After the Rain

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After the Rain Page 13

by Bruce, Brandy


  I blinked at Paige’s pensive tone and her gaze off toward the campsite.

  She cleared her throat a second time. “What if his feelings for you changed? I mean, look how he is with you. Affectionate and teasing and he jumps on board with whatever you want to do.”

  I smiled. “That’s who he is, Paige. He’s been that way since the very first moment I met Jason. We’re not romantic. His joking and teasing could drive Lily crazy sometimes. But we all were that way with each other—affectionate and real. I could call anyone in that group, at any hour of the day, and they’d drop whatever to help. That—that is what I miss. But …” My voice caught and my next words came out several notches lower. “I’m glad I had it for a while.”

  “If I could have that with just one person…” Paige stopped and looked down at the purple flowers. “I think it would be enough. Safety and security and trust. I’ve been thinking a lot about Milo today. When we get back, I think it’s time for us to talk. He’s either interested or he’s not.”

  “And if he is?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. But I’d like to know where he stands.” We started walking again, picking up our pace. Our group was milling around Jason and Ben. The aroma of cooked chicken inundated my senses and suddenly I was starving.

  Jason had a huge smile on his face. “Ready to eat?”

  “More than.”

  Ben waved us all closer. “Jason’s going to help with the assembly line, guys. We’ve got grilled chicken with peppers, baked potatoes, and baked beans. And we’ve got lemonade as well.” I grabbed a plate and got in line behind Paige. Ben dished out the chicken and peppers, and Jason divvied out the baked potatoes and beans. There were butter and sour cream packets for the potatoes. After hours on the river and the short hike up to the clearing, nothing had ever tasted so good as that grilled chicken. We sat in a circle around the bonfire, eating—fast at first and then slowing down as our bellies filled. I savored the red peppers and juicy chicken, then ate every scrap of my baked potato. The lemonade was tart and sweet and I gulped it down.

  Jason sat next to me, devouring his plate of food. Even around six o’clock, the sun shone bright but a bit lower. I was so tired that I looked forward to nightfall. After dinner, Ben passed out gourmet cookies and told us they were made locally at a bakery in Breckenridge. Someone asked Ben about wild animals and my ears perked up.

  “Of course, we’re in the mountains, so there are animals around. But we make a lot of noise out here and we’re a large group. We’re intimidating to them, just like they are to us. The closer you are to the campsite, the safer you’ll be. And we’ll package everything up—food wise—tight and sealed, to avoid tempting any bears.”

  I didn’t like the sound of bears. Or any type of wild animal. I glanced over at our tent, which looked small and flimsy against, say, a mountain lion.

  Paige swallowed a bite of her oatmeal cookie. “We’ll be fine, Debra,” she said, brushing off my rising concern. After dessert, we helped Ben clean up and get everything put away.

  “You know what this reminds me of?” Jason asked, once we were sitting back around the fire. He didn’t wait for my answer. “Summers at the lake house.”

  “Hmm.” That was the only response I could think of. I didn’t want reminders of Addison’s parents’ lake house, the place where our group had gathered year after year. Skiing and fishing, s’mores by the fire pit, playing games and eating dinner on the deck. I wondered whether everyone had gone back without me, but I didn’t ask. If the answer was yes, which I was sure it would be, it would hurt too much. My attention diverted to Kyle and Chloe and Rita and Greg. They’d brought out a bunch of mini bottles of liquor.

  “Do you think Ben’s okay with them drinking?” I asked Jason in a low voice. He nodded.

  “Yeah, he told me alcohol is allowed as long as no one brings glass bottles. He also told me he doesn’t like it when the guests get sloshed and he has to babysit.”

  I bit my lip. “I’m sure it won’t get to that.”

  Jason glanced at our extended crew. “Stranger things have happened. I’m not worried, though.” Paige joined us then. She’d donned a sweatshirt and pants, and I was thinking of doing the same. August or not, as the sun began to set, the temperature lowered significantly at our high elevation. I left Jason and Paige and climbed into our tent, digging through my backpack and finding my warm hoodie and yoga pants and extra socks. Once I changed, I went back out to the fire. The sun hung low, disappearing behind the mountains and casting a yellow glow to the coming darkness. The fire glowed orange, sparking and popping. Ben came out of his tent at the same time, having changed as well. I walked over to join him.

