[2015] Just the Essentials

by Shari L. Tapscott

  After all the rejection, it’s a little surreal.

  When I join my sisters at the table, they have my coffee waiting for me.

  “So?” Liv prompts, practically bouncing in her seat like a little girl.

  I take a sip. “So…I’m going to be published.”

  Ginger holds her disposable coffee cup up in a toast. “Congrats, baby sister.”

  We tap our cups together, and I smile. I’m bursting to call Jack.

  But I can’t.

  “Are you sure this is what you want to do?” Dad asks.

  He’s not happy about my decision, but his parents didn’t like it when he and Mom moved to Denver. It’s just the way it works sometimes.

  “I’m sure.”

  Mom hugs me. “It’s not that far. We’ll see you all the time.”

  Ginger frowns. “We better. There are still dress fittings and cake tastings—not to mention the actual wedding.”

  I laugh at her. “I’ll make it to everything.”

  As if she doesn’t quite believe me, she scowls.

  “We’ll come out for Christmas, too,” Mom promises.

  Liv gets the last hug in. “And I’ll come out for summers.”

  I laugh at them all. “You guys, I’ll see you next weekend.”

  My family and I exchange a dozen more goodbyes, and then I pull out of the driveway I’ve known my entire life. This time, Schnitzel’s at my side. I have him buckled in a ridiculous dog restraint system that he hates.

  It would be a lie to say I’m not scared. I am. But at twenty-one, it’s definitely time to move out.

  I pull onto I-70, and, after battling with traffic for thirty minutes, I’m making my way up the first pass. It’s mid-September, and the leaves are just beginning to change.

  After a day of driving, I pull into the cabin at just after four in the afternoon. I let Schnitzel out of the car, and he bounds around, sniffing everything.

  Besides the color in the trees, it looks the same. My bird feeder hangs from the porch, empty. The stained-glass window needs a good wash.

  When I get a chance, I’ll buy a new doormat.

  I walk to the For Sale sign in front of the deck and pull it out.

  This is real.

  Though I’m renting from my parents for now, I’ve promised to buy it as soon as I can. The cabin is mine.

  I whistle for Schnitzel. He bounds up to me, his tongue lolling out and his dark eyes bright with pleasure. He likes it here too. Together, we go in the front.

  Grandma and Grandpa’s things are still everywhere. I have boxes in the trunk of my car; I’ll start packing tomorrow. I wander over to the pictures on the mantle and the anniversary clock. I’ll keep these and a few other things.

  Reminiscing, I pick up one of Grandma’s ugly porcelain doves—the mate to the one I broke. As I set it back, I disturb something small and furry.

  I drop the dove as a chipmunk scampers down the mantle.

  Shrieking, I jump back as the figurine crashes to the ground and shatters at my feet.

  Irritated, I close my eyes. “You have got to be kidding.”

  While cleaning up the mess, I try not to picture Jack doing exactly the same thing months before. I mumble to myself, and Schnitzel watches me with wary eyes.

  Satisfied even the tiny shards are gone, I dig a new trap out of the closet. Just like the first, this one’s a humane live trap. Mr. Chipmunk has one night to find it. Tomorrow I’m driving down to Silverton to buy the old fashioned kind.

  I bait the trap with the sunflower seeds that are thankfully still in the cupboard and place it on the kitchen floor. Then, as a second thought, I make a little Hansel and Gretel trail of seeds leading to the entrance. Satisfied, I go about my business.

  As soon as I have a fire crackling in the hearth, I go out to my car to retrieve the boxes I brought with me. My family’s driving up next weekend with the rest.

  After calling my parents to let them know I made it all right, I unpack my clothes and toiletries.

  Now it’s time for the living room. Out of the last box comes Schnitzel’s new bed, a toilet paper roll holder that isn’t shaped like a fishing reel, and several jar candles that aren’t infused with bug repelling oils.

  When I’m finished, I sit on the couch, watching the fire I lit all by myself. Schnitzel curls up on his bed, and his little mustache twitches as he falls asleep.

