If the Summer Lasted Forever

by Shari L. Tapscott

  Caleb, who’s just as tired and crabby as we are, loses wind after the first fifteen minutes.

  “Are we near the top?” he asks.

  “No,” Landon answers.

  “When will we reach the top?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Can I wait in the Jeep?”

  “No,” Landon and I say together.

  He pouts and whines until Landon reminds him it’s his fault we’re out here in the first place. After that, he’s pretty quiet.

  George trots back and forth, staying close. Every few minutes, we look at our phones.

  Pass a boulder…no signal.

  Pass a prickly weed growing in the middle of the road…no signal.

  Round a bend…no signal.

  We stop for water often, and we eat another bar at midday. It wouldn’t really be that bad of a hike if we’d just gotten some sleep last night. But in this condition, it might as well be Everest.

  Finally, near the top, Landon lets out a happy groan. “Two bars,” he says triumphantly as he raises his phone into the air.

  Then he stumbles toward a boulder at the side of the trail, sits down with another groan, and dials his dad. Two seconds later, he says, “We found him.”

  The message is relayed, and I can hear the happy cry on the other end.

  “But we’re in the canyon below Prospector’s Demise, and we have a flat.” Landon pauses. “No, the spare is flat too.”

  He nods a few times, and then he hangs up.

  “Well?” I ask.

  “They’re coming for us.”

  I sit on the rock beside him and let my head fall on his shoulder. Caleb lies on the ground, which is a mistake because George decides he must investigate. Caleb yelps as the dog hangs his jowly face over Caleb’s eyes. Landon laughs and wraps his arm around my back, leaning on me as much as I’m leaning on him. We stay like this, exhausted, for several minutes before we begin the trek back to the Jeep.

  Luckily, it’s a lot easier to go down the trail than up.

  Caleb has gotten his second wind, and he hurries on ahead of us, racing George to the bottom.

  “We haven’t really talked about me leaving,” Landon says quietly, his eyes on the trail.

  I glance at him. “I’m not sure what there is to say.”

  I don’t want to talk about it—I don’t even want to think about it. I want to pretend it’s not happening and live in the moment.

  “You have another year of school,” he says.

  I nod.

  “And I want to take a year to continue traveling with my family. But next year, we could pick a college. Go together.”

  “I can’t.” I keep my eyes on Caleb and George.

  “Why?”

  “You know why. They need me here. How will they run the campground without me?” Again, I’m reminded of what I saw in the living room this morning, and for a moment, I think Mom can just go ahead and fend for herself. But that’s not right either.

  Landon sets his hand on my arm, pulling me to a stop. “They could hire someone to come in and help.”

  “No one knows this place like I do,” I argue. “And this was my parent’s dream when my dad was alive—I’m not going to abandon it.”

  “But what’s your dream, Lacey? What do you want out of life?”

  I refuse to answer because I don’t know. My future’s always held the same thing—Gray Jay, the campground, our mountains. Even thinking of something else feels like betraying my family. Especially my dad.

  Landon searches my face, growing frustrated. “You told me when we first met that you’ve never seen the beach—that more than anything, you want to go to the ocean.”

  “I do,” I say. “You just…don’t understand. You can’t understand. Your family travels everywhere, sees everything, but you have no roots. You abandoned your roots. Obviously, they don’t mean as much to you as they do to me.”

  We shouldn’t be having this discussion right now. We’re tired, we’re hungry, and the last twenty-four hours have been filled with nothing but worry and stress.

  But we are discussing it, and I don’t know how to get off this train before we crash.

  “So, you’re never going to go anywhere or do anything? You’re just going to stay here, stagnant, even though it’s not what you want?”

  He doesn’t necessarily say it harshly, but the words still sting.

  “I don’t know, all right?” I say, whirling toward him. “But for now, yes, I’m here. For the foreseeable future, yes, I’m here. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  He studies me for several moments, and then he deflates.

