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Bearly Camping

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by Lynn Katzenmeyer




  Bearly Camping

  Bearly Camping

  Lynn Katzenmeyer

  Contents

  Title Page

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Bonus Chapter- Amber

  Bearly Camping

  Copyright © 2020 Lynn Katzenmeyer

  All rights reserved.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction.

  Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental

  Chapter 1

  The ceiling fan spun in lazy circles above my head. I laid flat on the cool linoleum floor, desperate to find any solace from the oppressive heat in the apartment. It was only April first and the apartment above Deja Brew was hotter than a summer at Camp Warckamee.

  My roommate, Mindy Brewinsky wasn’t bothered by the heat. She flitted around the apartment, her apartment, in a sweater and heavy socks. But Mindy was a baker, anything under ideal bagel baking temperature was probably too cold for her.

  I couldn’t complain about the heat or ask to open a window. It was her apartment; I was a guest here. Not even a guest, guests were invited. I was a leech. A mooch. A jobless couch surfing loser whose boyfriend dumped her the day after she was laid off. If I didn’t find something and soon, I’d have to move back int with the professors Barre and that could not happen. The only thing worse than oppressive heat in April was the oppressive disappointment of two Classics professors taking in their wholly un-academic adult daughter.

  “Hey Souli, can you cover for me this afternoon?” Mindy stood in front of her bathroom mirror putting on a pair of earrings shaped like drops of water, “I have a card tournament that might run late.”

  “Yeah, sure, of course,” I said. I would have agreed to anything she asked of me, my desperation to do something, anything helpful, was reaching new levels of pain. Mindy had taken me in almost a week ago when I showed up at Deja Brew with only my luggage and a tear-stained face and I had nothing to offer her for her kindness.

  “Great,” Mindy said, she pulled her mess of brown curls into an even messier bun on top of her head, “I’ll tell ma and she’ll show you the ropes. She’ll make the drinks as long as you can handle the register.”

  “Six-year retail veteran,” I reminded her, “I got you covered.”

  Mindy winced, “Sorry about the store. I’m sure another one will open in its place.”

  It wasn’t terribly likely a new store would come to Guardinnea. Small town malls like the one I used to work at didn’t easily replace their capstone department stores when they went out of business.

  “It’s ok, kick some ass at your tournament.”

  Mindy grinned, “Will do! If you need me I’ll be right down the street.” She grabbed her backpack and raced out of the apartment. Mindy was born and raised in Guardinnea, like most of the small Minnesota town.

  I was one of the rare transplants to Guardinnea. I moved to the odd town just after college, when my then-boyfriend, Sig, got a job at the mill. He always said after a year, we’d move to an area with better job opportunities for me, but that was a lie. It was all a lie. Every job I applied to in town was magically not hiring when I called to confirm my application. It was like there was a massive conspiracy against Souli Barre. But with only one car between the two of us, I couldn’t exactly travel to a different city to interview. And I couldn’t get a car without a job. And now after the breakup, I had even fewer transportation options. All this was just a painful reminder that the inevitable return to the Oikos Barre, or whatever ancient language they wanted to use now.

  Stop thinking about Sig, Soules. I had to keep reminding myself to focus on anything but Sig. Being jobless and desperate meant I spent way too much energy trying not to think about Sig. With nothing but time on my hands, I had nowhere to put my energy besides reliving the same six words over and over again.

  I don’t want to marry you. He’d said it so simply, but the words had cut like a knife. I didn’t consider marriage to be the ultimate goal in a relationship. In fact, I couldn’t care less about the white dress and flowers. It was that he said ‘you.’ He wasn’t opposed to marriage, he was opposed to marriage with me.

  Ugh, maybe Deja Mindy’s mom and owner of Deja Brew, would be willing to let me start Mindy’s shift early. I got off the floor, showered and dressed in my I’m here to serve best.

  Deja Brew was the coffee, tea, and baked good hotspot in Guardinnea. Before the breakup, Sig and I would have weekly coffee dates with the mill foreman and his wife. Networking Sig called it, but it didn’t really feel like networking. The first several dates felt like I was being interviewed.

  Over time, I grew to adore Clara and the fact the break up meant we couldn’t be friends anymore gutted me. Stop thinking about it, Souli. I had to stop thinking about the break up in terms of things I lost. I didn’t lose the Johnsons as friends, I stood up for myself and they still had to work with the man.

  “Souli!” Deja beamed at me when I entered the coffee shop from the back stairs, “Here, drink this. Confidence Cocoa it’s like my Confidence Coffee, but won’t keep you up at night.”

  I accepted the mug of hot cocoa, despite being already overheated. Manners mattered and all that. Plus, Deja’s brews were legendary. When she said her Chill Out Chai would calm you down, she wasn’t kidding. I was a big fan of the Like Me A’Latte and Smile Like Summer Spinach Smoothie.

  As promised, when the warm beverage slid down my throat, any jitters I had about working the counter evaporated. Mindy was right, Deja would teach me the basics and everything would be just fine.

