by Stacy Monson
“This sounds like a conversation best had over ice cream. C’mon, let’s walk over to Vi’s.” He stood and crooked an eyebrow at her. “You do like ice cream, right?”
She faced him across the desk. “Would I get fired if I said no?”
“Of course not. But you’d be relegated to trash pickup for the next two weeks.” The sparkle in his eyes countered his serious tone.
“Then I love ice cream.”
They shared a laugh as he followed her and Lula out of the office. The late afternoon sun warmed her shoulders as they started the mile hike toward town, and she pulled in a deep breath. “If only I could bottle this air.” This moment.
“I’m glad you can’t,” he said, matching her stride on the path. “This way you have to come back for a fix.”
“Oh, I will, believe me. I’m definitely a mountain girl now.”
“Yes!” He pumped his fist. “I knew we’d get you hooked.”
He asked about day camp and working with Kyle. When she admitted he was far more professional and knowledgeable than she’d expected, he chuckled. “He comes off as a sort of clueless ski bum, but he’s got degrees in recreational administration and rec therapy. I know the dude’s gunnin’ for my job.”
“Maybe he’ll open a rival camp.”
“That would only be good news for the community, especially with how our waiting list keeps growing. He just has to find a different mountain.”
“That can’t be too hard since there seems to be an abundance,” she said with a laugh, scooping up Lula who’d been prancing in front of her.
“You’d think so, but there’s lots of federal land and parks that don’t allow camping. It will take some work to find a spot as good as ours.”
When they reached Violet’s shop, Mikayla scolded her heart for wanting to keep on walking. Dawson was cute, smart, fun, and extremely knowledgeable, but he was also her boss. Temporarily. It did her no good to get caught up in thoughts unrelated to camp, especially when she had to leave soon. Much too soon.
“Well, two of my favorite people!” Violet met them in the doorway of her shop. “And my favorite four-legged friend,” she added, stroking Lula’s head. “What brings you kids wandering into town?”
They glanced at each other and answered, “Ice cream!”
“It’s a perfect afternoon for a treat, isn’t it? Daws, I’ve got a new flavor I think you’ll like.”
They followed her and stood at the counter. She gathered two sampling spoons and scooped a bit of ice cream. “See what you think of this.”
Dawson tasted it, then nodded quickly, smacking his lips. “You know me well, Vi. It’s obviously white chocolate, but what else?”
“White chocolate and brownie cheesecake.”
They nodded in unison. “Yes, please!”
“On sugar cones,” Dawson added.
Violet laughed as she scooped their choice. “Two peas in a pod.”
“Hmm. Pea-pod ice cream,” Mikayla said, nose wrinkled. “That wouldn’t cut it.”
“Vegetables don’t belong in ice cream,” he agreed.
Settled outside, they enjoyed their treat in silence, Lula daintily chewing a tiny dog bone from Violet. When Mikayla looked up, Dawson was frowning at her. She quickly wiped her face. Apparently she ate ice cream like a two-year-old. “Am I making a mess?”
“What? No! Sorry. You just…you remind me of someone.” He went back to his ice cream. “Certain expressions. I thought it a couple times during camp, but nobody’s come to mind. Maybe someone I knew in high school. So tell me what you’ve been pondering.”
Between bites, Mikayla talked about the questions that continued to pester her, and the wonderful emails the girls had sent. “But while they seem stronger in their faith, I’m only more confused.”
“About?”
She shrugged. “Who God is. Why He is. How people get guidance and answers from Him. Why do terrible things happen to good people?”
“Ahh, the simple stuff,” he said, a teasing glint in his eyes.
She laughed. “Exactly. I’d like to hear your story, how you came to believe. I know it has to do with Walt, but there’s got to be a lot more.”