  The ache is so much worse here. In Denver, I missed Jack and thought of him constantly. But here, it’s as if my heart is breaking all over again.

  I take a ridiculous amount of time getting ready to go to the lodge for a coffee. I want to look good, but I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard.

  My hair is down, swinging just past my shoulders, and my bangs are sprayed into place. I angle my head in the mirror. Are the earrings too much? They’re dangly and cute. I decide they’re fine, and then I add one more coat of mascara.

  I turn sideways in the mirror to make sure my jeans and sweater don’t make me look fat. I’m happy with my reflection. Exercising with an obsessive, pre-wedding Ginger has helped me lose the five pounds I gained this summer. I’ve even toned up a little.

  After letting Schnitzel run around the cabin for a few minutes, I tuck him inside, where he’ll be safe while I’m gone. I’m going to have to buy him a kennel. I’m terrified a coyote is going to eat him.

  My nerves grow as I get in my car, and by the time I pull into the campground, I’m practically trembling.

  I want to run into Jack; I’m terrified to run into Jack.

  Taking a fortifying breath, I push through the front doors. The familiar, comforting fragrance of the coffee counter hits me. It’s chilly outside, and today there’s a line of campers. Agnes and Shannon stand behind the bar, all smiles for their customers.

  What if they hate me? I didn’t even think about that.

  Agnes sees me first, and her eyes go huge. She elbows Shannon, who shoves her right back until she realizes what has Agnes’s attention.

  “Kinsley!” she hollers from across the lodge.

  I give them a tentative smile, and their faces light up as if they’re happy to see me.

  “I’ll start on your usual,” Agnes calls.

  I don’t even think my usual has a name, but Agnes remembers. Casually looking around, I stand in line, waiting for the girls to help the other customers.

  “How long are you back for?” Agnes demands once I reach them. She waves away my money. “On the house.”

  Shannon hands me my coffee and leans her elbows on the counter, waiting for my answer.

  “I’m moving into the cabin.”

  Both girls gasp like that’s the biggest news they’ve heard in months.

  “When?” Shannon demands.

  I take a sip of my coffee before I answer, “Yesterday, actually.”

  The girls share a cryptic look. I don’t know whether it’s good or bad.

  More customers fall in line behind me, and I step out of the way. “I’ll see you guys later.”

  I’m walking toward the door when Agnes calls my name.

  “Have you seen Jack yet?” she asks.

  My confidence wavers, and I shake my head.

  Their attention is drawn back to the customers, and I give them one last wave.

  I open the door just as someone comes in from the other side. Surprised, I step aside.

  “Amber!”

  Her face lights up, and she squeals, reaching in to give me a big hug. I hold my coffee away so I don’t spill it on her.

  She pulls back, studying me, and then launches into an inquisition. “What are you doing here? When did you get here? How long are you staying?”

  Laughing, I answer, “I moved into the cabin…yesterday…and a long time.”

  “How exciting!”

  I didn’t know how to get ahold of Amber. I haven’t been able to tell her how grateful I am.

  “Amber, thank you so much.”

  She waves it away
as if it were nothing. “I knew Aunt Pauline would just love it; that’s why I sent it to her. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “She’s publishing me! I’m ecstatic.”

  We move to one of the couches by the fire to catch up, and I ask her how she is and what she’s been doing the last couple months.

  She’s so excited, she practically can’t sit still. “I did it. I bought a little place just down the road. It’s completely run down and needs a total remodel, but it’s mine.”

  “You’re going to open a bed and breakfast?

  She nods. “That’s right!”

  I’m just asking her for more when the front doors swing open, letting in a cool breeze from outside.

  And there’s Jack.

  With Nicole.

  Our eyes lock, and my face goes white. My fingers grow cold even though I’m holding the hot coffee.

  Amber says a very unladylike word under her breath when she twists around to see what’s caught my attention.

  I don’t know what to do. I can’t just ignore him. But I can’t talk to him—not when he’s with her.

