Jackson’s breath catches, I feel it in the way his abs tighten against my back. I’m just about to turn around when—
“I’m happy you put yourself out there,” Miranda says kindly. “All my friends agree; we loved your book. And I’m happy that you put yourself out there in order to come down here. I know it wasn’t easy, and I know we were pushy about it.”
We all laugh, but I can’t find it in me to be even the slightest bit upset about any of it. I’m lucky to have friends who have stuck with me as long as they have, who’ve gently eased me back out of my self-imposed post-breakup exile.
“For a while it felt like we were all drifting too far apart,” Miranda continues. “I still have Mateo, but…so many things have changed between the rest of us. We’re not together as much as we used to be, and I know people grow apart as they get older, but…I don’t want that to happen to us. It feels like we stopped making our friendship a priority. I know there were extenuating circumstances.”
I don’t miss her quick glance over in Jackson’s and my direction.
“I wanted to have our engagement party here because I wanted to help Ayanna out, but I also wanted to have it here because this place always meant so much to us. I hoped everyone being here again would reignite that thing that’s been missing. I love you all so much, and I don’t want us to drift apart again when we go home. I want us to keep coming back here, and to make time for each other again. And I really hope I’m not the only one who feels that way.”
“You’re not,” I tell her. I feel like I need to be the clearest about this since I’m the one who’s drifted the furthest away. I don’t want to go back to New York and only return when we’re celebrating life events. I want these wonderful people to be a bigger part of my life again, and I want to be a bigger part of theirs.
“Let’s make a pact,” I say, looking at the faces of all my friends. “Let’s be more present in each other’s lives. Let’s not keep bottling up our struggles. Let’s share them with each other, let’s ease each other’s burdens.” I glance around at them, happy to find them nodding their heads in agreement. Jackson grips my hand and places a sweet kiss on my neck to show his. “Let’s remind each other when we’re not living up to our friendship. I’m pretty sure there will come a time when we’ll all need it.”
“Agreed,” Miranda says. “Let’s make it a point to come down here once or twice a year. This week, engagement party or not, has been really special.”
“It has,” we agree.
Ayanna cracks open her thermos and tops up our mugs of hot chocolate. We all move to raise our glasses over the crackling fire.
“To friendship,” Miranda says.
“To making dreams come true,” Audrey adds.
“To new jobs, new novels, and not being stuck,” Jackson chimes in.
Ayanna chimes in. “To keeping this place open long enough for our kids to keep up these traditions.”
Hear, hear.
We clink our glasses together and drink.
Chapter Twenty-One
It’s really late. A quick glance at the time shows it’s—wow—a little past three. I’m curled up in a chair in the corner of my cabin, my laptop is balanced on the arm. My screen is the only light in the room; I’ve turned the brightness down as low as it’ll go so I don’t wake Jackson.
He’s completely conked out. He drifted off to sleep about a second after his head hit the pillow, probably exhausted from all the fun we had after we came in from the fire pit. He did indeed have lots and lots of plans for the icing from the cake we won earlier, and he took his sweet time with me in the shower afterward washing the sticky remnants of it off my skin.
Sam is snoozing away too, softly snoring with his head hanging off the edge of the mattress.
I tried sleeping, but my mind was going full speed. After an emotional night with my friends around the campfire, I couldn’t stop thinking about my life in New York, how empty it feels there with everyone I love over two-hundred miles away. Then my thoughts drifted to the main character in my next novel, and I had some ideas I wanted to put down before I forgot them.
So, I grabbed my laptop and got to work. I’ve been sitting here for about two hours now. I finally have what I think is a pretty good working copy of my first chapter, and a nice start on the second.
“Bird?” Jackson says sleepily. The sheets rustle as he sits up in bed. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine. I was having trouble sleeping so I got up and started writing. I didn’t wake you up, did I?”
“No,” he says, rubbing his face. “I just rolled over and you weren’t there. I missed you.”
This sappy, lovesick aww makes its way out of my throat before I can stop it. Jackson laughs, all grumbly from sleep.
“I can come back to bed, but I’ll probably bring this thing with me.”
“I’m glad you’re writing, although I’m sorry it’s because you couldn’t sleep.”
“Trust me, I must’ve had some superhuman insomnia tonight to not be able to sleep with you as a pillow.”
He smiles, gets up, and heads over to the mini fridge next to the dresser. He grabs a bottle of water for me, then swipes a blanket off the end of the bed.
He twists the cap off the bottle and hands it over. “Stay hydrated so you can be at the top of your game.” He throws the blanket over my lap and tucks it in around my feet. “Stay warm so you can concentrate.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and cups my cheek as he leans in and kisses me. “Don’t fall asleep here. You’ll wake up with a sore neck.”
I place my fingers under his chin, then rub at his stubble with my thumb. “This is life with me, unfortunately. Sometimes I write in the middle of the night. You’ll have to learn to love it,” I tease.
He looks like he’s about to say something, but purses his lips instead. He says goodnight and kisses me again before he climbs back under the covers.
