[2015] Just the Essentials

by Shari L. Tapscott

  “It’s under the couch,” I tell my father when he comes jogging into the living room with a broom.

  “Open the door and pick up Schnitzel,” he instructs. “We’ll try to shoo it out.”

  I open the door, pick up my squirming dog, and get out of the way. Dad tilts the couch on its back, revealing the floor underneath. There’s some change, a few dust bunnies, and a pen. But no chipmunk.

  Dad sighs and leans the broom against the wall. I let Schnitzel down. He noses the area and then looks up, confused.

  My chipmunk is an escape artist.

  Dad searches for the rodent for another half-hour before he gives up and starts going through Grandpa’s old tackle box.

  “Are you coming, Mom?” Liv calls as we’re ready to walk out the door.

  She’s been on the phone with Sandy for at least forty-five minutes.

  “No, you guys go on.”

  We leave her and drive to the walking path around the lake. We’re only about ten minutes into our jog when I start to tire.

  All the junk food I’ve been eating has caught up with me. I’m feeling it this morning.

  “This is a great trail.” Ginger’s barely out of breath. “Have you been keeping up with your running?”

  From the look on her face, I can tell she knows I haven’t.

  “Not exactly,” I puff.

  “You better. Jack’s quite the catch. I’m sure there’s some competition there.”

  My thoughts drift to his mystery woman, Eliza. She called him again the other day, wanting him to construct a new raised flower bed—and then again the day after that, hoping he could take a look at her oven.

  Liv runs next to us, as graceful as a gazelle. “Leave her alone, Ginger. Kinsley looks great.”

  I shoot my younger sister a grateful look, but I still pick up my pace. Ginger has a point, and I certainly haven’t been eating well enough to balance out my inactivity.

  There’s a call from behind us, but I’m breathing so hard, I can’t focus on anything but sucking air in my lungs. Then, as if it took her no effort at all, Amber joins us.

  “Kinsley! I thought it was you!” She matches our pace.

  Her cute, petite frame is decked out in hot pink, very short, jogging shorts, and she wears a matching tank top that doesn’t quite cover her toned belly. Her strawberry blond hair is pulled up into a high ponytail, and it swings with every step.

  “I didn’t know you jogged too! We’ll have to go together. I hate running alone.”

  I suck in a gulp of air and plaster a big, bright smile on my face.

  Who’s out of shape? Not me.

  “Amber, these are my sisters—Liv and Ginger.”

  Once I say the name, Ginger recognizes Amber. Her pretty green eyes narrow. “Yes, we’ve met in the office.”

  “That’s right!” Amber exclaims. “You’re the new intern! And Marcus’s fia—” she stops short at the look of death Ginger shoots her.

  But it’s too late; she’s said enough. I stop, gasping for breath.

  “Fiancée?” I gape at my older sister. “Was she going to say fiancée?”

  Ginger gives me a helpless look. “Come on, Kinsley. You can’t just stop.”

  I start walking, but I’m done running.

  “It was nice bumping into you.” Amber looks flushed and worried. “I gotta get my time in. I’ll catch up with ya’ll later.”

  She jogs off, leaving us alone.

  “That’s what you didn’t want to tell me over the phone.” I wipe sweat from my forehead with my arm.

  Ginger’s eyes are worried. “Are you upset with me?”

  I look at her, my heart twisting. “No. I’m not upset.”

  It just stings that Hudson and I came to such a train wreck of an end, and now Ginger is marrying his brother.

  “I’m happy for you.” I try to smile, try to mean it. “Really.”

  Liv looks back and forth, caught between us both. I think she wants to pull us in a big, sisterly group hug, but we’re all sweaty and that would be gross.

  “I’m sorry,” Ginger whispers.

  “Stop that,” I snap. “Don’t be sorry you’re happy. Don’t be sorry Marcus isn’t the jerk Hudson is. I’m happy he’s not.”

  And I do mean that.

  “I was hoping you’ll be my maid of honor, but I just didn’t know how to ask you.”

  Even though we’re icky, I hug her. “Of course I will.”

