by Ellie Hall
Emma’s eyes widened as she locked onto mine, then scanned me from head to toe. I tried to hold in my smile as she took in what I was wearing. As far as reunions went, I was glad I was wearing a swimming suit, because I still worked out. Although I didn’t need to have an image of Emma in her swimsuit in case this didn’t work out again.
“Zach,” Emma breathed, most likely unintentionally.
“How have you been?” I asked.
“Good,” she said quietly.
Jessica laughed. “You have not been good.”
Emma looked behind me then to the side, searching for someone that wasn’t there. “Are you alone?” she asked.
“I was set up on a blind date, but I was stood up.”
Jessica laughed again, apparently thinking this situation was humorous. “And you still came?” she asked.
“I wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to be on the water just because someone decided they didn’t want to hang out with me.” I looked back to Emma. “And I’m glad I did.”
Emma’s mouth popped open. Apparently, she was too stunned to say anything.
“Are you guys going to get in the water?” someone said from behind me.
That perked up everyone in her group, except Emma.
“Yep,” someone said, jumping out of the boat.
Most of the girls followed, which left only Emma and Jessica.
I moved to the side so the people behind us could go. “I’m not ready to go in yet. Go ahead.”
Emma and Jessica followed me off to the side.
“I’m going to let you talk to him,” Jessica said before smiling at me and jumping into the water quickly.
“So,” Emma said awkwardly.
My smile broadened. “I know this is unconventional, but I was wondering if you would like to go out with me.”
“What?” Emma asked.
“My date ditched me, so I’m here alone. Are you interested in being my date right now?” I asked again.
A smile slowly spread across her face. “I would love that.”
“Perfect. Do you know how to snorkel?”
She laughed. “I would wager I’m better than you.”
“I’m interested to see this,” I said, pulling her hand into mine and squeezing it lightly.
For the first time since breaking up with her a year ago, I felt like I was myself again.
“Are you ready to go to the hotel?” Emma asked.
I looked at the water then back to her. “Are you sure you’re fine spending our honeymoon in Florida?” I asked.
We had spent the last six months getting to know each other and dating like a typical relationship would have progressed. All my suspicions were answered during that time. Emma and I were compatible on more than just a physical level. We were each other’s other half. Together we made a whole.
“Isn’t this a typical honeymoon destination anyway?” she asked.
“Yes, but would you rather go back to Oregon to finish our honeymoon where we started?” I asked her.
“This just feels right,” she said contentedly.
“It does, doesn’t it?
Emma went up on her tiptoes to give me a kiss.
“Let’s go.” I pulled her towards the hotel in her simple spaghetti strap, white dress she’d worn for the ceremony.
“Are you sure you don’t want to grab some Chinese food first?”
I shook my head, but chuckled lightly. “That can wait. I’d like to experience a real honeymoon this time.”
She placed her free hand on my arm, cuddling up to me as we walked to the bleach white hotel, ready to start a true marriage this time. All the heartache we had gone through had been worth it to be in this place now. With Emma in my arms.
Connect with Johanna Evelyn
Johanna Evelyn graduated from the school of hard knocks with a degree in, I survived my twenty’s. She loves all things rocks, the ocean, singing, reading, gardening, food, finding cures for rare incurable diseases (through raising awareness, Go PSC!), and writing. She gets most of her book ideas from her dreams, then adds a little of herself to every story.
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The Backup Plan
Melanie Jacobson
When an old friend hires Tabitha Winters as the celebrity chef for the reopening of their old summer camp, she can’t wait to see everyone . . . except Adam Reed. Too bad he shows up to collect on a pact she never should have made.
1
WELCOME HOME FROM PRISON!
Ben’s cheerful poster waited for me as I exited the terminal into the airport baggage claim.
I smiled at my old friend. “It took me twelve years to get to this point, but I’m definitely going to murder you now.”
“What’s a welcome back to Camp Oak Crest without a prank? Besides, I thought it’d draw less attention than writing WELCOME CELEBRITY CHEF TABITHA WINTERS.”
“Quick, what’s first aid for an eye sprain from rolling it too hard?”
He tucked the poster under his arm and grabbed me in a big hug. “It’s good to see you, Tabs. How have you been?”
“Great?”
“I would think so. Cable show, bestselling cookbook. We’re not worthy.”
I flicked his ear like I had a million times when we were kids. “Stop.”
He grinned at me. “We really are thankful that you came out to kick off the relaunch. Nothing like a celebrity chef to convince rich parents that they’ve put their kids in the best camp.”
“I can’t wait to see what you’ve done with the place.”
“Let’s grab your bags and hit the road. Natalie is dying to get her hands on you.”
When he turned the shiny new camp van onto the camp road an hour later, I wasn’t prepared for the pang that echoed through my chest at the updated camp sign. It had clearly been designed by a professional with the kitschy national park font overlaid on a silhouette of oaks. It was stylish but welcoming, and it was nothing like the old weather-beaten sign that had hung slightly askew at the camp turnoff every year I’d come here as a kid.
