Ink and Ice by Erin McRae (novel books to read txt) 📕

in the walls and, to Zack’s more specific relief, warm. There was a hot water heater in one corner, and the room evidently hadn’t been updated since the eighties if the fake wood paneling and deep shag carpet were anything to go to. But there was a bed, a bathroom, and even a coffee maker set up on top of a dresser.

“It’s a bit weird,” Aaron said, his back to Zack as he tugged open the curtains flanking the windows a little further. There was more a note of challenge in his voice than apology, as if he were daring Zack to be judgmental about his home. “But everything here is a bit weird.”

Zack dropped his bags by the door. “I love it,” he said honestly. “I love weird, generally, really.” He tried not to think too hard, or at least too consciously, about whether and how Aaron fit under either of those words in his head.

“If you hear banging in the middle of the night, it’s just the pipes.”

“Duly noted.”

“And I had my folks bring down another space heater,” he said, pointing to the thing in the corner. “It should be warm enough, snow is a great insulator actually, but I know how you feel about the cold.”

“Thanks,” Zack said sincerely, touched.

“We’re gonna eat lunch soon, but if you want to get yourself settled...” Aaron’s voice trailed off and he drifted back toward the door. “Yell if you need anything.”

There wasn’t much Zack needed to do in the way of unpacking, but he was grateful for a few moments to himself to shake off the last of the plane nerves and recalibrate to his new surroundings.

As he sat down on the bed to take off his wet socks and put on dry ones, the scent of the same laundry detergent Aaron used rose around him. Zack let himself breathe deep and smiled.

AFTER LUNCH, AARON offered to take him on a tour of the island, and once they’d put all their layers back on they tromped back outside.

Aaron led the way down to the shore, or where the shore would have been had the lake not been frozen and the beach not covered in snow. The sound of pebbles crunching beneath their feet was the only sign they were so close to the water. Aaron, who had been so chatty on their journey, was silent as they walked side-by-side.

The snow wasn’t very deep, just past their ankles really, but the path hadn’t been cleared and the walk took more effort than Zack had expected.

“How big is this place?” he asked.

“Not big. Maybe a couple miles around.”

“And it’s just your family here?”

“What? No.” Aaron laughed. “I’m not James Bond, my family doesn’t own a private island. There’s like four other families. You’ll see their houses as we go.”

“Still, four other families is not a lot of people.”

“It’s not. But there’s forty or so that stay year-round on the main island. So by comparison.”

“Mind if I take some pictures?”

“Knock yourself out.”

Zack was glad he’d brought his camera. There wasn’t much to see, to be sure, but what was there was rich in shape and texture: The bare branches of trees silhouetted against the sky, the mossy roof of one of the neighbor’s houses, a tiny frozen waterfall where a stream ran down to the shore.

Aaron perched on a rock by the edge of the ice to watch him. “I didn’t know you did nature pictures too.”

There was a slight emphasis on the ‘too’ that made Zack immediately think of the last time he’d had his camera out with Aaron: The night before Aaron had left for the Grand Prix Final. He wondered if Aaron still had the picture Zack had taken of him then.

“I don’t usually get the chance. But it’s beautiful here.”

“Beautiful and strange,” Aaron said.

“Like you,” Zack said, before he could stop himself.

Perched on his rock, his cheeks already red from the cold, he was pretty sure Aaron blushed.

BY THE TIME THEY RETURNED to the house from their walk, the sky was already growing dark, which meant the whole snowy landscape was slowly fading into dusty purple twilight.

They ate dinner together with Aaron’s family, where they caught Aaron up on all the local news that hadn’t gotten covered at lunch. After dinner Ari went out to the garage with Mrs. Sheftall to work on a recalcitrant motor of some sort, and Aaron went off with his dad to his parents’ office to deal with some of the accounting he did for them, leaving Zack to his own devices.

He sank into one of the overstuffed armchairs near windows that peered out towards the lake. Behind him was a hearth in which a fire crackled merrily, throwing warm light around the room. Beside it, was a waist-high synthetic tree, decorated with twinkling lights, an assortment of blue and white plastic dreydls, and topped with silver-painted wooden menorah that looked a bit like a high-school shop class project gone awry. And that, Zack told himself, must be the Hanukkah bush. He wondered if it was Aaron or Ari that had made the topper.

By now it was fully dark outside, and far on the horizon he could see lights glimmering faintly. The distant signs of human habitation, invisible during the day, somehow made this little house seem even more remote.

It had been a long time since Zack had just sat and done nothing, and he found himself zoning out peacefully, watching the lights blink on the horizon. In the distance, he could hear a dog barking.

ZACK CAME TO SOME TIME later to the touch of a hand on his arm. He jerked awake, his heart pounding, but it was only Aaron crouched in front of him, a look of concern on his face.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Zack scrubbed a hand over his face. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“You’ve had a busy day,” Aaron said, without a trace of sarcasm. “Here you go.” He set down a mug