The Happy Camper

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The Happy Camper Page 22

by Melody Carlson


  “Okay, that helps.” Dillon looked at the black-and-white checkerboard floor. “Anything else?”

  “He likes watching some pro sports. Not everything, mind you. He’s not that much into football, but he’s followed the Blazers since he was a kid. Well, other than the years when they were such a mess no one wanted to follow them.”

  “That helps too.” Dillon pocketed her phone then led the way out, carefully locking the door behind them.

  “Before you go,” Donna paused in the driveway, “I’d like to say something.”

  “Sure.” Dillon braced herself for another warning, but Donna smiled.

  “I hope I didn’t scare you off last night. It’s just that, well . . .”

  “You love your son,” Dillon finished for her. “I understand. And I actually think it’s very sweet. Jordan is lucky to have you.”

  “Well, thank you. But I have a feeling you didn’t need me to say all that, Dillon. You appear to be a genuinely good person. I should’ve known that when the twins and Janelle were singing your praises. But I suppose I needed to see it for myself.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate you saying that. And I honestly wouldn’t do anything to hurt Jordan. Not intentionally.”

  “I believe you.” Donna nodded.

  They said goodbye. As Dillon drove back toward town, she felt awkward about her conversation with Donna. Although she appreciated the kind words, they were adding even more pressure. The expectations were quickly rising. And Dillon wasn’t sure if she’d be able to measure up . . . or whether Jordan would approve of these assumptions his mother was making. Maybe he really was a confirmed bachelor who wanted nothing beyond friendship and a little help with his trailer’s décor.

  As Dillon came into town, she knew her first stop would be the Silver Slipper, and she wasn’t looking forward to it. Unfortunately, no other business could compete with Vivian’s well-stocked shop—or her vintage trailer section. Hopefully the proprietress wouldn’t be working right now. Dillon was about to go inside when she noticed the antique emporium across the street. Curious as to what they might have, she decided to go there first.

  With her eyes peeled for anything red, white, or black, she perused the various vendor sections until she found one that screamed “Jordan’s trailer.” Plus everything in this section was 20 percent off. Before long, she’d collected an interesting assortment of old-fashioned Coca-Cola signs and paraphernalia, a pair of red-and-white salt-and-pepper shakers, and several other charming pieces. As she set her collection by the cash register, she asked about car-related collectibles.

  “One guy has a whole section with car stuff.” The woman told her where it was located and Dillon went back to look. Sure enough, there were lots of interesting pieces and plaques, and although she wasn’t quite sure what kinds of cars they were, or how she’d use them, she selected several items that looked bright and fun. Hopefully Jordan would agree.

  “I’m making these purchases for a friend,” she explained. “If he doesn’t like them, would it be a problem to return anything?”

  “It’s fine as long as it’s within two days and you have your receipt.”

  Dillon thanked her, and feeling like a successful huntress, carried her bags to her car. This was a good start. She braced herself for the Silver Slipper, but before she crossed the street to go inside, she watched as a pickup carrying a load of lumber passed by. The red bandana attached to the back of the wood caught her eye. And instead of going into Vivian’s chic shop, Dillon headed for Atwood’s.

  As she went inside, she was glad not to spy Jordan around. She didn’t really want to explain why she was on the hunt for red bandanas because she wasn’t even sure if her idea would work. The clerk directed her to the aisle, and she gathered up all the red bandanas they had. Then, feeling inspired, she gathered up black ones too. Next she went to the kitchen aisle, thinking she might save a few bucks by getting some of the necessities here, rather than at the Silver Slipper.

  Her instincts proved right. She found a shiny teakettle, ceramic mugs, and several kitchen utensils—all in red. She also found red-and-white gingham towels and a few other cute plastic containers that looked useful. She was surprised Jordan hadn’t gathered up some of these things himself. Maybe he hadn’t liked them. Well, she would keep receipts, and anything he didn’t like would be returned.