  “Awww!” Liv sniffs, and then she squeezes us both.

  We finish walking around the lake, and Ginger starts babbling on about wedding dresses and caterers. There’s a tightness in my chest I can’t seem to talk away, but I smile, pretending everything is all right.

  Liv instantly takes to Shannon and Agnes, and the three girls sit and talk with their plates in their laps. Mom and Sandy catch up while Allen and Dad man the grill. That leaves me, Jack, and Ginger clustered together, trying to think of things to talk about.

  “Was Marcus all right with you leaving for the holiday weekend?” I ask Ginger.

  She takes a kitten-sized bite of coleslaw and swallows primly, never quite meeting my eyes. “Didn’t we tell you? Marcus and his parents are here visiting…” She trails off and takes another bite.

  “Hudson.” I point my fork at her. “You can say his name. I’m fine.”

  Ginger studies a grilled slice of pineapple. “I’m supposed to meet with them later at the fireworks.”

  “Mom and Dad, too?”

  “No, I’m sure they…I mean we thought about, maybe, trying to all sit together…”

  Ginger’s never been this hesitant in her life.

  “It’s fine, right, Kinsley?” Jack meets my eyes. “I’m sure we can all get along.”

  I shoot him a grateful look. Even though my family’s arrival has made it impossible for us to go alone, he’s still going to go with me.

  “You don’t have to, Jack.”

  “I want to.” He raises his eyebrows. “It will be fun.”

  We both know from the experience with Hudson at dinner that it will be anything but fun.

  Ginger, however, looks relieved. “I’m so sorry, Kins. This is such a mess.”

  I wave her concern away and take a huge bite of potato salad just so I won’t have to talk about it any more.

  But it only gets more awkward when we reach the fireworks display. Hudson’s parents are already here, looking out of place.

  “How are you, Kinsley?” Dan asks, giving me a warm pat on the shoulder.

  Even though we’re not together, Hudson’s dad is still intimidating.

  “I’m fine. Thank you, sir.”

  It’s strange to see Hudson’s family in camp chairs. It’s just so…wrong. Barb is decked to the nines despite how casual all the other families are, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

  “You’re still more than welcome at our house,” Dan continues. “We just want you to know that.”

  I glance at Hudson, but he’s busy talking to Marcus and Ginger. His arm is slung casually over Amber’s shoulder, and the two of them look more relaxed than I’ve seen them yet.

  “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  Jack and I set our chairs just a little behind the rest. The last thing I want is all their eyes on the back of my neck.

  Leaning toward him so no one will overhear, I say, “Not quite what we had planned, huh?”

  He nods toward Hudson’s family. “How are you doing with all this?”

  I study Jack in the dimming light. His expression is warm and relaxed. He lounges in his chair like he’s lived in it his whole life. In fact, he has. This is his world—camp chairs and cook outs, fishing trips and four-wheel excursions.

  “I’m good.” It surprises me that I mean it.

  Soon, the fireworks begin. I slide my hand down the fabric arm of my chair, letting my fingers drift just off the edge. Jack’s hand rests on his own chair, so close to mine.

  So close.

  Despite how ba
dly I want to look at him, I keep my eyes on the sky. “Where do you see yourself in five years?”

  Jack turns toward me, his face illuminated by the fireworks. “Why?”

  “I’m curious, that’s all.”

  His fingers bump against mine. Dead serious, he says, “I think I’d like to be a lumberjack.”

  I bite back my silly grin, and together, barely touching, we watch the rest of the show.

  When the fireworks are over, we all say our goodbyes. Amber finds me before she and Hudson leave.

  “This was fun!” She offers me a tentative smile, which tells me she feels bad for revealing Ginger’s secret. “You just let me know if you want to go jogging. I go most mornings before Hudson wakes up.”

  Though her words are seemingly innocent, they bring to mind an image of her and Hudson sharing a bed. I’m not ready for that visual.

  “Okay,” I say.

  Amber’s face falls. She knows I’m not going to run with her.

  “All right,” she says. “Well…you have a good night. Oh! And happy early birthday!”

  She walks back to Hudson after I thank her.

