Page 76 of Josh’s Play

Cam laughed when the song ended. “Guess we’re learning something new about each other today.”

“What’s that?”

“We both suck at singing!”

“Hey!”

I didn’t turn to look, but I could sense that Cam was staring at me. “Okay, yeah, you’re right,” I reluctantly agreed.

The GPS announced that I needed to make the next right.

“But don’t listen to her after that. It will take you the back way around the fields.”

“Gotcha. You can be my GPS from here on out.” This resulted in Campbell using an adorable electronic voice to keep me headed in the right direction.

“Turn right at the next random patch of dirt that almost looks like a road.”

As we neared the farm, I became more nervous about meeting Campbell’s parents, but I managed a chuckle. Generally, my friends’ parents loved me, and though Cam never spoke poorly about his, I still assumed that they had issues with him being gay.

We turned onto a long dirt road, and I asked, “How do you want to play this this weekend?”

“Play this? I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I know you're out to them, but if it’s easier, we could say we’re just friends. You could play it off like I was the guy with a car available.” I shrugged, hoping to give off a no big deal vibe.

“Josh, my parents basically already know about you. Plus, I … I want to tell them. The whole point of this trip was so we could tell them, so we can stop hiding. At least a little bit. Would you rather we didn’t? Oh God, I thought it went well with your parents. Did it not go well? Should I be worried?”

Shit, I was trying to make things easier for him, and clearly I was making things worse. “Cam, babe. No, forget I mentioned it. I just wanted to make sure that you were ready.”

He took hold of the hand I had resting on the console. “I’m ready,” he said with resolve but with something more as well. It sounded like wonder.

His silly voice returned. “Remain on this road for ten point two minutes before making a left onto the access road for Pond View Acres.” In his actual voice, Cam added, “there are pillars on either side of the road with the name on it since GPS is shit out here. You can see the vegetable stand from the road as well.”

We chatted amicably for the short remainder of the drive, and I found myself wishing we could be together, joking and talking, all day every day.

I don’t know why I was expecting the Ryans’ farm to be run-down; maybe it was because of Campbell’s seemingly constant worries about money. My first clue that it wasn't was that the vegetable stand was actually a small, enclosed shop. I commented to Cam that the stand was actually a building, and he explained how his parents had taken out a second mortgage to build cabins and spruce up some buildings in order to start their agritourism business.

He pointed to the Pond View Acres General Store. “This area was the vegetable stand back in the day.”

“Like the gym,” I responded.

“What gym?”

It was my turn to explain why my family called a bedroom with two perfectly normal beds in it the gym.

“Families, right?” Cam joked, and I laughed along, my nerves calming to match his seemingly calm state.

We traversed the long drive, and before long, I was looking at a charming farmhouse, painted white with green trim that matched the color of the barn behind it. In the distance was a second barn, this one a more rustic natural wood. The long gravel drive was lined on one side with fencing, enclosing an expansive field peppered with cows, beyond which evenly planted evergreen trees served as a backdrop. The land spread out on the other side of the drive as well, where it appeared rows of crops were just beginning to sprout. Beyond that were rows of neatly planted deciduous trees.

As we approached the house, the small pond became visible behind it, a dense wooded area beyond that.

“You’ve got a forest too!” I joked. The woods beyond the pond seemed much vaster than the little patch of greenery behind my parents’ house. “It’s even more beautiful than the pictures.”

I’d slowed the car almost to a stop to admire it, and Cam pulled my hand over the console again. I could sense him looking at my face even as I stared at the picture-perfect scene in front of me.

“I hoped you’d like it. It’s really special up here.” With my hand in his, he started pointing. “You saw the pasture back there, with the Christmas tree farm behind it. In the winter we do carriage rides. On this side”—he guided my hand and pointed out his window—“there are strawberries and various vegetables. You can pick your own or stop at the stand. The trees back there are Empire apples. This is the main house, obviously. The second mortgage helped build the party barn”—our joint fingers pointed to the natural wood barn—“and we have seven cabins on the property, like for weddings and stuff. Some people treat the cabins like a hotel when visiting the area, and some come to work on the farm for a week or whatever. We haven’t had a wedding yet, but there’s one booked for this summer!”

“I remember you telling me about agritourism. It sounded really interesting. People really spend their vacation up here working?”