  “Mindy said you’d be helping out today, let me show you the basics before the after-work rush,” Deja started walking toward the point of sale before I could answer.

  Well, at least I wouldn’t have to ask if I could start early. There were levels of desperation I wasn’t prepared to admit just yet.

  “Put me in, coach,” I said.

  Deja showed me the basics of working behind the counter and disappeared behind the counter where she custom made each beverage that left the shop. Everyone in town said it was magic, and I had to agree. It was just unnatural how delicious her beverages were.

  The afternoon passed swiftly. Customers came in, I took their money, Deja made their brews, and they left. In all my years in Guardinnea, I’d never seen so many hot guys. I’d been so wrapped up in Si-he who shall not be named. I hadn’t even noticed the other eye candy.

  The bell above the door chimed and Deja gave me a wink, “You got this one. I’ll be in the back. Take another sip of that Confidence Cocoa.”

  I rolled my eyes but was thirsty, after another sip from my mug before I turned to the customer. He looked like every other man in Guardinnea who worked at the mill. Tall, broad, a little bit of a beer gut, but not distracting. He looked me up and down with interest I hadn’t seen in years.

  “Welcome to Deja Brew, what can we concoct for you t
oday?” I asked. Bright, cheerful, not too shabby, Barre. My inner pep talk seemed to be working on the customer, he returned my bright grin with one of his own.

  His bright white teeth belonged in a toothpaste ad, not a small-town Minnesota coffee house. He stalked toward the counter like a man on a mission or a lion on the prowl.

  Note to self: stop watching wildlife documentaries before bed.

  “Haven’t seen you around these parts,” he said, giving me another slow up and down. Sizing me up. I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to find me lacking or not.

  “I’ve lived here for a few years now,” I told him. Come on, Souli, get it together. He’s kinda cute, in a GQ workman’s collection kind of way, “What would you like? We have coffee, tea, smoothies. Mindy baked the pastries and bagels fresh this morning-”

  Oh lord, I sound like a menu reader. This is why Sig didn’t want to marry me. I shook my head. No thought of Sig. No thoughts of flirting. I needed to focus on getting my life on track, starting with this stupid coffee order.

  “What did you make this morning?” the guy asked. He leaned forward on the counter. His face was so close to mine our noses almost touched. Then he abruptly stood and took a step back.

  Do I smell? With him standing right there, I couldn’t check my breath, but with the speed that he went from interested to apathetic, it had to be something.

  “I didn’t realize you were Sig’s Souli,” he said, “I’ll have a black coffee to-go.”

  “Huh?” Talk about a 180. Even when we were together I never considered myself Sig’s Souli. I was just Souli.

  “Black coffee,” he repeated, then seeing the confusion written all over my face he added, “Medium, sorry forgot the size. Tell Sig that Doug says, ‘hey.’”

  He handed me a five and accepted the to-go cup from Deja and left the coffee house before I could even ring up his change.

  “Men in this town are so weird,” I muttered.

  “Sing it girl,” Deja hollered from behind me.

  Mid-afternoon a familiar face walked up to the counter, “Souli Barre what on earth are you doing’ behind that counter?”

  Clara’s bright green eyes twinkled with amusement when she saw me. Her grey hair was carefully tied into an elegant side-braid that draped over her mauve peasant blouse. Clara was very proud that her teenage closet was making a fashion comeback. She was even prouder that after three kids and fifty years, the clothes still fit.

  ​“Hi Clara,” I replied, “I’m helping out while Mindy’s playing cards. Would you like the usual?”

  ​“Three of them please,” she said.

  ​“Three?” I asked. My mind raced with the possibility that Sig continued our weekly coffee tradition with the Johnsons without me. I didn’t want to see him. It was still too soon after the breakup. One look into his dark brown eyes and I’d cave for sure.

  ​“Yes, wouldn’t you know it, I had a surprise visitor today,” she grinned, “Oh there she is now!”

  ​The front door chimed and a tall, lean woman dressed like she stepped right out of an REI catalog walked in, a rumpled accountant-looking man right on her heels.

  ​“Linde, over here, I want you to meet my friend!”

  ​I came out from behind the counter to meet the famous Gerlinde, only daughter of the Johnson family. I’d heard so much about her from Clara. Linde waved and gave her mother a quick hug.

  ​“Who’s this ma?” she asked.

  “I’m Souli,” I said, extending a hand but was embraced in a hug that surprised me, “... I’ve heard so much about you too, Linde. How’s the hubby...what’s his name again?”

  “Arthur,” Linde said with a proud smile letting me out of the embrace before taking a waving in the direction of the rumpled man who’d followed her into the shop. He found a corner booth and was pulling out his laptop while muttering under his breath.

  “He’s a bit cranky today,” Linde explained, “One of his staffers just quit and now he’s in a bit of a lurch.”

  “Oh dear,” Clara said, she turned to me, “Art runs a summer camp.”

  Linde sighed exasperated, “Ma, I told you it’s not a summer camp.”

  “Fine fine,” Clara said, having had this argument before, she wiggled her fingers around her face as she amended, “A Wilderness Adventure Zone.”