I worried for a minute that my whole week would be me missing the way things used to be, but as we turned onto the camp road, a wave of nostalgia so strong I could have canoed it washed over me. The view was the same, the tall evergreens and oaks muting the strong spring sun until the road opened into the familiar bowl of Camp Oak Crest.
“Wow.” I peered through the windshield and tried to take it all in at once. Everything was where I remembered it; the office right next to the parking lot, the mess hall behind it, the flagpole flying the American flag with the Virginia seal below it. But shiny new green roofs gleamed over freshly painted red doors, and each building looked hewn from new lumber.
Ben climbed down to get my bags from the back. I opened my door and stepped out, taking in the fresh earth and pine smell of Oak Crest.
“Tabitha!”
I heard Natalie before I saw her, but I no sooner had my feet on the ground than she was sweeping me up into a giant hug. Since she was wearing her one-year-old daughter on her chest, I got a two-fer as Juniper gave a happy squeak.
“I can’t believe you’re finally here. Ben, will you grab her stuff?” she called over her shoulder to her husband. “Come on, I’ll show you to our guest cabins. You’re going to die.”
“It’s good to see you too, Nat. Ben, it’s okay, I can bring my bags.”
“Nope. We’re going farther than you think we are. We need bikes.” She led me around behind the office to a row of thick-tired beach cruisers, shiny paint jobs glinting in the sun. One of them had a baby seat attached, and Natalie unwrapped Juniper and popped her into it as she began a steady stream of chatter.
“The one big change we’ve made is adding new guest cabins, but we put them on the far side of the lake. That way we can use them for guests in the off-season. Leaf-peepers, corporate retreats, stuff like that. It’s about a half-mile down, so we have bikes whe
n people don’t want to walk. Juniper loves it.” She clicked the last buckle into place on the little girl’s seat. “Ready?”
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d ridden a bike but breathing the Oak Crest air and listening to Natalie’s chatter peeled about ten years off my age. It took me back to the time when I’d been as ready for an adventure as Natalie was. I slung my leg over the nearest bike, a shiny red one, and rested my foot on the pedal. “Ready.”
She set an easy pace through the trees and the trail was flat, but there was still something exhilarating about the soft brush of the breeze we stirred up over my cheeks, containing hints of summer. It reminded me of every first day of camp I’d ever had here. As a camper, I’d come in each year as a bundle of nerves on the first day, hoping I’d make friends again. As a counselor, I’d tumbled out of the shuttle the week before the season opened, full of excitement, waiting to see my friends after a year apart at college. Summer never felt like it had started until I’d hugged Natalie, Ben, and Adam.
I was glad I had a few minutes to process the absence of Adam while we biked. He’d been one of the best parts of camp until he was the worst. It was hard to feel that tug of nostalgia for him too—for who Tabitha and Adam were before we fractured completely into pieces no amount of duct tape or smores or band-aids or Calamine lotion or any other camp remedies could fix.
It was an old wound and an old scar, and I pushed Adam out of my mind and forced myself to be present, to feel every sense because all of them tingled. I could even taste a freshness in the air, something I hadn’t experienced since…well, since the last time I was at Oak Crest.
With a whoop and a laugh, I stood and pedaled hard, passing Natalie and rattling out from the forest path to the lake shore a couple of seconds before her, and I stopped my bike, standing and taking in the sight in front of me. Eight new cabins stretched along the edge of the forest, from cozy bungalows to two-story cabins, set about fifty yards back from the lake.
Another rooftop—green, not red like these—poked up even farther back up the gentle slope of the forest, but it was hidden and probably not related. It was hard to say how far away it was, but it looked like it was beyond the camp boundaries. It made me sad, a little, to think about the woods being developed, even for weekend homes.
A new dock stretched out from the bank of the lake too. I glanced toward camp to reassure myself that the old one was still there, the one that had launched countless canoes over the last fifty years. It was hard to tell from a distance, but it looked as if it had been upgraded too.
“This is impressive,” I said, as Natalie stopped beside me. “Smart to generate income during the off-season too.”
“Yeah. Mr. Warren only liked kids and not the parents. He never wanted to expand the business, but we’ve got some cool ideas. That’s part of what attracting some of the big dollar parents this weekend is about. We want to woo them into coming back for another family vacation later. Or think about us for corporate retreats and stuff.” She waved at the cabins. “Anyway, pick one and it’s yours for the week.”
I didn’t have to think about it. I pointed at the bungalow furthest from the water and nearest the woods. “That one.”
She slipped a key from her back pocket and grinned. “It’s possible I knew exactly which one you would pick and only brought that key.”
I laughed at her then cocked my head at the distant whine of an engine.
“That’s Ben on the ATV with your luggage. I couldn’t let you deprive him of driving that thing everywhere he can think of.”
“You’re doing a fantastic job of making me feel like literally every single way I’m inconveniencing you guys is exactly what you wanted. I think you kids have a bright future.”
Her return smile was wide and genuine. “We love having you here. You couldn’t be an inconvenience if you tried.”
I lifted an eyebrow at her. “Is that a dare?”
“No, thank you! I’ll never be dumb enough to give you a dare again.” She set the bike’s kickstand, so I did the same, and followed her when she hefted Juniper on her hip and headed toward the cabin I’d picked. “Let’s get you settled.”