  Amber gives my arm a subtle squeeze.

  “I should get going.” I keep my eyes carefully averted. “I left my dog inside.”

  Amber frowns. “I’ll walk out with you.”

  Together, as a team, we pass Jack and Nicole. Jack’s eyes stay on mine, and I can’t look away or breathe. I’m vaguely aware that Nicole smiles like a cat with a bowl of cream, but my eyes are only for Jack.

  “Hey,” I say, feigning nonchalance.

  “Hey.”

  And that’s all we say before Nicole tugs him forward. My world shatters with one word.

  Bells chime as I enter the hardware store. An older couple at the counter greets me, and I fake a smile, trying to be friendly. The owner, too, calls a greeting, telling me to let him know if I need help.

  Do I ever need help.

  Jack’s dating Nicole? How did that happen?

  The lethal rodent traps are in the back aisle. I pluck one up before I lose my nerve and join the line.

  “You let me know, Gary, if those don’t work out for you. I can order in the others.”

  “Will do,” the older man says. He and the woman turn to leave, but he stops and tilts his head as if he recognizes me. “Kinsley, isn’t it?”

  Surprised, I nod. “That’s right.”

  “I’m Gary. I’m a friend of Jack’s.”

  “Oh, yes. He’s mentioned you.”

  He smiles. “Good things, I hope?”

  “Only good things.”

  He motions to the older woman next to him. “Have you met Eliza?”

  She smiles and extends her hand. “Jack caught a raccoon for me a few months back. I’m afraid I interrupted your plans that day.”

  I blink at the woman. She’s easily ten years older than my mother.

  “It’s nice to meet you.” I shake her hand. “And don’t worry about it.”

  “Are you staying for long?” she asks.

  I feel horrible for all the awful things I thought about this woman.

  “I’m moving into my grandparent’s cabin.”

  She smiles wide. “You’ll have to drop by one of these afternoons so we can get to know each other better.”

  “Sure.”

  “I’m sure Jack’s taking care of you,” Gary says, “but if you need anything, you just give me a call.”

  I pause. Then, feeling like a traitor, I say, “Actually, I do have a couple of small projects…maybe you could come take a look?”

  He shifts his bag and gives me an incredulous look. “Jack’s too busy?”

  I fake another smile.

  “We kind of…I mean we’re not…” I clear my throat. “Yeah, he’s too busy.” I meet his eyes. “I need to have a kennel put in, and maybe if you have time you can take a look at a window.”

  Gary looks confused. “Well, sure. I’ll come by tomorrow.”

  They excuse themselves, and I buy my trap.

  When I get back to the cabin, Schnitzel darts past me and out the door.

  I toss my bag on the kitchen table, and then my eyes seek out the plastic box in the corner. Sunflower seed hulls lay scattered around it.

  It can’t be.

  Though I know there is no chance I’ve already caught the tiny villain when I tried all summer with no success, I pick up the trap and carry it outside.

  Once near the trees, I give it a careful shake. Nothing. Just to be sure, I slide open the top. I nearly scream when a little brown body leaps from the opening. The chipmunk darts into the brush and out of sight.

  Bewildered, I stare at the empty trap.

  I finally caught him.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Gary is supposed to be here in five minutes. It seems wrong to ask for help from anyone other than Jack, but it’s not like I could call him.

  I wander around the back, trying to decide where the best place for Schnitzel’s kennel would be. I want him to have plenty of room, but it’s more important to keep him safe.

  I’m still studying the back area when I hear the rumble of a familiar truck. My heart skips, but my brain knows it’s Gary even if my heart says it sounds like Jack.

  Like I would know the difference between truck engines.

  I climb the back stairs and walk around the deck to the front. Then my breath catches.

  It is Jack.

  He takes his time getting out of the truck.

  With his eyes trained on me, he rests a hip against the grill and crosses his arms. “Why did you ask Gary?”

  I drink him in, every glorious bit of him. I remember his hands in my hair, the way his lips felt against mine. My heart stutters.