  “Hey.” His eyes brightened. “Are you having a good time?”

  “Of course,” I said, waving at the sight of our gorgeous sunset, the blazing bonfire, and the overall splendor of being under a Colorado evening sky. “This is perfect, Ben. I want to do it all again.”

  He smiled, his shoulders dropping a bit as he tugged on his hoodie and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, the summer season won’t last too much longer. That’s part of the reason I really wanted you to come. River Run doesn’t usually do rafting past early September.”

  A burst of loud laughter came from Chloe and Rita, and Ben’s eyes darted to where they’d congregated on the other side of the bonfire.

  When his gaze turned back to me, I raised one eyebrow.

  “It’s cool,” he told me. “I’ve just had a couple of bad experiences where the guests drank way too much. I like to have a good time as much as anyone, but it’s not so fun when people start puking or fighting or getting obnoxious.” He scuffed his shoe into the dirt. “C’mon, let’s go sit by the fire. I’ve got instant cider or cocoa. Either sound good?”

  “Cider sounds perfect,” I told him. I went with him to the stash of supplies and we filled mugs with powder; then Ben set a pot of water over the fire to boil. I sat back down next to Jason and scooted closer to him as a brisk breeze whipped through my hair. Ben asked Kyle and Chloe and the others whether they’d like to roast marshmallows. Who wouldn’t want to roast marshmallows? We all wanted to. We settled in around the fire. I could hear singing coming from across the clearing over at Emmie’s group.

  “Should we sing ‘Kumbaya’?” Greg asked with a snort.

  Ben smiled good-naturedly. “We don’t have to, but—” He reached behind his chair and pulled out a small bongo drum. He thrummed his hands across, the beat carrying with the breeze. The sun had disappeared, but I could see Ben in the glow of the fire, sitting next to Paige. His dark hair was loose, tucked behind his ears. He wore a navy hoodie and black pants. There was at least two days’ growth of hair on his chin and cheeks and he looked ruggedly handsome in the firelight.

  “Any requests?” he asked, continuing to stir the silence with sound.

  “‘I Can’t Help Falling in Love,’” Rita called out with a giggle, snuggling up to Greg. Ben nodded. I waited in anticipation. I noticed Chloe hold out a mug and Kyle empty another mini bottle of alcohol into it.

  “You should sing with him,” Jason whispered. I grimaced and barely shook my head, flustered by the very idea. Then Ben started to sing, and we all went still, captured by that irresistible voice singing the song made famous by Elvis Presley.

  When Ben finished, we all clapped. Then Chloe fell over in her chair and the foursome fell into high-pitched laughter. Kyle stood up and pulled Chloe up with him. “I think this one needs some sleep. We’re going to retire to our tent,” he said with a chuckle. Ben nodded. I thought I sensed relief flash across his eyes. The two of them made their way to their tent, stumbling every now and then.

  “Another song!” Rita said, and I was very inclined to agree. Ben and I made eye contact and I could see a blinking question in his eyes.

  Good grief, he wanted me to sing. I shook my head slightly, and he just nodded and looked back down at the bongo.

  I exhaled, relieved
—and something else. I couldn’t quite pinpoint it.

  Something about the way he respected my feelings without further ado.

  Something about the way we’d just had a conversation with our eyes.

  And something about the way I wished I could download Ben singing “I Can’t Help Falling in Love” ... something about all those things made me anxious and uncomfortable.

  I drank the rest of my cider, fidgeting in my chair, wanting to move, go to my tent—something. I didn’t want to be near Ben Price. I didn’t want to feel anything for him.

  Then he started to sing again, his version of a current pop song. Jason leaned in close to my ear.

  “He’s good, Deb.”

  Yeah, yeah. I know.

  “Can you get him on the radio?” Jason whispered. The million-dollar question. Of course Jason would be audacious enough to ask it. I elbowed him and he shrank back just a bit.