“There is.” He popped the last of his cone into his mouth and leaned back to stare up at the sky, eyes narrowed. “Like I said before, I wasn’t too thrilled about being at the camp, and was pretty obnoxious about it. Walt was probably the most chill guy I’ve ever met. He took me and my attitude the way they were and let the work of the week do the talking. Where now we bring a lot of supplies up ahead of time, back then we had to haul all of it, so when I say work, I mean it. Those first few days we were exhausted, which kept things low-key.”
His gaze grew distant, a smile toying at his mouth. “I think Walt was happy I was too tired to mouth off. But once I got my strength back, the challenge was on. I didn’t believe God had anything to do with my life, or it wouldn’t have been so messed up, so Him being part of it now was a little late, in my opinion.”
He leaned the chair back on two legs. “Walt let me talk my macho teenage self into one corner after another, running into dead ends every time. Some kids had similar views, some already had a pretty strong faith, so there were interesting discussions around the fire. Walt shared parts of his story throughout the week, which had a bigger impact on me than I knew at the time. Once camp was done and I went home, there were things I just couldn’t shake.”
“Like?”
“Things he’d said about God, stuff in the Bible. And needing to consider the consequences of our choices and actions. He’d challenged us at the end to make our lives stand for something, and to be the ones to decide; not a judge or parole office, or anyone else. How we lived our lives was our choice. That had the most impact.”
Stand for something. The words reverberated, both an exciting challenge and a frightening prospect. It was up to her where she went from here, how she wanted to live. What relationships she wanted to have. Or not have.
On the return walk, they exchanged stories of previous camping and guiding experiences that kept them laughing. Before they parted outside the lodge, Dawson leveled a serious gaze on her. “It still holds true, Kayla. Whatever you decide about your family, your job—it’s up to you. God’s happy to provide guidance, but you’ll need to ask.” A smile lightened his expression and he winked. “I guarantee you won’t be sorry if you do.”
She nodded. “I have a lot to learn, don’t I?”
“We all do.” He held up a finger. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” He went into the lodge, then reemerged with a book in his hand. “We keep these on hand for anyone who doesn’t have one.”
He held out a Bible, which she accepted automatically. “Thanks.” It felt heavy in her hands, yet it lightened her heart. This would help her decide if faith was an idea worth pursuing.
“Don’t start at the beginning,” he said, taking it back and opening it to the middle. “Read some of the Psalms, which is a book of conversations, really—people being honest with God when they were angry, scared, questioning, or just plain happy. Then read though John, which will help you understand who Jesus is. We can talk about it whenever you want.”
She clutched the book to her chest and smiled. No one had ever given her something of this magnitude before. Not even her parents. “Thanks. This means a lot.”
Kyle stuck his head out the front door and told Dawson he had a call. He nodded, then looked back at Mikayla. “Seriously. Whenever you have questions or want to work through something that doesn’t make sense, let me know.”
As she chopped wood later, the Bible sitting on a nearby stump, Dawson’s challenge echoed in her head. She had decisions to make in the coming weeks that would affect the rest of her life. A daunting prospect and yet…if God helped her, maybe not so hard to do.
She split another log. Tonight, when she got in bed, she’d check out this book that meant so much to him and see if it spoke to her. If not, no harm done. She’d just
make those decisions on her own as she’d planned. She sighed, setting up the next log. She was tired of being on her own.
~26 ~
After breakfast Wednesday morning, before the day campers arrived, Mikayla plopped onto her bed for a quick email check. The one from Lindy about Dad’s tuxedo fitting left her giggling. Then there was one from Dad. Probably about the fitting. She opened his with a smile.
Hey kid. Ive tried to call a couple times, but the calls aren’t going through. Whatd you do—go to Siberia? Ha. Anyway, there’s something I need to tell you. I didnt want to share it this way but I want you to have time to think about it before you come home. I hope when Im done you can find it in your heart to forgive me.
Unable to pull in a full breath, she massaged the sudden throbbing in her temples. She couldn’t imagine him doing anything that would require forgiveness. Heart beating disjointedly against her ribs, she read on.
