“Me too. A double waterfall.”
My eyes got big. “I’d want a second story deck. A big one that wrapped around the entire back of the house so I could sit up there on big, pillowed lounge chairs and watched the river. And a pergola with fairy lights, so when night came, I could turn them on and not be in the dark.”
“What about a big window seat inside that was actually a bed, so when winter came I didn’t have to freeze out on the deck. And we could lay there and watch the stars come out,” he added.
I moved to lie on my stomach, resting my chin in my hand, and I looked at him. “Oh, and for the summer, we could have a fire pit made with driftwood benches and filled with sand to feel like the beach.”
He moved to mirror my position, stretching his long body on the blanket. “I like that idea. You know what would be really fun?” he asked excitedly. “A pool that was both in the house and out of it. So we could swim outside in the sun or inside if the weather was bad. In the winter, we could fill it with snow and have a snow room.”
“Brr! How would we keep it from melting or making the inside cold?”
“Um…” His eyes drifted away in thought. “Well, it wouldn’t be an actual room in the house, but it would be an enclosed space, sort of like a garage minus the garage door.”
“Good idea.” I took a swig of my drink. “If this were my dream house, I’d need a library. A huge one filled with books I’d never read before. Floor to ceiling shelves and one of those cool sliding ladders that are in the movies. It’d also need to have a second level reading nook that you can only reach with a spiral staircase.”
“A reading nook? Isn’t anywhere a reading nook? You could use the deck chairs or the window seat as a reading nook.”
I pursed my lips in thought. “I could, but this would be special.”
“Special how?”
“I’d fill it with pillows. Different shapes and sizes and colors. It’d be a readers’ paradise.”
“You’re such a nerd,” he teased and dug through his backpack again. “What else would be in your dream home?”
I thought about it, and knew exactly what I wanted to say next, but embarrassment stopped me. My cheeks felt warm in a way that had nothing to do with the sun.
Law stopped searching his backpack when I didn’t immediately respond and crinkled his brow at me. “What is it? C’mon, tell me.”
“Please don’t laugh, but I always wanted a sister so I think it’d be cool to have a girl’s room and a boy’s room with built-in bunk beds that I could fill with my own kids someday.”
I couldn’t read the look on his face, and I quickly gave up trying. Whatever he thought about my idea, it took him a long time to come up with something to say. I heard him resume digging through his bag. “I brought lunch. Turkey and cheese.” He handed me a bulky ball of tinfoil.
I bit my lip to keep from smiling as I took it and unwrapped his handiwork. “Thanks.”
He tore off a chunk of his own sandwich and swallowed. “I like that idea. It’d feel almost like a year-round summer camp for them. Built-in bunk beds it is.”
A smile spread across my face so quickly I dropped my chin to my chest and aimed it at my knees to hide how happy his words made me. So maybe we were teenagers and talking about a future that would never happen. It still made stomach tingle to hear he wanted the same things I did.
Lunch was consumed in a comfortable silence, and after, we laid beneath the waterfall and talked. Our sophomore year was upon us, which meant learning to drive and formal dances. Law was excited for football to begin, to continue his reign of the youngest starting varsity player in 73 years. High school sports didn’t mean much to many people, but in a small town, football was everything. If something meant a lot to him, it meant a lot to me, too. I hadn’t missed a single game last year and didn’t intend to this year either.
“I could fall asleep,” I sighed. My eyes were closed, and the sun had moved so it now warmed my face.
“Me, too.”
I rolled my head to the side and took in his peaceful face. He looked like he was already asleep with his messy hair fanned over his forehead and his long dark lashes resting on his cheeks.
“You’re staring.”
“I am not.” I couldn’t keep the smile from my tone.
“You are, too. Ugh,” he groaned, suddenly sitting up. “We should get going. It’ll be a long hike back, and I need to be home for dinner.”
“I’m coming on one condition.”
Law shoved wrappers and empty cans in his backpack when he looked up at me. “What’s that?”
Something about the way the light hit his face made my heart beat faster. Which made me amend my statement.
“I lied, two conditions. One, we have to come back as often as we can.”
He squinted at me. “What’s the other one?”
I bit my lip and shifted my gaze away from his. Taking a deep breath, I sat up on my knees and looked him in the eye. “You can’t bring anyone here but me.”
Law pushed up on his knees across from me and closed the space between us. He reached for my hand and toyed with my fingers, his gaze trained on where we touched. I let him have his silence, but every second that ticked past ratcheted up my nerves.
Then, he trailed his fingertips up my arm to my shoulder, and moved the wayward strands of hair down my back. He moved his hand into the hair at the base of my neck and cupped the back of my head.
“Please don’t hate me for this.”
His words jammed my heart into my throat. Oh, no.
“H-hate you for what?”
“For this.”
Law held my head steady and kissed me. He hadn’t kissed me since the first time, and I had almost forgotten what it was like. A second of his mouth on mine was all it took to remember.
My stomach pitched like an ocean wave, and my hand shook at my sides. I wanted more of him, so I gripped the sides of his tee shirt and pulled. He fell into me, and we both went tumbling back down to the blanket on our sides. One of his hands stayed beneath my head while the other rested on my waist.