  “I think he likes you,” he whispered again. I looked at him, my eyes narrowed. Jason didn’t shrink back at that.

  “I’m just saying.”

  I faced forward again, then felt Jason lean close again.

  “It’s okay to move on, Deb. To be open.” His voice was low, right in my ear.

  My eyes, staring at the fire, began to burn.

  Move on? Be open?

  I wanted to cry.

  Jason’s arm went around me, his hand squeezing my shoulder.

  The music stopped and I looked up. Ben’s eyes were on me, his face taut in a frown. Jason moved over quickly.

  “Ben, seriously, you have a good voice,” Rita exclaimed. “You should do something with that. Not that you’re not a good guide ...”

  Ben laughed. “Thanks, Rita. Well, actually, I’m only a guide this weekend. I’m a worship pastor.”

  “What’s that?” Greg asked.

  “I lead music at a church,” Ben said simply.

  “Oh, you’re religious,” Greg said, obvious disdain in his voice. Ben, as usual, seemed unaffected, cool, composed.

  “I am, yeah.”

  “He’s amazing at what he does,” I heard myself speak up defensively.

  Ben’s gaze came back to me, soft surprise covering his face.

  “Thanks, Deb.” He blinked and set the bongo aside. “I’m going to make sure all our supplies are secure. If anyone wants anything, let me know.” He jumped up.

  Paige and Jason both turned their attention to me.

  “What?” I said, exasperation spilling over at both of their amused expressions.

  “Go talk to him,” Paige said in a fast whisper. I looked at Jason.

  He studied me. “You know I’m here. And I’ll be here. If you feel something for Ben, go talk to him. What can it hurt?”

  I’d been taking shallow breaths and I exhaled sharply at that comment. “It could hurt me. I don’t want that again. You have to know that, Jase.” My tone changed from pleading to anger. Without warning, moisture filled my eyes. “How can you want me to be hurt again?”

  Jason frowned. “I don’t want that. You know I don’t. I want you to be happy. And that will take risk, eventually.”

  I pushed myself out of my chair and marched to my tent, then crawled inside and sat cross-legged, my breath ragged. After a few moments, I lay flat on top of my sleeping bag, trying to take measured breaths.

  Do I like Ben that way?

  I reminded myself that of all the nice things Ben had done for me, never had the line crossed into romantic.

  Did I want it to?

  Eight months ago I was hoping Luke Anderson would propose to me. I wanted nothing more than to spend my life with him.

  No, I don’t want anything from anyone.

  I crossed my arms over my face. The flap to our tent opened. Paige unzipped it all the way and crawled in.

  “Deb,” she whispered. I didn’t answer.

  “Don’t even act like you’re asleep,” she said, her voice normal and blunt.

  “Fine.” I opened my eyes and moved my arms.

  “Jason’s worried about you,” she said.

  I blew my hair out of my face. “He’s probably been worried about me since last Christmas, with good reason.”

  Paige sat next to me. We were quiet for several moments; then she finally spoke. “I think Jason is so incredibly cute. And nice. And thoughtful.”

  Huh.

  I sat up immediately. Knees to knees, we looked at each other. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness. “He is,” I replied.

  “And Ben—gosh, Deb. He’s splendid. Can’t you see that?”

  I threw my head back. “I know. But there’s no real reason to think he likes me—”

  A small burst of mirthless laughter came from Paige. “No reason? You’ve got to be kidding. Except that ever since that day at The Egg and I, he’s been singling you out. Asking you to do stuff. Making time to be alone with you. At least give him a chance, Debra.”

  I leaned over and placed my elbows on my knees and pressed my hands to my cheeks. “He asked me to let him be my friend. That’s what I’m doing. I’m here. We’re friends. I can’t do more, and he hasn’t asked. I can barely be me. I can’t think about being me in another relationship. I can’t think about another relationship ending. I can’t think about who I would be then. I somehow lost everything I wanted; I have to figure out where that leaves me.” My voice rose, and Paige didn’t respond.

