Christine pulled a face.
“Or sing songs?” Margaux tried again.
“How about a prayer before we start our meal?” Daniel asked.
Emma nodded and smiled at him, glad to catch his eye for a moment. He’d calmed the situation before tempers could rise. She admired him.
“Dear Lord, we thank You for the ways You look out for us. For the capable hands that wrapped up an injured friend’s wound. For the foresight to pack shelter and food for the night. For the time spent together with old friends to reconnect, however brief, and reflect. For finding peace in the midst of uncertainty. For this and for all the blessings You have bestowed upon us, we give You thanks and praise. Amen.”
“Amen,” the women said in unison.
Emma admired his steady faith most of all. He anchored his life with God and didn’t waver or bob.
“You’re on fire,” Margaux said with no modulation.
“Yeah, you are. Great job, Daniel. Thank you,” Emma added.
“No, Emma. Your hot dog is on fire,” Margaux said with animation.
Emma yanked back her hot dog and blew furiously on the flaming sausage. The flames abated. She was left with a charred hot dog. “Good thing I like them burnt.”
Christine tossed her the plastic bag of buns.
Emma prepared her hot dog and took a bite, before passing the rest of the buns down the line.
Daniel arched a brow.
“What? This is good. Try it.” Emma offered, extending the hot dog.
“No thanks.” He rotated his hot dog like a pig on a spit at a luau. “I prefer a thorough cooking method to be sure it’s properly heated.”
Emma liked the playfulness in their interactions. During the past few days, her stress levels had been at all-time highs. Being with him was easy. Across the fire, Christine shot her a knowing look. Emma blushed and took another bite.
“Do you think we’re safe out here?” Margaux asked.
For a long moment, only the night answered. Insects hummed. Birds sang. The fire snapped and popped.
Emma had been afraid to ask the question but felt it in her bones.
“Of course we are,” Daniel said. “I know we’re on edge after Jennifer’s accident?—”
“I don’t think it was an accident,” Christine interrupted, softly.
Emma swallowed her bite. “What do you mean?” How could it have been foul play? She’d been closest to Jennifer when it happened. If Jennifer had been pushed, wouldn’t Emma have been jostled, too?
“I think she saw the hole and knowingly stepped into it,” Christine said.
Emma couldn’t believe a best friend would accuse another of such a thing. “Why? That doesn’t make sense. Her yelp was ear piercing. She hobbled on the path. She didn’t fake her pain.”
Christine released a heavy exhale, the whoosh of the air almost as loud as the wind. “Her injury is real. She’s in self-sabotage mode and wanted to get out of here. Now, she’ll have a reason for her husband’s sympathy and attention.”
“Why?” Emma shouldn’t ask. None of this was her business. But if her friend was in pain, shouldn’t she help if she could?
“Because she’s convinced he’s having an affair,” Christine said. “For the record, I don’t think he is. But she won’t let it go. It’s why we were out looking for cell service the other day. I think she’s bored. Her kids are older and don’t need her as much. Her husband has a busy, demanding job. I want her to join me at my company. Give her something of her own. She needs to have her own life. But she won’t do it. Not much more I can do. I can’t force her.”
Emma finished her hot dog, letting the words wash over her. Loneliness and boredom were dangerous bedfellows. Jennifer had so much going for her, and she could be a light for so many, if given an opportunity. Everyone had gifts they could share to brighten the world and, in turn, lift their spirits. Service was the greatest kindness to both the recipient and the giver.
“Maybe we should tell ghost stories to lighten the mood,” Christine said.
