Edgewater by Courtney Sheinmel Page B

wait while he ducked inside.
    Of course Lennox was dying to look inside, and she did. “An assembly line of food prep is going on,” she reported back.
    â€œBehind the Scenes at the Copeland Compound,” I said into an imaginary microphone. “By Lennox Sackler-Kandell.”
    â€œStay tuned for an in-depth interview with Charlie Copeland himself,” Lennox said. “When he talks about his father’s run, his own summer plans, and how much he loves Lorrie Hollander in that dress.”
    â€œNow you sound like a tabloid,” I told her, my cheeks warming. “And you don’t even know him. You can’t tell what he loves.”
    A few minutes later Charlie reemerged, a big box in his arms. Lennox and I followed him even farther away from the house and the lawn and all the action, into the woods on the property. It occurred to me that if I didn’t have Lennox with me, this would be getting a little too close to a scene out of some teen horror flick: Girl meets boy, boy seems too good to be true, girl gets all dressed up in a sexy dress and learns that when someone seems too good to be true, he usually is; in the middle of the fabulous party he’s brought her to, he leads her into the woods and, well, everyone knows the end of that story.
    Charlie stopped at a big oak tree. Steps spiraled around the trunk. “Here we are,” he said, gesturing upward. I looked up,and there, partly hidden by branches, was the biggest tree house I’d ever seen, its girth expanding well beyond the tree. The corners of the house were on wooden stilts, built to blend in with the trunks of the trees surrounding it. Up we went to a wraparound deck. “After you,” Charlie said as he pushed open the door. Lennox and I stepped inside, into a large room designed to look like the interior of a log cabin. I remembered something I’d read years earlier, in elementary school: Abraham Lincoln had been born and raised in a single-room log cabin. Though I doubted Abe’s childhood home had been so spacious and well-appointed, with thick Oriental rugs and built-in bookshelves. The trunk of the tree went through the center, from floor to ceiling, with a custom bench built around it. Charlie deposited the box of food on a large round table. “I’ve been up here a few times since we’ve been back in Idlewild, and it’s totally secure. I tested all the floorboards.”
    â€œWhy are you back in Idlewild?” Lennox asked.
    Maybe she didn’t have a press pass, but the journalist hat was on.
    â€œIt was always my mom’s favorite place,” Charlie said. “We haven’t been back in years, but she had some work she wanted to do here, and I think she finally wore my dad down. I guess marriage is about compromise, right? Anyway, if we weren’t back, I wouldn’t get to hang here with you.”
    â€œI think it’s great,” I said quickly, afraid that Lennox would have a bunch of follow-up questions. But her cell phone buzzed.
    â€œOh God, it’s Nathan,” she said.
    â€œHer ex,” I told Charlie.
    â€œIs it all right if I answer?”
    â€œOf course,” Charlie said. “Consider this the safe house.”
    Lennox pressed a button and held the phone to her ear. “Hey there.”
    Charlie turned to me. “You hungry?”
    â€œSure,” I said.
    â€œGod, Nathan. It’s not like that at all, and this is exactly why.” She paused. “Just hold on a sec. Actually, I’ll call you back.” She dropped the phone from her ear and turned to Charlie and me.
    â€œEverything okay?” I asked.
    â€œFine, fine,” she said. “I’m sorry, guys, I know this is super rude, but would you mind terribly if I step outside, just so I can call him back? I promise I won’t take any pictures or post anything.”
    â€œGo on,” Charlie said. “I’m really not worried about it.”