I’m left feeling oddly uneasy, and swallow down the sinking feeling that things between Jackson and me are about to go seriously wrong.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I manage to get a few hours of sleep, but I’m wide awake just after seven. I volunteer to take Sam on his morning walk so that Jackson can go on a long run. He’s been antsy all morning, and I figure some alone time to sort out whatever’s on his mind will be a good thing.
We need to have a talk tonight about what’s going to happen tomorrow, when it’s time for us to leave. I’ve been putting it off, but I can’t avoid it anymore. After the party, we’ll sit down and figure out what’s going on between us.
I’m sure it will be fine.
At least I hope it will. I’m trying not to think about it too much.
Sam and I are about halfway to the main house when I spot Audrey sitting on a bench beneath an oak tree. She’s picking at a croissant, and there isn’t a cup of coffee in her immediate vicinity. That’s how I know things are bad.
I make a beeline for her as Sam makes a beeline for her croissant. He trots up to her happily, his tags clanging against his collar.
“Hey,” I say as I take a seat beside her on the bench.
“Hey.” She rips off a piece of her pastry and offers it to Sam. He very carefully leans in and takes it.
He gobbles it down, then looks at her expectantly for more, but I tell him no. He lays down and rests his head on my feet like the good boy that he is.
“Are you doing okay?” I ask. “I went to check on you last night, but your lights were off. I didn’t want to disturb you if you were actually sleeping.”
“I was lying awake and staring at the ceiling, embarrassed about what a drama queen I was.”
“You were not a drama queen,” I say, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. “We all treated last night as a group therapy session. I wish I knew you’d been feeling that way. I’ve been a bad friend.”
She sighs. “You haven’t been a bad friend. I never told anyone how I was fe
eling, and I wouldn’t have even if you’d been living in DC instead of New York. It’s just…it’s been building up inside me for a long time.”
“Do you feel like talking about it now? Sam and I are great listeners.”
She pulls away and turns sideways on the bench so that she’s facing my direction. “I need to say something and get it off my chest. And then I’ll have said it and I can stop thinking about it.”
I gently pull my feet out from under Sam and mirror Audrey’s position. “Okay. All your secrets are safe with me.”
She manages a half-hearted smile before she begins. “I’m happy for Miranda and Mateo. And I’m—obviously—so happy for you and Jackson.”
“But.”
“But…I’m lonely. I’ve been feeling that way for a while now, but it’s been exacerbated by all the coupling here.”
“Audrey, that’s normal.”
“That’s not the worst part. There’s more.”
“Okay.”
She bites her lips and fidgets with her fingers, clearly nervous about whatever she’s going to say next.
“This is a no judgment zone. Feel free to spill without worry.”
She tilts her head back and looks up at the leaves for a few seconds before she makes up her mind. “I’m jealous of you. Not you specifically, or…not just you specifically. Miranda has a fun job that she loves going to every morning. Ayanna built all of this, and she’s so good at it. People are booking at high rates, and if that keeps up this place will be a success. You’re an amazing writer. You guys all love what you do and it pays the bills. I am insanely jealous of that, and it makes me feel awful.”
I place my hand over hers and give it a squeeze. “I was lucky,” I tell her. “I succeeded at something a lot of people fail at. There are thousands of writers out there who are better at it than I am, slaving away on novels that no one will ever read because they don’t submit them to the right person who reads it at the right time. That’s all it is, Audrey. It’s luck. I had what someone wanted when they wanted it. If that hadn’t happened, I would’ve written a hundred other books, and maybe even failed a hundred more times.”
“That’s not exactly reassuring,” she says with a short, bitter laugh.
“When I first moved to New York, I lived off of the five-thousand dollars I collected from graduation presents. I rented a tiny shoebox apartment with three other girls, that was basically a dorm with a kitchen. We slept in bunk beds. I had no privacy, and sometimes I had to run two blocks down to the Starbucks just to use the bathroom. I had two jobs waiting tables, and would take my laptop with me so I could write during my breaks between lunch and dinner shifts. I submitted my manuscript to fifteen different agents, and was rejected fifteen times. I tweaked it, and was rejected fourteen more. But one person took a chance on me, and look what happened. That’s all you need…to find your one person.”
Audrey presses her lips together and nods. “I didn’t know all that. I think you’re so talented. In my mind, you made it right away.”
I huff a laugh. “Most definitely not true. And as for finding someone worthwhile who would be willing to deal with you? Anyone who sees your passion for your art, who can look at your perpetually paint-stained fingers and think that kind of dedication is a bad thing? That’s a person who doesn’t deserve you anyway. And I would very much like to punch Tom in the throat for ever making you doubt yourself.”
“Mind if I watch?” Audrey asks with a lighthearted laugh.
“Nope. He didn’t appreciate you, and he didn’t treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Someone will, and he’ll be the luckiest guy in the world.”
She smiles brightly, and it feels like an accomplishment. After all the love and support my friends have given me, it’s nice to give back.
