I agree. She’s hot.”
“You should see her naked.” Tommy tilted back his beer, draining it.
“What?” the other three said in unison.
“Oops. Sorry. Shouldn’t have said that.” He lay his puppy-dog eyes on Jen, cleared his throat, and lowered his voice, adopting the tone of official police business. “She showed Lieutenant Navarro and me her nude selfie when the North Koreans tried to blackmail her with it.”
“Why did she show you and Navarro?” Jen asked.
“To advise her about what to do,” he said. “Remember, they included a ransom note.” Tommy studied her, making sure she wasn’t pissed at him.
Jen moved on. “Do you think it was too harsh of me to tell her not to come here?”
Tommy raised his hands. “Don’t put me in the middle.”
Jen’s stomach clenched. “You’re right. That was unfair.”
No more questions issued forth from Patrick, preoccupied with snooping through photos on Jen’s phone.
Jen tried and failed to enjoy the remainder of her light beer. The taste had soured while discussing Amanda’s heroic deeds of legal righteousness and moral turpitude. Jen poured the beer out over the side of the boat and tried to enjoy the beauty of the passing shoreline, teaching Kristin the names of all things on the lake.