  Linde rolled her eyes and turned to me, “Anyway, their secretary slash office manager up and left this morning without warning. Arty wants to head back right away and search the applications to hire someone new to start Monday but, I mean, we’re already here to visit ma.”

  “I can hear you,” Art grumbled from his table.

  Linde smiled at him, “I know, darling. You could join us.” Art grumbled again and turned back to his computer.

  ​I started to ask about the job, but Clara jumped in first. Her emerald eyes flared with mischief.

  “You know, Souli used to work at a summer camp.”

  “Not a summer camp-” Art and Linde said at the same time.

  “Tell me again, hun- what did you do there?” Clara asked me, ignoring them.

  “Um...” I suddenly felt Linde’s eager gaze on me as well as Art’s cautious one, “Lots of things. I taught activities, briefly ran the kitchens, I worked a lot in the office, making sure flights and busses were coordinated, fielded calls from worried parents, mainly though I taught basic wilderness skills to city kids. You know, pitch a tent, build a fire, don’t get eaten by bears in the woods... why?”

  Linde’s face lit up, “You’re perfect.”

  Clara smiled, “And, she’s currently newly single, couch surfing, and jobless aren’t you Soules.”

  “Huh?” I was taken aback by the casual way she mentioned my biggest stress.

  “Linds,” Art said, he was no longer at his corner table. He stood right next to his wife, voice so low I could feel the vibrations, “Can I speak to you outside?”

  Linde winked at me and leaned down as she passed, “The camp has dental.”

  Art grumbled and the two walked outside. From the window, Clara and I could see the two talking animatedly, supposedly about me.

  “Can you make out what they’re saying?” I asked Clara, who had professed herself to be an excellent lip reader during one of our weekly meetings.

  “I can,” she said and then she smirked at me, “But it would take all the fun out of this if I told you.”

  “Who’s to say I even want the job, huh?” I asked, hearing the lie in my own voice. I loved working at Camp Warckamee every summer throughout college. It was hard though, after I began dating Sig to be away from him for so long. Absence does not always make the heart grow fonder. And his letters were pitiful. Then again, Sig and I weren’t together anymore. This could be the perfect opportunity to get out of my Guardinnea rut and find happy Souli again.

  As if reading my thoughts, Clara said, “You want the job. Just admit you’re sick of Guardinnea and miss the great outdoors.”

  Before I could come up with an answer Linde was back and had her arms wrapped around my shoulders, “You’re hired!”

  I looked over at Art who was whispering something to Clara.

  “You’ll come back with us tomorrow and we’ll get you started on Monday,” Linde said, “Oh, this is going to be so great. Do you have...” Linde started listing off a bunch of clothing items and other necessities. Most of which, I luckily had from my previous summers. I would need to bring a few more articles of warm clothing and bedding for the inevitable end-of-spring blizzard.

  After Clara and her cohort left, Deja sent me away to pack up my things. By the time Mindy was done with her card tournament, I was all packed to my journey north.

  Chapter 2

  I said goodbye to Guardinnea, goodbye to my miserable retail job, and goodbye to Sig. I was ready to say hello to the great outdoors, hello to a new job, and hello to the Wilderness Adventure Zone.

  Linde and Art picked me up from Deja Brew the next morning. Mindy and Deja loaded me up with h
appy bagels and confidence coffee for the drive.

  Art was as eager to get out of town as I was.

  The first hour, Linde drove while Art sat in the back with me going over my employment paperwork. Linde interjected her thoughts as Art and I went over the basics of the job requirements and benefits package, not much more a year than I was making at the mall, but room and board were covered as well as an insurance plan. They assured me I would have time off for my brother’s college graduation as well as one day off a week, again better than I had at the mall. I filled out the boring tax forms and a very detailed Non-Disclosure agreement.

  “Exclusive clientele?” I asked, holding up the ten page document.

  Art nodded gravely, “Very.”

  I signed it with a dramatic flourish, “Their secrets are safe with me.”

  Art’s tense shoulders sagged ever so slightly as he relaxed, accepting the massive NDA from me. With much less stress, my new boss handed over the rest of the onboarding paperwork.

  We stopped for lunch and Art moved to the front seat next to his wife. I sat in the back of their SUV and by the end the next hour, they’d forgotten I was even in the car. Art and Linde were the kind of couple who had their own language. Filled with inside jokes and shorthand.

  I stared out the window watching the scenery out the window. The leafless trees and dirt fields faded into deep evergreen forests with patches of snow. Despite the visible snow and significantly colder outside temperature, the further north we drove, the more it felt like spring. April in Guardinnea was brown and grey, April up north was green. It felt like coming home.

  By the time Linde told me we were there, the Spring sun was setting.

  “Look at those trees. I’m so excited to be back in the forests,” I couldn’t contain my excitement. Towering pines surrounded the road. Every direction was filled with wilderness. Not a mill or grocery store, or coffee shop in sight.

  “Hope you’re still excited when you get there,” Art muttered. Linde smacked his arm and gave him a look. She turned back to me and smiled.

 

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