When he pulled back, his eyes were soft and warm. He dropped his eyes back to my mouth and went in for another kiss. “We have to go,” he whispered, and rested his forehead against mine. “I really don’t want to, but we have to.”
All I could do was nod. “Okay.”
Law packed up the blanket, took my hand, and led me away. I looked back over my shoulder for one last glimpse of the place that brought me so much hope and happiness.
Not knowing it would be the only time I ever saw it, and that he would break my first condition.
We never went back.
And I never had confirmation, but as far as I knew, he broke the second.
10
While Evelyn spends the next few days home from school with the flu, I make use of the time outside. Since this is my short work week, I have a lot of downtime. I love my daughter, but that doesn’t mean I love her germs. There’s only so much cleaning I can do inside before I’m repeating the same tasks with little result. Her bedding is in the wash and I sanitized everything she’s touched. Until she’s better, that’s the most I intend to do.
After opening some windows, which helps Evelyn breathe easier through the congestion, I retrieve the power washer and clean the ones still closed from the outside. The brisk air bites into my cheeks with an invigorating nip. I’m wheeling the power washer back to the garage when my phone rings.
“Hey girl. What’s up?”
“I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?” Kiersten fires back. “You drop this mega-bomb about the hottie who is supposedly your long-lost-love and then poof! I never hear about him again.”
“We don’t need to discuss this.”
This conversation requires fresh air. I swap the phone to my blue tooth and snatch my rake, leaving the warmth of my garage. Might as well keep working while she asks me twenty more questions.
“I think we do. I
’ve known you for what feels like a lifetime and I’m only now starting to realize that you are an emotion hoarder.”
My steps falter. “A what?”
“You hoard your emotions!” she cries, then keeps right on going. “I don’t know how you do it. I tell you everything. And, if I can’t get to you for a while, I feel like I’m dying inside.” She sighs. “Are you okay?”
What starts as a giggle transforms into an uncontrollable laugh. Before I know it, I have to clutch the handle of the rake for balance.
“Uh, Cami? Are you having an emotional breakdown right now? Because I have things to do, and I can’t come help you until later.”
“You. Are. Insane,” I wheeze. Tears stream down my cheeks, stinging like little paths of ice in the fall breeze. I swipe them away with the back of my work glove. “No, I’m not okay,” I say soberly as I regain control of myself.
“Oh, shit. I’ll be over later with bourbon.”
“No, no, no. I don’t need that. It’s just… I need you to understand this.” I rake the leaves closest to me in a heap while I gather my thoughts. Working outside and discussing my problems at the same time feels nice. Maybe I need to do this more often.
“I’ve seen Law twice since you met him last month, and neither time ended well. I’m more ready than ever to put him behind me. I need to shove him in a box, lock it, and throw away the key.”
“Are you crazy?”
“I need you to hear me. Not just hear me, but to actually listen. I can’t keep doing this to myself. There’s too much bitterness and resentment between us. I know you want to play cupid matchmaker and give me back the one thing I regret most in my life, but it’s not going to happen. Okay? Please, you’re my best friend, and I need you to drop it.”
“I have one more question and then I promise I’ll drop it.”
I lean against my rake and sigh. “What?”
“Are you sure?” she says softly, and my chest tightens. God, I love this girl. I don’t know what my life would have looked like here if I hadn’t found her.
Tears sting my eyes. I rake again to release some tension. “Yes. There’s no other option.”
“One more thing. This isn’t a question, but it is a requirement.”
Rolling my eyes feels good, even if she can’t see me. “Yes?”
“Go on a date. An actual date, not some tinder crash-and-burn type date. I’m taking you out to the bar, and you’re going to meet a man.”
I snort. “I’m not sure I’m going to meet anyone with potential at the bar in this tiny town. Pretty sure I’ve met them all.”
“They don’t have to have potential. You just need to be open to meeting someone. After that, you can graduate to proper dates where you worry about potential and shit.”
“Basically, you want me to get laid. Am I reading you, right?”
“Yes. You are hearing me loud and clear.”
“Great. That’s settled. Now, can I go finish raking my yard or do you have more questions?”
She hums teasingly. “Nah, I’m good. You get back to adulting.”
“Aren’t you at work?” I scoop the last of the leaves into the pile that now stands about knee high. I only have one leafy tree in my front yard, and I’m grateful it’s not bigger. The screens on the windows need changing and the gutters need emptying before winter comes.
“Nope. Mark brought in a new trainee and gave me the choice of a slow day or a day off.”
“Lucky,” I grumble.
“Says the woman who only works seven days a pay period.”
“Says the woman who works twelve-hour shifts.” While I talk, I return the rake to the garage and swap it out for a disposable green yard waste bag. “Well, go enjoy your day off.”
“Thanks, babe. Later.”
“Bye.”
Before long, the packed leaves wait by the curb for pickup, and I return my dirty work gloves to the garage. Something about the late fall air appeals to me. The rest of the work can wait until tomorrow. It feels like the perfect day to get in one of my last runs of the year through Arrow Creek Park.