  After several tense moments of silence, Paige’s shoulders slumped. “Maybe I’m trying to project where I am on where you are.” She reached over and squeezed my forearm. “I’m sorry for that. I’m ready for a relationship. I’m ready to dive into something new and see what happens. But ... that’s me. You’ve got these guys in your life—like Jason and Ben—who want to be around you and care about you. I can’t even get Milo to ask me on a real date. You’ve been in love and come close to happily ever after and it fell apart. I don’t know what that feels like. But I’m very sorry you went through it. It’s totally fair to think you’re not ready for another relationship. Whatever happens with you and Ben is between you guys.”

  My defensiveness eased.

  “But, Debra,” Paige added, “I’ve known Ben awhile now. Long enough to know that he’s not running a charity based on helping brokenhearted single girls.”

  I almost smiled at that.

  “He’s got his reasons for reaching out to you, sure. But he’s different with you. That’s all I’m saying. And I doubt he’s ever brought another girl up here camping. Do what you want with that—but his heart matters too.”

  My neck stiffened.

  Ben’s heart matters too.

  After a moment, I just nodded. “You’re right.”

  “Let’s go roast more marshmallows. Chloe and Kyle started making out—um, hello, we’re all sitting right there—and Jason quipped that they should get a tent, and then they did.” Even in the dark of the tent, I could see the whites of Paige’s very large eyes in an Eek! That’s awkward! look. I chuckled.

  “I’m up for more marshmallows.” I followed Paige back to our now low-burning fire. Jason glanced up at me, worry all over his face. I shook my head and sat next to him.

  “Are you okay?” he asked me in a whisper.

  “Yes. No. Sometimes.” It was the best I could manage. Jason pulled me into a side hug.

  “Where’s Ben?” Paige asked.

  “He went over to touch base with Emmie about tomorrow. He should be back soon.”

  Paige nodded, digging through the bag of marshmallows. She dragged her chair a bit closer to the embers. Once she was settled, a toasty, bubbly marshmallow sticking to her fingers, she looked back at me and Jase. “What do you think of Colorado, Jason?”

  “Toss me that bag of marshmallows,” he told her. Paige grinned and threw the bag at him. He popped a regular one into his mouth. “I think it’s incredible. I went to California once for a cousin’s wedding and saw the Sierra mountain range. But I’ve never been out here before. These Rocky Mountains and
rivers are awesome. I can see why my girl Debra loves it so much.”

  I smiled. “You could give up the humidity and move out here,” I teased. He looked shocked.

  “The humidity is one thing—the food is another.”

  I nodded in not-quite-mock sadness. “True. I’ll take Colorado’s lack of humidity and the lack of bugs, but I do miss the food in Texas.”

  In the corner of my eye, I could see a shadowy figure coming closer through the clearing, a flashlight beaming this way and that. Ben clicked off the flashlight as he joined us at the fire. He grabbed a chair and pulled it next to Paige.

  “Food is Jason’s life. Music is Ben’s.” Paige twisted her mouth for a moment. “What’s mine?”

  “Hippie clothes?” Ben guessed, and I laughed, then choked, trying to stop quickly. Paige scowled at us but ended up smiling.

  “No,” she responded. “I mean, I like clothes. But they’re not my life.”

  “What was your major in college?” Jason asked. Paige crossed her arms as the night air got even chillier.

  “English literature.”

  No one said anything.

  “Hey, I like literature,” Paige protested.

  “What did you want to do with it? Did you hope to be a teacher?” Jason asked.

  She shook her head. “Not really. I just liked learning about all that stuff.”

  “I get that,” Jason said, stretching out in his tiny chair. “I majored in computer science and worked as a programmer for a while. And then I got sick of it. I felt like I wasn’t living, just boring myself to death. I’d always loved food. My grandmother owned a big Mexican restaurant down by the border for years. I could live off her enchiladas. Not kidding. And my tía Marina—my aunt, I mean—has a small café where she sells breakfast tacos and tamales and that sort of thing. So I started cooking, experimenting. I signed up for a night cooking class. And it all clicked. I wanted to work with food.”

  “Do you want to be a chef?” Ben asked.

  Jase shrugged. “Maybe. I’m also interested in having my own food truck. Drive around Houston at lunchtime and feed hungry people, you know?”

 

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