“I know.”
Sullivan read on. “Supplies: RV. Propane. Emergency power supply. Sixty-gallon freshwater tank. Snakebite kit. Bear spray. National Forest Service maps.” Sullivan laughed. “Where are we going?”
“Opal’s rugby team’s camping trip. She said it’s okay.”
“Digital compass. Magnetic compass. Book on using a compass?We can live off the grid with this stuff.”
Hearing the list out loud it did sound like overkill. “I carry most of this stuff anyway,” Kia lied.
“A magnetic compass and bear spray?”
“Okay. Not those. But you never know what’s out there in the woods.” Kia chuckled. “Fine, you probably know, but I don’t. Do you want to go or not? Don’t make me buy bear spray for nothing. Those sporting goods stores are terrifying.”
Sullivan jumped up and threw her arms around Kia.
“Of course I want to go. Thank you. I can’t wait.”
And Sullivan held on, her forehead resting on Kia’s shoulder. Nothing had ever felt as right or as natural to Kia as wrapping her arms around Sullivan and holding her.
“You’re welcome,” Kia whispered. The moment felt joyful and solemn, like hello and goodbye and a promise all at the same time.
Sullivan lifted her forehead from Kia’s, but she kept her arms around Kia’s waist.
“You talked to Opal about camping?” Sullivan asked.
“I asked her how I could take you camping without going too far into the wilderness. She told me the She-Pack was going on their annual camping trip, and they could only get a big campsite Sunday through Tuesday. It’s perfect. You’re off. Mirepoix is closed. And friends and family were all invited. There’ll be kids there so it can’t be too dangerous.”
“They bring children to distract the cougars while the adults get away.”
“Sullivan!” Kia slapped Sullivan’s chest gently.
“Don’t worry. It’ll be safer than crossing a street in New York.” Sullivan pulled Kia a little closer. “Now I know why Opal was asking if I’d talked to you about my birthday. It’s really special you’ve done this. I know camping’s not your thing.”
“That’s how much I like you.” The wordlikewas a sugar cube compared to the fantastic sugar sculptures in Kia’s heart.
“I like you too.” Sullivan kissed Kia’s nose. “And I have a present for you too.”
“But it’syourbirthday.”
“You’ll be gone by your birthday.” A shadow crossed Sullivan’s face for a second and then passed. “If we’re going camping, it really can’t wait.”
Sullivan led Kia to the back door and turned on the porchlight. Sullivan had set up a little canopy, like the kind that might house a small vendor table or a wedding couple prepared for a light rain. In its shelter, she’d placed a bistro table and two chairs. String lights, like the ones in the Mirepoix garden, warmed the space with their golden-white glow. A bottle of wine sat in an ice bucket between two glasses.
Even though it wasn’t on top of her RV yet, Kia recognized the 1968 Wind Searcher Pop-Up Pavilion immediately.
“Oh my god, Sullivan, how?”
Sullivan bounced on her toes, her excitement like a champagne tower about to spill over.
Kia approached the structure. She touched one of the supports. Embossed on the metal with a care no one would take with a modern RV were the wordsWIND SEARCHER POP-UP PAVILION.
“You found one! I have a Google Alert on them. If there’s one west of the Rockies I should know about it.” Kia jumped up and down with excitement like a little kid on Christmas morning. “Oh my god. Thank you, Sullivan! I’ve been looking for one for years. I showed you one picture and you found one IRL!”
“I saw it a minute or two after it went on Facebook marketplace. Then the guy selling it took it down.”
Kia threw her arms around Sullivan and squeezed her.
“Thank you. Thank you! Do I owe you any money? Whatever it cost—”