“Natty! This is amazing,” I squealed when I stepped into my new digs behind her. “It looks like Pottery Barn threw up in here but in the best possible way.”
She laughed. “You’re not wrong. That was the goal. Effortless, rustic chic. We hired a designer, and he made these places come to life. I’ll take you on a tour of the other cabins before the rest of the guests arrive later this week.”
The ATV grew louder outside, announcing Ben’s arrival with my luggage.
“I’ll show you around while he gets your stuff unloaded.”
The cabin was fairly small, less than a thousand square feet, but it contained a full kitchen, a cozy living room with fireplace and bookshelves stocked with board games and books but no TV in sight. The bedroom was a master suite, the bathroom complete with a huge, old-fashioned copper tub that I already yearned to soak in while I stared out at the trees through the picture window. Every room was full of soft throw blankets, cozy wood and leather furniture, and pillows and rugs that begged to be touched.
“It’s perfect,” I said. “I love that you don’t even have TVs here.”
“TD,” Juniper chirped, the first word I’d heard her say beyond her cheerful babble. “Mickey Mouse.”
“The big cabins do. There’s no cable, but we have a large library of DVDs. Cell service is as bad as ever, and no internet out here either,” Natalie added. “But if you need it, come up to the office anytime. You can use the internet there.”
“That’s great. I’ve felt so plugged into my life lately. It’ll be good to have a valid reason why I can’t return my manager’s phone calls for a week.”
“Or your sister’s?” Natalie asked, a knowing look on her face.
“Don’t you therapize me.” I scooped up a pillow and shook it at her in a fake threat. Juniper clapped her hands and giggled. If there was anyone in the world I’d talk to about my hard things though, it was Natalie, who actually was a trained therapist. “Are you okay about leaving your practice behind?” I asked. She’d had a thriving practice in Washington DC, and Ben had been a rising star at a huge law firm before they’d decided to buy Camp Oak Crest.
“I’m at peace,” she said. “I remember how many times I spent talking campers and other counselors down when we were kids. I think that’s what led me to my career. And I’ll have plenty of opportunities to do it again this summer.”
“It’s true. Camp never lacks for drama.” Getting the lowdown on other people’s drama was one of the fun parts of camp. It had been far less fun when I’d become the drama during my last summer. “Actually, maybe I do need a little therapy. It’s been more of a mind trip coming back here than I expected.”
“You feeling okay?”
I shrugged. “I guess. I don’t know. Some Adam memories coming up.” Natalie and Ben had a front row seat to everything back then, so I didn’t have to fill in the details. They’d stayed friends with Adam, but they were careful not to bring him up around me. It wasn’t that I got mad when I heard his name or anything. It was more… “I haven’t thought of him much these last several years. And suddenly he’s in every other memory I’m having right now.”
“How does that feel?” Natalie asked. “Do you want to explore that or shut it down?”
“There’s nothing to explore,” I said. “I’m clear on what I felt then and now. It’s just weird having old memories come up.”
“Because they bring up old feelings?”
“No.” Yes. I didn’t like it.
“Okay. For what it’s worth, my advice is to sit with the memories and the feelings. It’s when you try to push them out of the way that you run into trouble. It means you aren’t dealing with them, and they’ll always bubble up somewhere else in ways you don’t want them to.”
“Nah. I think I’ll just keep myself so busy that I don�
�t feel a thing.”
“Very healthy,” she said dryly. “I’ll leave you to get settled.” She headed toward the door. “The camp cook will handle dinner tonight so you can check out her skills. She’s awesome. Or at least, I think she is? I guess you’re the expert.”
“I’m sure she’s great.” I wasn’t worried about it. I’d earned a reputation for running a fun but tight ship very early in my kitchen career, and I could get the staff where I needed them to be by the gala dinner on Friday.
“Head up to the office whenever you’re ready. I know you won’t relax until you know the schedule. Then you can take the rest of the day off before it gets crazy tomorrow.”
Even though we only talked every few months and saw each other even less, the feeling of being seen—that deep down in my core being seen—by someone who knew me and loved me for exactly what she saw thrummed up through my belly and chest. I threw my arms around her, catching Juniper in another hug that made her squeak.
“It’s so good to see you,” I said. I knew I’d already said it, but I needed to say it as my old self. As the goofy, unpolished Tabby Cat who’d shared a cabin with Natalie for four summers, before I was topping bestseller lists and getting my own show. Before people paid a premium for my time and talents. Before I had fooled the world into thinking I was cool. I needed a hug from someone who knew the dork I still was deep down.
“I know,” she said. “I feel the same. But Tabs?” A rare look of uncertainty flickered across her face and disappeared.
“What?”
“I think maybe this whole week goes better if you go make peace with the ghosts. Do a little exorcism and maybe you won’t feel like memories are waiting to pounce on you from every corner.”
“I’ll think about it,” I said.
“See you later.” She slipped out and closed the door behind her with a final little wave.
As soon as she left, I marched into the bedroom and turned back the comforter. Sure enough, Ben had shortsheeted the bed. I turned Natalie’s advice over in my mind as I remade it.