I didn’t have a response to that. A long-lost feeling tightened my chest, as though I’d been missing something for more than was reasonably acceptable. I used to be a lot more lighthearted. Maybe it just came with being older. Maybe it was for another reason.
I made my strides slower, and she met me without saying anything. It felt as if I was living under a ticking clock. Who knew how many more minutes until we’d be to her cabin, one pod over from mine?
“How did this place come to be, anyway?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“It’s kind of a long story.”
“And we have kind of a long walk.”
Autumn nodded as her foot broke a branch, but she took a beat before continuing, almost as if she was resigned to giving me what I wanted. “After Stanford, I worked some odd jobs. I waited tables for a bit, did the barista thing—as you now know, that’s how I met Jack. He was a contractor and did a bunch of odd jobs around Palo Alto and Stanford and was on a site nearby. We hit it off quickly and were friends for a couple of years before Hazel and Leo reached out.” She twirled a piece of her hair between her fingers and continued. “He knew Hazel from his hometown, so they were already friends. They told me about their vision, and I couldn’t sleep the next few nights thinking about it. It was such an amazing idea, building something like this. Constructing something that would bring joy to people’s lives. I mean, I might not have dreamed that big back then, but I’ve been told so manytimes over the years about the magic of this camp that I have to believe it.”
I imagined what it’d be like, me working through my first years as a lawyer, her creating something like this and coming away as she was now: happy. It hurt hearing about these things I had no part in—because Iwouldhave been involved, cheering her on from the sidelines and showing up to support her as she built this wonderful thing. I could picture everything as if I were staring through a department store window, watching them decorate for Christmas and knowing I’d never be able to afford to go inside.
“The camp was Hazel and Leo’s baby, but they couldn’t have done this without me and Jack. And they’ve recognized that a million times over.”
This was new. Autumn had always been overly humble, never taking credit for what she deserved, never admitting she was crucial to anything. Back on the debate team, she’d acted like she was just a part of a group, but she’d been the one winning at meets over and over. I loved that this part of her had changed.
“Is it weird to say that I’m proud of you for what you built here?” I cleared my rapidly closing throat. “The more time I spend in this place, the more I’m amazed by it. You did a remarkable thing.”
Even in the dark, I could see the slight blush on her cheeks. She didn’t respond right away, as though she was trying to fight downplaying it, but she chose not to.
“Thank you. It wasn’t easy.”
“And you like being here? Like, that’s your plan?”
She looked at me, a wistfulness to her stare. She was feeling me out. I had to fix whatever negative thoughts permeated her consciousness.
“Not that you need a plan, but if it is, it seems like a good one.” Still nothing. “This camp is obviously successful.”
“Tell that to my parents.” The words were a whisper on her lips that she corrected quickly, almost as if she hoped I hadn’t heard. The Autumn I knew had been desperate for her dad and stepmom’s approval, so I could only imagine how things had gone over after she’d dropped out. But she’d made this decision anyway. Yet another way in which she’d changed. “It is successful. In our first year, we sold out. Now we have a waiting list a mile long.”
“Ren told me. He was surprised he got us in.” He’d used it as a reason I couldn’t back out “But Nancy and Robert must be impressed with how this place is doing, right?”
“They haven’t visited, actually.” She turned her head away, as if the dark trees were more interesting than the conversation we were having.
“I’m sorry, Autumn. That must hurt,” I said dumbly. That was shocking. They’d been wrapped up in everything she did, whether it was seeing her debate or going to her swim meets. Was this a message they were trying to send?
“I don’t think it’s so much about being disappointed as being too busy to prioritize it. But regardless, I’ve drilled the point home that I’m happy.”
“Well, they’re missing out,” I said, wanting to hug her but knowing that she’d never loved drawing more attention to herself after opening up. “What matters is you are proud of what you’ve accomplished. They have to see that. Anyone would.”
We’d been walking slower since we started talking, almost as if we couldn’t do two things at once, and I was worried she’d start walking faster, so I brought up the first thing that came into my head.
“Can I ask…”
She slowed her steps. “Ask what?”
“For those of you who are here all summer, it must be hard to—” I rubbed the back of my neck.
“You mean how does one get a partner when they’re traipsing through the woods all year?”
We had always been in sync with each other, but I wondered how transparent I’d been for her to draw that conclusion that quickly.
Autumn nodded slowly and sucked in a breath. “It’s really, really hard.”
“But Jack and Gia…”
“Are the exception. We joke about how the man who’s afraid of horses ended up with the horse girl.” She chuckled. “He says it was fate and that he was lucky Gia stopped by at all. She had a week left of her internship, and they got together,” she said, as if it made the most sense in the world.