  “This was a mistake,” I finally mutter under my breath.

  I don’t really mean it—but I’m tired and on-edge. And really, really mad. The problem is, I don’t know who I’m mad at. I’m taking it out on Landon, but he’s not the problem. I’d like to say Mom and Uncle Mark are the problem, but that’s not quite right either.

  Perhaps I’m mad at myself, at the fact that Landon’s right. I’m never going to go anywhere or do anything. For the rest of my life, I’m going to live in the campground office, watching happy families come and then leave for their next adventure. And that thought is really, truly depressing.

  But I don’t know how to fix it.

  “Maybe it was,” he says softly, and I stiffen.

  He wasn’t supposed to agree.

  So now what?

  I can’t take it back, tell him I’m sorry for the hasty, heated words—not when he feels that way.

  We finally reach the Jeep and Caleb crawls in the backseat and promptly falls asleep. Landon and I sit side by side on a rock ledge near the road. Neither of us speaks as we wait for someone to come rescue us.

  Eventually, the Calvary comes. Lots of Calvary.

  We’re surrounded by over a dozen happy, happy people. Landon’s mom hugs me, thanking me for helping find her son. Caleb wakes up, and she cries grateful tears while she scolds him.

  Uncle Mark stays to fix the Jeep, and I catch a ride back to the campground with Paige’s brother. I glance at Landon before I slip into the passenger seat of Trenton’s truck. He turns to me and jabs his hands in his pockets. He looks as miserable as I feel. Still, neither of us speaks.

  After a moment, I get in the truck and close the door.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  You’d think after all that, I’d sleep like the dead for the next several days. I don’t.

  It’s three in the morning, and I’m staring at the ceiling, wondering how things went from good to awful so quickly. And, of course, I’m replaying everything in my head, making different choices.

  But it makes no difference now.

  There’s no going back. Landon’s family leaves tomorrow. I haven’t seen him since the day we found Caleb in the canyon.

  It’s as I’m lying here, so desperately wishing I could take back what I said to Landon, that my phone chimes with a text.

  Are you awake?

  My chest constricts, and I stare at the words on the screen…wondering if I should even answer.

  Yes.

  Meet me at the gazebo in five minutes.

  Five minutes doesn’t give me a whole lot of time. I toss back the covers and slide my feet into the flip-flops by the side of the bed. Then I throw on a long cardigan over my shorts and sleep shirt and hurry outside.

  Landon’s already waiting for me. It’s probably where he was when he sent the text.

  My thin cotton outfit isn’t suited for the cold night air, and I hug myself to keep warm.

  “Don’t say anything,” he says, stepping forward. “Just let me talk.”

  I purse my lips, not sure what to expect.

  He sets his warm hands on my upper arms, but he doesn’t pull me any closer. “I don’t regret coming here or meeting you. It wasn’t a mistake. You weren’t a mistake.”

  Then his hands move from my arms to my cheeks, and he presses his lips to mine. It’s a middle
of the night kiss—firm, desperate, far too short.

  “Take care of yourself, Lacey.”

  And then he’s gone. I watch him walk away, my mouth parted, hand reaching out to stop him, but what magic words can I say to change the circumstances?

  Paige said you have to date at least three guys before you find your forever. Maybe she’s right.

  Or maybe Landon was my forever, and it was just our timing that was all wrong.

  Either way, Landon’s gone.

  Paige pokes her head in my bedroom and frowns. “Hey.”

  I roll her way. “Hi.”

  “You’re still in bed.”

  “I met Landon last night at three.”

  Her eyebrows rise, and a smirk brightens her face. “Do tell.”

  I roll my eyes. “He just wanted to say goodbye.”

  She sits next to me, frowning. “That’s it?”

  I nod.

  “So, you guys are…over? Just like that?”

  “I guess so.”