* * *
The best part of Arrow Creek is the old Swinging Bridge that spans across the river. The bridge doesn’t swing, but the original did back in the 1950s. The area flooded during a torrential rainstorm twenty years later and it washed away. They rebuilt it into the rickety old bridge that stands today, but the name stuck.
Evelyn and I took many walks down here when she was just a toddler. She’d gather a handful of rocks from the river’s edge and carry them up to the ledge so she could throw them off. The sound of her giggles would fill the air, and even at a time in my life where I didn’t have stability, she made me feel as if we were exactly where we were supposed to be.
I slow to a jog as I near the entrance to the bridge and stroll across the middle of the old planks. I trace the weathered wood grains of the railing with my finger absently as my mind drifts off.
The cloudy, pale-gray sky makes the rushing river below appear nearly black. The tall brittle grass sways in the faint breeze. Now-bare trees stand tall, and the gold and orange leaves coat the ground below them.
A lot of towns across the country experience the full season of fall. I’d put money on Arrow Creek being the prettiest one.
Years went by before I felt comfortable enough to call Arrow Creek home, but that’s exactly what it is now. More than Logansville ever was, even though I lived there almost exactly as long. The only things tying me to my hometown are Ritchie and Law, and I brought my brother with me as soon as I could. Law remains a lost cause.
Unlike Ritchie, I left my parents buried in our hometown. It sucked to have their last resting place so far away. I’ve also learned to move on. I’ve lived without them both more years than I had with them alive. The reality is I haven’t had parents since I was eleven and a car accident stole their lives away. My heart contains the memories I need to get by.
After stretching my quads, I stroll in the direction I came. I need to head home in time to make dinner. Evelyn is usually independent, but she still isn’t feeling great. With the crazy hours my job demands, I make a point to have family dinners as often as we can.
The dense lower branches of a tree hover over the side of the trail. I step around the big pine and directly into the path of an oncoming cyclist.
“Look out!” He swerves around me, close enough his speed blows the hair out of my face.
Adrenaline courses through my system, and I leap back out of his way. My right foot lands on a large rock and stumbles over the smooth, rounded side. My ankle rolls beneath me. The hill isn’t steep, but the angle provides enough momentum. My uninjured leg doesn’t have enough traction to stop me as I skid down the embankment. I scrabble for purchase, tearing my hands over pebbles and sticks.
Something sharp scrapes up my back. The skin flames hot and painful beneath my shirt. I give up trying to stop and protect my face with my arms. Seconds later, I halt on the pebbled edge of the river.
“Ow. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” My face contorts in a grimace to keep from screaming out. Panic mixes with the adrenaline. I have to stay calm. Nobody can think rationally while freaking the hell out, and I’m dangerously close. I might be used to emergency situations, but I’m better when they don’t involve me.
Deep breath in. Deep breath out.
“Hello?” I hope the guy who ran me off the trail stuck around to check on me. The only sounds are rushing water and the rustling of leaves. “Is anyone up there? Can you hear me?”
I wait.
And wait.
“Hello?” I try again.
Nothing.
“Asshole,” I mutter, even though I feel like shouting it.
My palms are an angry red with several lacerations. They bleed a little, and the soft skin is torn to shreds. I carefully brush off some dirt and rocks, but it doesn’t help much. Debris is embedded in the cuts.
I check the side of my right leg next. With my torn-u
p hands, I roll my tight yoga pants to just below the knee. The skin matches that of my palms, minus the cuts.
Gritting my teeth together, I push myself into a seated position so I can examine my ankle. My palms sting from the pressure. Without looking, I can already tell that my ankle is swollen, but I don’t know if it’s broken. I try flexing. Pain sears through my entire foot.
“Someone help me!” My heart sinks at the silence, and my mind races through my options.
If I call Kiersten, she’ll send a rig. And even if she doesn’t, her skinny ass won’t be able to help me up this hill. An ambulance is the absolute last resort. I don’t need the extra bill for an injured foot.
Law’s out of the question. I don’t even have his number.
If I can crawl to the top, I can wait on the trail for someone to come by. My chances of getting noticed down here, where the sound of the rushing river drowns my yells, are zilch.
I use my forearm instead of my wrist to turn from sitting to my hands and knees. Well, forearms and knee. My right foot rests awkwardly on the ground to control the pressure. As I twist, my shirt moves with me and rips painfully from my back. A warm trickle runs down my spine.
Tears and sweat sting my eyes, but I muster strength. My left foot unsteadily supports me, adrenaline shaking my limbs. I rise into a half crouch. I hop once toward the hill and release a quiet cry of pain. My face crumbles. Even the slight jerking motion causes my ankle to throb.
“Shit!”
Accepting my reality, I lower myself back to the ground and dig my phone from my jacket pocket. I unlock it, but my thumb hovers over the keypad.
There’s only one other person left. I tap my contacts and scroll to my other best friend.
“Hey, everything okay?”
“The last thing I ever want to do is bother you on a day off, but I’ve sort of got myself into a jam.”
His voice shifts from curious to concerned. “What kind of jam?”
“The kind where having a paramedic as your friend is a good thing.”
Where We Meet Again Page 8