  “Why do you think she’s trying so hard?” I ask Jack, who’s still beside me.

  He bumps my shoulder. “Maybe she feels a little guilty.”

  I think about it but don’t answer.

  With a knowing look in his eyes, he smiles. “You’re not quite over him yet, are you?”

  I love Jack’s honesty; I love his smile. I love that I can tell him the truth.

  “Maybe not completely,” I say, my voice quiet compared to the cheerful chaos around us.

  Jack takes my hand, a friendly gesture, and he gives it a squeeze. “How about I drive you home?”

  “I’d like that.”

  We’re the first ones back to the cabin, and Jack walks me to the porch.

  I dig out my keys. “You want to come in?”

  Schnitzel barrels through the door as soon as I open it.

  Jack leans over and gives the dog a scratch. “Your family will be here soon.”

  “It’s a little weird, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t think your dad likes me,” he admits with a laugh.

  I take a step toward him. “He doesn’t like that I like you.”

  “Why, Kinsley.” He taps my arm. “Is that a declaration?”

  Feeling bold, I look up at him. “It’s whatever you want it to be.”

  His lips twitch, and he takes a step closer, setting his hands on my shoulders. “I like you too.”

  My breath catches in my throat, and I stare up at him, waiting.

  He presses a quick and very chaste kiss to the top of my head. “Goodnight.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  As birthdays go, I’ve had worse. I have to admit it’s nice everyone drove up just to see me.

  “We should have done a cake yesterday.” Mom shakes her head. “I’m sorry I didn’t think about it.

  I assure her it’s fine.

  They’re all leaving early this afternoon, so we’re going out for brunch in Ouray before they go. Unfortunately, this means I have to drive that awful mountain again—once to get there and once to come back. I’m not looking forward to it.

  “I can’t believe you’ve been here a full month and haven’t spent any time in Ouray,” Mom says as we make our way down the pass.

  I’m more than happy to give her the wheel since she’s not spooked by the road.

  “The drive isn’t that bad,” she continues.

  And it’s not right now, but we’re next to the mountain on our way down. On my way up, I’ll be next to the cliff.

  I sigh with relief when the tiny town comes into view. We make our way down the last of the road and find a parking spot on the street. We all pile out, Mom and me from my car, and Dad and my sisters from theirs.

  Schnitzel’s little nose sticks out the window. He sniffs a few times and then settles on the seat. It’s still cool. With the windows down, he’ll be just fine until we return.

  I wish I could have kept him with me, but there’s nowhere to leave him when I’m away.

  “Look at how cute it is.” Liv gazes down the street. “I would be here all the time.”

  Ginger lowers her sunglasses to get a better look around. “I’d be at the hot springs.”

  It might be worth braving the mountain to soak in the pool.

  We hem and haw about where to eat breakfast but eventually end up in a small cafe. I scan the menu, and my stomach growls. Across the way, a patron digs into a huge plate of French toast. I settle on that even though my jeans are just a tiny bit snug this morning.

  I really am going to have to start jogging again. Just not with Amber.

  Once the waitress scurries off, Mom pulls a brochure from her purse and slides it to me.

  “Happy birthday,” she says.

  There’s a couple on horseback on the cover. The sun shines down on them, and a snow-capped mountain range rises in the background. It reads, Colorado Equine Adventures, est. 1972.

  I look up from the brochure. “What’s this?”

  Mom, Dad, and Liv look like they’re about to burst with excitement. Ginger just wears her look—her “Ginger” look. Right now, I’m not sure how to translate it.

  “Don’t you remember?” Dad says, eager. “You used to beg us to do this every summer, but we never got around to it.”

  It vaguely comes back to me. “This is the trail ride place in Silverton?”

  Mom nods. “Look at it!”

  Obediently, I flip open the brochure. There are several different options: Half Day, Full Day, Weekend, and Ultimate. The Ultimate package is circled in black permanent marker with the note “Happy birthday!!!” scrawled at the top.

  Oh, no.

  My eyes flicker back to my family, but they just watch me with expectant expressions. I look back at the text and skim it, feeling vaguely uneasy.