  Getting a cart, she decided to check out their camping section. There she discovered a perfect set of unbreakable dishes in red-and-white checks. Also some acrylic glasses trimmed to match the dishes. They even had an inexpensive set of silverware with red Lucite handles that looked perfect with the dishes. She also got a couple strings of camp lights and a pair of shiny silver oil lanterns. This was fun! Even if Jordan didn’t like anything she’d picked out today, she was still enjoying herself. And she would enjoy putting the whole thing together. In fact, that gave her an idea.

  “Is Jordan here today?” she asked the clerk as she was checking out.

  “Not right now. He’s making a delivery.”

  “Oh.” Dillon got out her phone, thinking she could just text him her idea. “By the way, these items are for Jordan’s vintage trailer,” she said suddenly. “I guess I should’ve asked if he gets a discount.”

  “He gets a big discount. But he has to authorize it.”

  “Can he do that by phone?”

  “Of course.”

  So Dillon called his number. “Sorry to bother you,” she said quickly when he answered. “But I’m getting a few things for your trailer at the hardware store. You guys have some great stuff. Anyway, I guess you can get a discount?”

  “Yeah, absolutely. And they can put it on my account too.”

  “I’ll hand you over to the clerk.” Dillon gave her the phone and waited. When she got the phone back, she stepped away from the counter and continued. “And I got an idea. I thought if you could bring your trailer out to the farm, it would be easier for me to work on it. I need to do some measuring and sewing for your curtains and things.”

  He chuckled. “You’re making me curious now.”

  “Would you mind bringing it out there?”

  “Not at all. I’ll drive it over this evening.”

  She thanked him and said goodbye, waiting as the cashier finished ringing up her purchases. Thanks to Jordan’s discount, the total was very reasonable. Hopefully Jordan wouldn’t think she was trying to be cheap. More importantly, when it was all said and done, she hoped he would approve. But there wasn’t time to obsess over that now. She had a busy afternoon ahead.

  CHAPTER

  27

  Still needing to get groceries for tonight’s dinner with Jordan, Dillon was tempted to skip the Silver Slipper altogether. But she was parked right in front and knew it was the only store in town that sold fabric. Plus she suspected she’d find some trailer treasures inside. So once again she loaded her purchases into the back of her car, and then she braced herself. The little silver bell dinged as Dillon went into the pretty shop. But not seeing a salesperson around, Dillon picked up a shopping basket and slipped back to the vintage trailer section to peruse. Ironically, there were some things back there very similar to items Dillon had already gathered, but with much higher prices.

  Dillon did find a few items, and as she set a cute plastic platter in her cart, she heard Vivian greeting her. Dillon turned to smile at her.

  “I thought your trailer was all set up.” Vivian studied the red-and-white plastic platter in Dillon’s basket. “And that doesn’t exactly look like your color scheme.”

  “It’s not for me.” Dillon picked up a stainless steel soap dispenser, then seeing the price, set it down.

  “Oh?”

  “No, you’re right. My trailer is pretty much set. Didn’t I show you photos?”

  “Yes. Of the interior.”

  Dillon picked up a black-and-white plastic pitcher, examining it. She knew it would make an attractive and usable accent in Jordan’s trailer, so despite being overpriced
, she put it in her basket. “I mostly came to check out your fabric selection,” she told Vivian as she headed for the fabric.

  “Looking for anything special?” Vivian trailed her.

  “I’m not really sure.” Dillon wanted to be elusive, but it only increased Vivian’s curiosity. “I need a plain white cotton fabric. Something to line curtains, you know?”

  “I have some muslin. Would this work?” Vivian pulled out a bolt.

  “Yes, that’s good. I think I’ll need, say, five yards.” Dillon pointed to a bolt of black-and-white gingham—with big checks. “And I’d like . . . about three yards of that.”

  “Okay.” Vivian removed the bolt. “I guess I’ll have to cut it myself since Lilly’s on her break.”