  “I didn’t know if you…” I shrug.

  Pushing away from his truck, he pulls a measuring tape from his belt. “You’re putting in a kennel?”

  There’s no smiles, no banter. He’s all business. Schnitzel runs over to him. I wonder if he’s going to ignore my dog, but he reaches down to pet him. Schnitzel falls at his feet.

  Luckily I have more restraint. Not much, but a little.

  “I was thinking of putting it in the back,” I say.

  “Show me.”

  As I lead him, the air practically vibrates between us. There’s so much to say, so much that was left unsaid.

  I motion to where the brush is thick. “I was thinking here, but I don’t know if you’ll want to clear the area or not.”

  “That’s fine.”

  Jack starts taking measurements. I slide my hands in my pockets, feeling awkward. He’s not talking. Should I go inside, leave him alone? Should I stand here, pretending his silence doesn’t bother me?

  His eyes are on his tape measure. “You cut your hair.”

  My stomach clenches, and I self-consciously touch the messy knot at the nape of my neck. He must have noticed yesterday when I saw him at the lodge.

  “A few inches,” I answer.

  “It looks good.”

  “Thanks.”

  Thick, screaming silence settles between us.

  “Gary said something about a window?” He strides past me to the deck and then waits for me to open the back door.

  “I want to see if we can turn it into a bay window. Now that I’m going to be living here, I need a place to write. I already picked out a desk. Dad’s bringing it next weekend.”

  Jack walks through the kitchen, his back to me. “So it’s true? You’re moving here?”

  I nod and then realize he can’t see me. “Yeah.”

  His shoulders tense, and I wish I knew what he was thinking. He measures the window frame and writes notes on a pad he pulls from his back pocket. “And Hudson?”

  “What about him?”

  Finally, he turns around. He moves slowly, deliberately. “Is he moving in with you?”

  I shake my head, my heart racing. “We’re not together.”

  Ask about Nicole. Demand to know what he was doing with her.
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  I look away. “You want some coffee?”

  “Uh, no. Thanks.” His voice goes back to distant and professional. “I have a job right after this. I just came to measure and give you some estimates.”

  “Okay.” My voice almost drops to a whisper.

  He meets my eyes again. Ginger’s words drift back to me: Kiss him like you mean it, and see if he kisses you back.

  Jack sighs, his shoulders sagging. “It doesn’t have to be like this.” He leans against the couch. “We can be friendly—we can be friends.”

  My stomach churning, I nod. “I’d like that.” Then like an idiot, I blurt out, “Are you dating her?”

  His eyes flicker with fleeting amusement, and for just a moment I get a glimpse of his smirk.

  “No,” he answers.

  I look at the floor. “Oh.”

  “It would never work.”

  I should say something, but I can’t get over the thought that he hasn’t been holding her—kissing her—like I’ve been imagining.

  He steps closer. “The friendly thing to do is ask me why it wouldn’t work.”

  I give him a small, wry smile. “Why?”

  “Because she’s not you.”

  He delivers it like he’s stating the answer to a math problem, like it’s a basic fact and not something that can take my breath away.

  “Nothing happened that morning in the tent,” I say, unable to meet his eyes. “Hudson barged in, hoping to convince me to get back together with him.”

  “I know.”

  My eyes fly to his.

  He crosses his arms again. “I know you. Once I thought about it, I knew you wouldn’t do that.”

  Tears prick my eyes, and suddenly I’m mad.

  “Why didn’t you call me?” I demand as I blink furiously, irritated that I can cry when I’m this angry. “For two solid months all I could think about was how you believed I could do that to you.” I take a breath. “And during that time, when I was heartsick over you, you knew the truth.”

  He matches my irritation with his own, but I see it for what it is. He’s still hurt. Just like I am.

  “Why’d you go back to Denver? You just up and left, Kinsley.”

  “Why’d you leave me in the hospital?”

  He turns from me and begins measuring places he’s already done. “You were so upset when I found you. I figured you realized you still wanted to be with Hudson.”