  “A week-long trail ride?”

  Surely that can’t be right. It says there’s camping involved. In tents. The only good news is the two nights spent in a lodge toward the middle of the trip.

  “We know you’ll have so much fun!” Mom says. “I wish we all could go.”

  The uneasy feeling turns to dread. “You mean you’re not coming?” My voice is almost a squeak. “This is just for me?”

  Mom’s not completely unperceptive. She leans in, her eyes warm and understanding. “This will be good for you, Kinsley. You will have such a good time. And imagine what it will do for your writing! Didn’t you tell me once that good writers gather as many experiences as they can?”

  I had been trying to talk her into taking me to a weekend spa.

  “Sure.” I attempt a smile. “It’ll be fun.”

  Ginger doesn’t look convinced, and she raises an eyebrow. “I tried to get them to buy you a new laptop.”

  That would have been nice.

  Liv rolls her eyes at Ginger and then turns to me. “I wish I were going. You’ll have to tell me all about it.”

  “You can go in a few years,” Dad assures Liv.

  She pouts a bit but doesn’t argue.

  “Now, we need to talk about this cabin business,” Dad says as soon as I tuck the brochure away. “You’ve done a good job getting it cleaned up. When you’re back, you can finish packing Grandma and Grandpa’s things. Then I think we’ll be all set to get it on the market.” He smiles. “The place looks great. You don’t have to stay here all summer.”

  Not feeling as enthusiastic about it as Dad, I nod. Luckily, our breakfast shows up to save me from answering him.

  What about the window boxes I was going to plant? Or the ghastly fishing reel toilet paper holder I’ve been planning to replace? Surely no one will buy the place with it there.

  Yes, they will. Of course they will. The cabin’s bright and sunny, tucked right in the mountains.

  Mom notices I haven’t started on my breakfast. “Are you all right, Kinsley?”

  I set a
side the fork I was twirling and reach for the warmed syrup. “I’m fine.”

  The conversation shifts to Ginger’s wedding. I listen, adding a little here and there as needed.

  After breakfast is finished, we stand on the sidewalk saying our goodbyes.

  Mom gives me one last hug. “We’ll call just as soon as we get home.”

  Dad hugs me as well, and then it’s Liv’s turn. When Ginger wraps her arms around me, she whispers near my ear, “Jack’s a catch. Don’t botch it up. And don’t go around with your hair in a knot. Do something with it.”

  I give her a look after I pull away, but she just graces me with a “Ginger knows best” smile.

  Changing the subject, I say, “Congratulations again.”

  Her face flickers for just a moment, and then she smiles. “Thank you, Kinsley.”

  They pile in their SUV, and I wave as they take off down the road. Once they’re out of sight, I turn toward the mountain pass. I’ll think I’ll do a little shopping before I head back.

  Soon, I’m carrying a shopping bag with more honey and a bird feeder. I wander up and down the street half a dozen times. I can’t avoid it any longer.

  It’s time to drive up the mountain.

  Just like before, it will be fine. How often do I cross the white line? Never. I’m a careful driver, and this is no different than any other road. So what if there’s a cliff? A really tall, sheer cliff…

  I clench the wheel so tightly, my knuckles turn white. I pass a pull-out where dozens of tourists have stopped to take pictures of a waterfall. At least, I think it’s a waterfall. My eyes are glued to the road, so I don’t know for certain.

  I’m more of a wreck when I reach Silverton than I was last time I drove up Red Mountain. This is probably why Mom didn’t tell me about it in the first place. I pull in front of the lodge. I deserve coffee after that drive, especially on my birthday.

  Hoping Agnes is working, I push through the doors. She makes the best latte. I don’t even think the concoction has a name. She just fills it full of every wonderful, fattening ingredient she keeps behind the counter.

  Unfortunately, the coffee counter is closed.

  Oh, well. I’ll just go home and have coffee. All by myself.

  As I leave the lodge, I glance around for Jack. There’s a couple chatting over on the sofas. A high school student who works here for the summer is at the front desk, and a mom and her two kids are looking at the bronzed elk statue in the corner.