  “I’ll keep browsing while you do that.” Dillon went over to the soft goods section and was happily surprised to see a thick polar fleece throw in red-and-black buffalo check. Perfect! She continued to look around, but didn’t find anything that looked worth the price on the tags. Vivian’s markup had to be pretty high. As Dillon waited at the register, she decided it would be worth the half-hour drive to the closest superstore to get some of the bedding Jordan would need for his sister and nieces.

  Vivian’s brow creased with curiosity as she carried the fabric pieces to the register. “So you didn’t mention what you’re working on, Dillon.” Her tone was sweet as sugar. “Is this for a trailer by any chance? Are you working on another project?”

  “Yes, it is for a trailer,” Dillon answered pleasantly.

  “Red, black, and white . . .” Vivian began to ring up the merchandise. “Whose trailer might that be?”

  Dillon didn’t like this cat-and-mouse game and decided to be up-front. “It’s for Jordan’s trailer. I’m fixing it up for him.”

  “Really?” Vivian blinked. “Does Jordan even know you’re doing this?”

  “Of course.” Did Vivian really think Dillon would do this without his okay?

  “Because Jordan is quite protective of his trailer. I’ve offered to help him before—and not that long ago—but he always makes an excuse.”

  “Well, I guess he wants it to be comfortable for Janelle and the girls, you know, since they’re going on the camping trip.”

  “Maybe . . . but Jordan always claims he has a very specific plan for his trailer. Did he discuss that with you?”

  Dillon shook her head. “He didn’t mention anything specific.”

  Vivian looked skeptical. “Well, I’ll be curious to see how this turns out.”

  “So will I.” Dillon’s smile was stiff. She, more than anyone, knew that her décor decisions could go sideways on her. But it was a risk she wanted to take.

  “You don’t sound too confident.” Vivian told her the total.

  “To be honest, this is still new to me. But I had such fun doing my own trailer and, well, Jordan likes how it looks . . . I guess I’m hoping he’ll like what I do to his too.”

  “If he doesn’t and if you need to return your purchases, remember to save your receipt. Of course that doesn’t apply to the fabric.” She held up the black-checked material and then slid it into the bag. “I suppose that might go nicely in there. But if it’s for curtains, I doubt you’ll have enough.”

  Dillon shrugged. “I guess I’ll find out.”

  “Well, I can’t wait to see how it turns out.” Vivian’s smile looked catty and Dillon suspected she was hoping for a good laugh. But this only added to Dillon’s determination to make it look good. She paid Vivian and, thanking her, made a quick exit.

  By five thirty, after scrambling all afternoon, Dillon was prepared for Jordan to show up. She hadn’t put the steaks on her little barbecue yet, but the rest of the meal was ready to go. This would be the first time she’d entertained at her trailer, and she was excited for the evening to begin. All of today’s trailer treasures were safely stashed in her car, and she didn’t want to tip her hand to him in regard to her design plan. She wanted to have his trailer completely done before her big “unveiling.” Hopefully by tomorrow.

  Her plan for tonight was to serve dinner outside—as if they were camping. She’d even put a pretty tablecloth on her little camp table, complete with fresh flowers in a mason jar. Her string of lights was ready to plug in, and she had a couple of oil lanterns ready to light for more ambience after the sun set. Everything looked perfect and she couldn’t wait for Jordan to arrive.

  It was close to six when she spotted his pickup and trailer coming down the driveway. She went out to meet him, explaining that he could park in her old spot next to the barn. She watched as he expertly backed it in—without any help from her. She felt a mixture of awe and envy. Why couldn’t she do it like that?

  “We’re going to eat at my trailer,” she explained as he got a small toolbox from the back of his pickup.

  As they walked over to the pond, she asked about his day—eager to get him talking so she wouldn’t have to describe her whirlwind of activity in acquiring things for his trailer. Especially since Vivian’s questioning had been reverberating through her mind for the last several hours. What if Vivian was right and Jordan really did have very specific expectations—and what if Dillon’s design plan didn’t meet them? She knew she never would’ve entrusted her trailer to anyone else. Why had he allowed her to help?

  At her little campsite, Jordan set down his toolbox then looked around with what seemed like approval. “Very nice place you got here, Dillon. Looks like you’re a serious camper.”