  My friend searches my face, looking for signs of doubt. “They’re just packing up the last of their things,” she says slowly, her tone more hesitant than I’m used to. “If you hurry, you could probably give him a proper goodbye. Maybe one where you don’t end this so abruptly?”

  I stare at her, wanting to pull the sheets over my head.

  But I don’t.

  “Do you think I should?” I finally ask.

  “I think if you’re going to do it, you need to hurry.”

  And that’s all it takes. I’m up, scurrying around my bedroom, trying to find clothes. I don’t even care if they’re clean as long as they’re not pajamas.

  “Leave it!” Paige coaxes when I pick up a brush to tackle my hair. “You don’t have time. Just go.”

  I stare at my reflection in all its bedhead glory, and then I realize she’s right. I grab an elastic band and twist my hair up as I run out the door.

  I jog down the campground road, praying they’re still here. People call greetings, asking why I’m in such a hurry, but I only wave. I round the last corner, out of breath and panting, and then stumble to an abrupt stop.

  The Tillmans and all their bikes, tents, dogs, and kids are gone. The site sits vacant, just as clean as the day they arrived.

  I choke back a sob and resist the urge to sink to the ground.

  Slowly, I walk back to the house. Halfway there, I realize they might have stopped at the office before they left. On wobbling legs, I run for the parking area, silently begging them to be there.

  But the parking lot is empty. I turn toward the road and just catch a glimpse of the Tillman’s RV as they turn onto the highway, heading away from Gray Jay, onto bigger, better things.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  “Dad says we can have the boat again this Friday,” Paige says, sitting in the chair beside me, eating a stick of licorice. “You want to come?”

  The “we” in that sentence is her and Jarrett. They are honestly, officially, finally together. And with summer drawing to a close, Tanner’s gone—and good riddance. Thomas’s family left yesterday too. I’m not sure if Gia ever won him back or not.

  I can’t say that I really care.

  “I don’t think so,” I tell her.

  She narrows her eyes. “I know you’re still all heartbroken, but you can’t keep moping around all the time.”

  Technically, I can.

  “Come on. Trenton’s coming too.”

  “So?”

  She gives me an exasperated look. “Trenton’s fun. You like him.”

  “Are you really trying to set me up with your brother?”

  Paige makes a horrified face. “Ew—no. I just want you to leave the campground.”

  “I’m going to have to pass.”

  She points at me as she walks toward the door. “You have one more week to walk around like a zombie, and then I’m staging an intervention.”

  “Goodbye, Paige,” I say, rolling my eyes.

  “Oh.” She pops her head back in the door. “Dad wants to know if your mom would be willing to take us school shopping again this year?”

  Just the thought of my mother makes me clench my teeth.

  “Something up with you and your mom?” Paige asks, noticing my expression.

  “No, we’re fine,” I lie. “I’ll ask her later.”

  “Okay…”

  I look up. “I’m fine. We’re fine. Everything’s fine.”

  She raises an eyebrow.

  I sigh. “Honestly.”

  Without further argument, she slips out the door, informing me she’ll call later. I return to the reservation sheet in front of me and answer the phone when it rings.

  “Hi, hon,” an elderly female voice greets me. “This is Gretchen at Site Twenty-seven. We’ve noticed that Twenty-nine has been empty for several weeks now, and we were hoping we could switch spots. There’s a lot more afternoon shade over there.”

  “Twenty-nine’s not available,” I say rather sharply, and then I soften my tone. “Sorry.”

  I know it’s ridiculous, but I can’t bear to see someone else in it. Not yet. Soon Mom or Mark will figure out I’ve been keeping it vacant, and then they’ll make me an appointment with a therapist. But until then, it’s not going to anyone else.

  ***

  “I’m thinking about hiring someone to help in the office when you go back to school,” Mom says as she flips through a stack of mail.

  I glance at her and take another bite of cold cereal. She knows how I feel about hiring someone.

  “Mark stays too busy, and I’m hoping that I’ll sell more after the art show.”