Early in our marriage I did something stupid that almost ended things before they really got started. We got Maggie not long after we were married. Maybe 6 months. We were barely in our 20s. I worked long hours at one job, then took on a second job so your mom could stay home with Maggie. She was alone a lot. That was hard on her but the good thing is it gave her a chance to learn how to be a great mom. The bad thing is I felt ignored whenever I was home because they didnt seem to need me.
I was young and self-centered. I’d go out with the work crowd and have a few beers. When I got home I wasnt always in the best shape, so we argued a lot. I worked even more hours just to stay out of the house.
Hand at her throat, Mikayla lifted her gaze to the window. No. This isn’t going where it sounds like it’s going. He wouldn’t do that.
Things got rough between your mom and me. Life was all about me. I was frustrated that she didnt appreciate all my work so she could have the house she’d wanted. So when a girl at work came on to me and seemed to appreciate me, I figured I deserved some fun.
Tears splattered onto the keyboard. No, no, no…
It didn’t last very long, and I felt so guilty I told your mom. I’ve never forgotten the look on her face. I hope I never do. She took Maggie to Cindy and Jim’s that summer to decide if she wanted to stay married. It was the longest couple months of my life. I sent letters promising Id never do it again and I never have. I was the luckiest man in the world when she and Maggie came back. I’ve spent the last 30 years making it up to her.
Mikayla leaned her head back against the wall, eyes closed. The splintering of her life was complete. Drawing in a jagged breath, she finished reading.
Im sorry, Mikayla. I know you don’t want to know any of this, but your mom shouldn’t take all the blame. This mess is both our making but I started it. I hope someday you can forgive your old man. I don’t deserve it but at least I can ask. And I’m sorry you girls are the ones paying the price. I hope you’ll still call me Dad when you come home.
Closing the laptop in slow motion, she sat rigid as the room spun, a hand at her stomach. There were no thoughts, no raging emotions. Just the sensation of the last truth she’d clung to being flushed away.
She dashed down the hall to the women’s restroom and released the bile of her old world. It didn’t go easily, but finally she slumped against the wall, sweat gliding down her spine where she rested against the cool cement.
What did she have left? Her family wasn’t her family. The man she’d trusted and adored was a mirage. She’d lived thirty years in a glass house that now lay shattered at her feet.
The swish of the restroom door, then Brenda’s voice. “Mikayla? The day camp bus should be here any minute. You coming?”
“Yeah,” she croaked, then cleared her throat. “Be right there.”
“You sound awful.”
“A little headache, but I’ll take some aspirin and be fine. I’ll meet you outside in two minutes.
In the silence, Mikayla could almost hear Brenda’s eye roll.
“You’re sure?”
“Yup.” Once the door shut, Mikayla emerged from the stall and wobbled to the sink. The girl in the mirror gazed back at her. Blue eyes dark with pain, skin a grayish white. She leaned on the cold ceramic sink and dropped her head. No, she wasn’t fine. They’d obliterated her past, turned her memories inside out. Would she ever be fine?
The thud of her heartbeat came slowly. If Lindy weren’t getting married, she’d never go back. Never face any of them again. With a defeated sigh, she lifted her head. But she’d promised Lin she’d be there, and so she would. How she’d manage it was another issue.
“You’ll live through this,” she told the pathetic reflection. “One step at a time.”
She splashed cold water on her face, rinsed her mouth, and pulled the door open. She wouldn’t let Dawson or the team down. With one last wobbling step, she drew a deep breath and left the building, chin up, eyes ahead. Her almost-mended heart now fully broken.
By the end of camp Friday afternoon, she was barely upright. It had taken every ounce of concentration to keep smiling, interacting with the kids. Once the bus rounded the corner, she let her arm drop and trudged to her room where she’d hidden the past few nights. Stretched on the bed, she closed her eyes, but the parade of images popped them open again. The room was stifling, the silence mocking. Lula was off with what the staff laughingly called “her boys,” keeping Pal and Bruno in line.