  “I’ve been loving my setup. There’s just one more thing I’d like—I ordered a turquoise-and-white striped awning from that place you told me about.” She paused to light the grill. “It’s supposed to arrive this week. Hopefully in time for this weekend.”

  “That’ll be good.” He kicked a trailer tire as if testing it.

  “I’ve got some of Grandpa’s New Yorker steaks to grill,” she told him. “I thought while they’re cooking, you might give Rose her checkup. Hopefully she’ll pass the exam.”

  “Dr. Jordan at your service.” He picked up his toolbox.

  And so for the next half hour, Dillon busied herself with grilling steaks and corn on the cob . . . and Jordan poked around on her trailer. When she announced dinner was ready, he went inside her trailer to wash up.

  “So nice and homey in there,” he said as he came back outside.

  “Thanks.” She wanted to say it was a relief to hear since she was still a little uncertain about how his would turn out. Instead she waved to the little table. “And dinner is served.”

  After they sat down, Jordan asked if he could say a blessing. “Absolutely,” she told him, waiting as he said a sweet prayer, even asking traveling protection for all the campers who would be meeting at the lake this weekend. As they started to eat, she inquired about Rose’s checkup. “What’s the prognosis, doctor?”

  His brow creased. “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news—especially after you made this fabulous meal—but it’s not good.”

  Dillon’s heart sank. “What do you mean?”

  “Rose needs some serious work before I’d proclaim her road ready.”

  “What kind of work?”

  He went through a list that sounded very much like what he’d predicted at the birthday party. “That much work could take a day or two.”

  Dillon considered this. “Will it be ready by Friday?”

  “That’s your best-case scenario, but you’d have to get it into the shop ASAP. And mechanics in this town usually have a waiting list.”

  “Oh . . . I didn’t realize my trailer was in such bad shape.” She let out a disappointed sigh.

  “If it’s any consolation, what you need fixed is pretty typical for an old trailer. And my trailer was in much worse condition when I got it.”

  “I suppose this means I’ll miss out on this year’s campout.” She tried to hide how hard this was hitting her, but she honestly felt close to tears. “Maybe by next year . . .”

  Jordan purs
ed his lips. “Not necessarily.”

  She brightened. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I have a good friend who’s an excellent mechanic . . . and Brent just happens to owe me a favor.”

  “Really?” Her hopes were rising. “Do you think—”

  “Do you mind if I call him right now?”

  “No, of course not. Go ahead.”

  Jordan stood up, pulled out his phone, and stepped away from the table. Dillon waited as he spoke to Brent. He explained the situation, then listened to his friend’s response.

  “Sure, I can do that. Thanks, buddy.” Jordan hung up the phone then grinned at her.

  “Well?” She waited. “What did he say?”

  “He’ll look at it. He can’t promise anything until he sees it for himself. He pointed out that sometimes it takes time to locate the right parts for an old trailer.”

  “Oh.” She nodded, absorbing this. “But at least he’ll try.”

  “He suggested you bring it over to him as soon as possible. Tonight or tomorrow morning at the latest.”

  “I, uh, yeah sure, I can do that.” She tried to appear more confident than she felt. Hopefully it wouldn’t involve backing up.

  “Or I can do it.” He picked up his corncob. “It’s on my way home, and I have my pickup here. Might as well let me drop it off.”

  “Oh, thank you!” She beamed at him. “I really, really appreciate it.”

  They continued to eat, visiting congenially, but Dillon felt distracted. What if her trailer was in worse shape than they thought? What if it would take weeks—and lots of money—to fix? Was she ready for that? And what about her lovely sleeping quarters? Did this mean she was relegated to the house again?

  They’d barely finished dinner when Jordan stood. “You know, if we want Brent to get started on your trailer right away, I might as well get it to him before dark. That way I can show him what I already found and he’ll have a head start on things.” He frowned. “As much as I hate to eat and run—especially from such a nice dinner—it might be for the best.”

 

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