  Things are going well for her. Mr. Albert commissioned five more pieces yesterday.

  “Okay,” I finally say.

  She sets the mail aside and puts her hands on her hips, turning toward me. “All right. Why are you acting so irritated with me? At first, I thought this moodiness was because Landon left, but it’s been weeks.”

  I pick up my bowl and dump the leftover milk down the sink. “I’m fine.”

  “You aren’t fine. Tell me what’s going on.”

  Slowly, I turn to her. I know I shouldn’t, but I just can’t help myself, so I say, “Is that what we do? Talk about the big, important things in our lives? Because I’m pretty sure we don’t.”

  She catches me by the arm before I walk out the door. “Enough of this. What’s going on with you?”

  “Maybe a better question would be what’s going on with you and Uncle Mark.”

  She rears back like I slapped her and opens her mouth like she’s going to say something. But no words come out.

  I give her several moments to come clean, brace myself for the inevitable excuses. Shaking my head, sick of just about everything, I walk out the door.

  “Wait, Lacey,” she hollers after me.

  I almost don’t turn back, but there’s something off about her voice.

  “You got something in the mail.” She holds out an envelope, but she doesn’t meet my eyes.

  Hesitating, I stand here, wondering if going back now will ruin my dramatic exit. It probably will, but I don’t get mail, and curiosity wins.

  I take the envelope from her and frown when I see it has no return name or address. As I’m studying it, trying to decide if I’m going to open it now or later, Mom softly says, “I’m sorry.”

  From the corner of my eye, I see how she nervously shifts.

  “You weren’t supposed to find out—” she silences me with a hand in the air when I start to snarl. “Because we knew it would hurt you. We didn’t want to tell you if it was something fleeting.”

  “What about Dad?” I demand, lowering my voice.

  Her eyes soften, and she shakes her head. “He’s gone, Lace. He’s been gone for eleven years.”

  “But Mark’s his brother.”

  She gives me a helpless shrug. “These things just happen sometimes.”

  Not to us. To other people—messed up people. W
e’re supposed to be normal. Maybe a little broken, but normal nonetheless.

  Are they going to get married? Am I going to have to live with them both under the same roof? Mark’s around all the time, but it would be different.

  And what if they decide to have more kids? Mom’s only thirty-eight. It’s not impossible. Then my sister or brother would also be my cousin.

  If that’s not dysfunctional, I don’t know what is.

  “I’m sorry we hurt you,” Mom says. She sets her hand on my cheek like she used to do when I was little. “I really am.”

  “I know.” And I mean it. I don’t think she ever meant to cause me turmoil, but it was inevitable. “Now what?”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t know.”

  “Are you guys…together now?”

  Slowly, gauging my reaction, she nods. “I think so.”

  Yuck.

  “Okay,” I say, tapping my palm with the envelope. I start to turn away, and then I look back, sensing this is a good time to test the waters. “What if I wanted to go away to college? Or just leave Gray Jay completely after I graduate?”

  Her face falls. “Because of Mark and me?”

  “No.” A little bit maybe. “Because of me.”

  “You don’t have to stay here, Lacey. I grew up here, loved this campground with all my heart. I knew when your grandparents wanted to sell, I had to have it. Your dad shared my vision for this place. But that doesn’t mean our dream is yours. You need to do what you feel is best for you.”

  “Really?”

  She crosses her arms, cracking a smile. “Well, everything might fall apart when you leave, but we’ll manage.”

  Maybe hiring someone to help in the office will be the first step.

  “And even if you leave for a while, years even, it doesn’t mean you can’t come back to Gray Jay down the road.”

  I think about actually leaving—packing the Jeep and taking off on the road I’ve seen so many people disappear down. Could I do it? Am I brave enough to say goodbye to the only place I’ve ever called home?

  “But you have plenty of time to decide,” she points out. “You have to graduate before I’ll let you go.”