“Feel like finishing this guy’s walk with me?” I ask, jiggling Sam’s leash. He perks right up.
“I’d love to,” Audrey says, giving him a pat on the head. “But I think I’m going to go back to my cabin and sketch. I’m feeling inspired.”
“Good. Paint me a pretty picture of the gazebo. Allow me to commission you for your artistic services.”
She scoffs. “You know I’d do that for free.”
“Don’t do it for free. Your time and talent are worth something, Audrey. Make people pay that.”
“Okay.”
An idea hits me. “You should do some paintings of the lake, the cabins, the main house. Talk to Ayanna about displaying them and selling them. If anyone else loves this place as much as we do, you know they’d want to take a picture of it home with them.”
Audrey’s eyes blaze with excitement as she surges up on her tiptoes and wraps her arms around me in an enthusiastic hug. “Bird, that’s a great idea!”
“I have those sometimes,” I reply, playfully tapping my forehead.
She runs off to her cabin, in a mad rush propelled by her imagination, desperate to get everything she’s thinking down on paper before it slips away. I know the feeling all too well. It’s something that’s eluded me the past few months, but comes more and more often the longer I’m here with all these wonderful people I love so much.
* * *
Ayanna sits at the desk in her office, staring at her laptop screen with tired eyes. I hang back in the doorway, keeping a firm grip on the tray her lunch is on. I’m positive she hasn’t had anything to eat today; she was sitting just like this when I asked her if she was planning on having breakfast.
She told me she was going to get up in a few minutes.
It’s been a few hours.
Drawing on a skill I learned during my time as a waitress, I carefully balance the tray in my left hand and knock on the door with my right.
The sound doesn’t even register, so I knock harder.
Still nothing.
“Ayanna?”
She jolts, sending her mouse skittering to the floor.
“Oh my god,” she says, pressing her hand against her chest as she leans down to pick up the mouse. “You scared the hell out of me, Birdie.”
I walk over and place the tray on her desk. “I knocked twice. You were totally zoned out.”
“I’ve been looking at this reservation system for over an hour,” she says, sighing deeply as she rubs her temples. “I’m trying to make sure I have everything right before grand opening. Before that I was going over the menu for M&M’s party tonight, making sure that we had accommodated for food allergies, that the company I rented the high tops from was on their way over. I had to double-check that the groundskeepers hung the lights the way they asked them to. It’s never-ending.”
“Take a rest and eat,” I tell her. “You’re running yourself ragged, and you’re no use to anyone when you’re this frazzled.”
She gives me a grateful smile. “Thank you. My stomach’s been growling, but I was in a groove so I didn’t want to stop.”
“With the way you were staring at your screen, I think your brain’s decided to shut down for you,” I say as I take the seat across from her. “I’m going to sit here and make sure you eat that. Give your eyes and your mind a little break.”
Ayanna rolls her eyes at me, but it’s good natured. She takes a bite of the sandwich—one of the lunch specials from the kitchen—and practically moans. Food always tastes better when you’re starving, but this one is moan-worthy even on a full stomach.
“I can’t remember the last time I ate a full meal,” she says. “It’s probably been at least a day.”
“It might be easier to make time to eat if you’d let people help you.”
We’ve all offered, but she declines every time.
“You know how Type A I am.”
“Believe me, I do. But this isn’t sustainable, Ayanna. You’re going to have a breakdown or make yourself sick if you don’t let go of some of this stuff and allow someone else to handle it.”
“But this is all so important, Birdie,” she says, like she’s begging me to understand.
“I know. This business needs that beautiful brain of yours to succeed, it’s no good to you or anybody else if it’s completely fried from being overworked. You did a great job hiring people. They take the same kind of pride in their work that you do, and that’s why this place is going to succeed. Let them do what you hired them to do.”
She picks at the side salad I brought in with me. “I hope you’re right.”
“I’ve been thinking,” I say, perching my body on the edge of my seat. I haven’t given this idea a ton of thought; but I know deep in my heart that it’s the right thing to do. “I don’t have anything pressing going on at the moment. How would you feel about me coming down to stay for a few weeks when you open? I can be here to help, to support you whenever you want to rip your hair out.” I nod at the plate sitting in front of her. “I’ll make sure you’re eating.”
Her eyes widen, but she bites on her lips as she considers my offer. “But what about your writing?”
I shrug. “I can do it here in my downtime. This place has always gotten my creative juices flowing.”
Ayanna’s eyes are glassy; she looks like she’s on the verge of weeping. “You would do that?”
“Of course I would. You guys helped me keep it together after the accident, and…even though I distanced myself for what I thought was my own good, you dragged me kicking and screaming back into a situation that desperately needed to be resolved. I owe you a lot. This is the least I can do.”
“All the cabins are booked, but I have a guest room in mine. Would you mind being roomies?”
“I would love that. I’ll go home and get things situated, then come right back down for your opening.”
Ayanna smiles, looking a hundred pounds lighter than she did a minute ago. She seems relieved, and still on the verge of crying.
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