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“Of course not,” she answers, frowning, her eyes darting to mine for the barest moment. “Why would you ask that?”
I duck under a low branch. The path we’re on can barely be called that, mostly reclaimed by the wild in the last years, but it’s leading us unerringly toward the cabin ahead of us.
“I stole you from Main Street Flowers.”
Celeste laughs, a shadow of the usual, lighthearted sound. “I think they were relieved, honestly. They’ve never said anything, but I think they know by now that I don’t want to take over the shop when they retire.”
I chuckle. “Retire? They’ll never retire.”
This time, her laugh is almost normal. “Yeah, probably not. But no, they don’t hate you. I’m sure they’re grateful for the opportunity you’ve given me.” Her voice lowers as she ducks her chin. “I’m grateful, too.”
I hear what she’s not adding to that sentence—that she’s afraid what happened Saturday night has messed it all up… that she’s worried we won’t be able to handle running the camp together. That all of this will blow up in our faces.
I wish I could tell her it won’t.
“You signed a two-year employment contract,” I tell her instead, unable to help the disgruntled rasp in my voice. “Unless you decide to stop showing up, I can’t fire you. If I did, you could sue me for wrongful termination. But it’s a moot point. I’m not firing you, Celeste. We’re adults. I think we’re both mature enough to maintain a professional working relationship.”
When she doesn’t say anything, I glance up to find her eyes on mine. I can count on one hand the number of times I haven’t been able to read her expression in our lives, and this is one of them.
“What?” The word comes out more harshly than I intend for it to, but there’s no helping it. I want to touch her so badly my fingers curl into fists at my sides.
Instead of answering, she just shakes her head and hurries forward. The cabin is close now. From this direction, it looks intact, if a bit sad. Dark, dusty windows. Leaf and debris-strewn porch and a small dock. The other side, I know, is far worse where the tree fell, concaving a section of the roof. It was a damn good thing the place was vacant when it happened because it flattened what used to be the bedroom.
It takes another twenty steps before I realize what Celeste’s inscrutable look was for. What it meant.
Just as I know every nuance of her face and voice, she knows mine.
And what I revealed is exactly what I felt saying those words to her. I don’t want to maintain a professional working relationship.
What I want is her.
Once Celeste peers through a few windows to see the destruction inside the cabin, she gives up on her mission of getting inside. I trail behind her as she walks the short path to the dock.
“What do you think about having local kids repaint the side of the Art Barn?” she asks, toeing loose rock and dirt a few inches from the waterline. “Giving them a chance to make their mark on the camp that will be theirs?”
Raising a hand to shade my eyes from the sun, I stare at the side of her face. My tongue is bitter and wants to ask if she’s trying to erase what we created. But at least I’m self-aware enough to keep my mouth shut.
Nothing that’s bothering me is her fault. Not my ex-business partner trying to squeeze more money out of our deal. Not my friend who’s house-sitting for me in Seattle wondering when the fuck I’ll be home. Not my mom and the cold shoulder she’s been giving me the last few days.
Not the sheets I haven’t washed yet because they still smell like Celeste…
“Sounds good,” I manage, then walk a bit south along the shore.
Turning my face to the sun, I close my eyes and suck the dry air into my lungs. The gentle lapping of the water against wood and rock is its own kind of music. Lulled by the sound, I close my eyes and let time wind backward. I hear young voices laughing, squealing, giggling. Arguing in the dining hall, chatting in the line for the showers, whispering in the dark, trading secrets, expelling their hopes and fears…
A little bit of the heaviness inside me shears off.
“Feel that, Peapod?” I take another deep breath. “Summer is right around the corner.”
“Too bad the lake never warms up.”
I snort. “You’re such a wuss. Always have been.”
The last word is barely out when a spray of freezing water hits my back, immediately soaking through my T-shirt to my skin. I spin, only to get another spray of water from her wily foot, this time aimed higher. Droplets spatter over my face and chest. I’m so shocked, I hardly register the crazy grin on her face.
“You did not just do that.”
She cackles, drawing her leg back for another kick. I’m faster.