Mikayla rolled off the bed and yanked her hiking boots on, glancing at the Bible on her bedside table. With a brief shake of her head, she grabbed her backpack and headed out. She’d discovered a sweet little spot hidden off the main trail where she could disappear into the vastness of the forest, gaze up at the mountains and lose herself in the moment. After Dad’s revelation, she didn’t want to be found.
Rob was chopping wood as she rounded the corner of the shower house. He paused, wiping his forehead, and called, “You around for dinner tonight, Mikayla?”
“Not tonight. See you later.”
“Got your walkie?”
She patted her hip where it was still clipped from day camp and gave a thumbs up. She knew the rest of the staff were watching her, no doubt wondering if she was sick or mad at one of them. Every speck of energy had been consumed by the kids each day, leaving nothing for mealtime discussion.
She followed the trail. Veering into the woods, she trod softly over the path she’d worn the last few days, mindful of Dawson’s mantra. She tried to leave a barely noticeable trail. A short climb and she reached the clearing—the perfect size that let her feel part of the beauty and quiet without intruding. The gentle flow of a stream winding through the ravine welcomed her as she dropped onto the log and set her backpack to the side.
No need to put on a cheerful face here, have an answer, or make decisions. It was just her and the mountain. Her parents had each other. Lin had Beau. Mags had her work. She closed her eyes against the stab in her chest. Which left just her. Even as she’d wrestled with her mother’s actions and how to face her again, she’d always thought she and Dad would pick up where they left off. But now…
Elbows on her knees, she rested her forehead against clasped hands. If this were Dawson’s problem, he’d be talking to God by now, having a good old chat. Did God ever talk to him? A shiver raised bumps on her arms.
She lifted her gaze to the distant jagged peaks. How did she respond to Dad’s email? Oh, it’s okay. No problem. It’s easier to be mad at both of you. She stood and stomped back and forth. “No, really. I didn’t mind finding out something like that through email. It kept me from freaking out at you.” Sarcasm swirled up into the trees. “Lindy and Mags have tried hard to get through on the phone. Unlike you or Mom.” Not that she wanted to talk to either of them, but still.
She might be thirty, but she felt more like ten, wanting to throw herself on the ground for a full-blown tantrum followed by a good cry. But that would change nothing. Shoulders drooping, her pace slowed. Decision-making was her thing. Having no clue what to do next
was paralyzing. She slumped onto the log. She was so tired—of raging emotions, unanswered questions. And especially of navigating life on her own.
The rustle of leaves behind her made her turn. Dawson was coming up the hill. The pain in her heart eased. At least for right now she wasn’t alone.
He raised a hand as he neared, eyebrows lifted. “Okay if I join you? If not, I’ll head back.”
If it were anyone else, she’d say no. She nodded, not surprised he’d tracked her down. A moment later he settled on the log. In the silence, tears crept toward the surface. No crying! Not in front of Dawson.
A moment later his arm came around her shoulders. She rested her head against him and let the tears fall. A few at first, then the torrent loosed, and she sobbed as he wrapped her in a warm hug.
What seemed like hours later, she mopped her face with the edge of her camp shirt and sat up. He dropped his arm and slid a few inches away. Still he didn’t speak.
“How did you know where I was?” she asked.
“Hiker’s intuition.”
She managed a tiny smile.
“The walkies have GPS.”
“Ah. Smart. Unless someone wants to hide.”
“Then said someone should have left their walkie behind.”
“Which would be against policy and get said someone fired.”
Their sideways glances met. “Glad to see you memorized the employee handbook,” he said. He rummaged in his backpack, then held out an orange and a banana. “Ladies first.”
She took the banana. “Thanks.”
As they ate, Dawson named a few of the birds darting over and around them, then pointed at an eagle far overhead. Awe filled his smile, as if it were his first sighting. “Man, that never gets old.” He cocked his head. “There. Do you hear it?”