“It’s your job.”
Kia handed the binoculars back to Sullivan, sitting close to her again, as though they could share the binoculars like sharing earbuds. Sullivan admired the bird.
“Hello, you fine fellow,” she said. “Would you like to get gourmazed?”
“You make it sound like I’m going to eat him. Wait, do we have to go vegan?”
“It’s a responsible choice, but we could do what I do now and buy sustainably and humanely raised meat. I know it’s a big pivot. And you don’t have to make my thing be your thing. That wasn’t the deal.”
Kia leaned toward Sullivan and whispered in her ear, “Neither was living with you or having sex with you.” It felt so easy to be with Sullivan. She’d stopped worrying about whether her flirting was perfect. She could be totally herself. Maybe she’d take a picture of herself and Sullivan on her digital camera. Thosepictures were always taken alone, and it was wonderful to be herself around another person. Being authentically yourself made it easier to dream. Challenges that would have seemed insurmountable or worries—like the lawsuit—that would have devastated her before felt manageable. Maybe it was because being with Sullivan reminded Kia that Kia was herself, no matter what happened. No one could take that away from her.
“Maybe I’ll be an environmentalist influencer,” Sullivan said. “Did you know that the blue heron’s eyes turn red during mating season?”
Did you know I love you?Kia looked at Sullivan and tried to press the words into Sullivan’s mind.Love me back.
chapter 29
Sullivan was preparedto let the She-Pack handle the cooking. Just because she owned a restaurant didn’t mean she should rob people of the pleasure of cooking beans in the cans they came in. But as soon as they returned to the campsite, one of Opal’s friends hurried over, pointing to a picnic table loaded with ingredients.
“You don’t have to take your work on vacation, but if you’d like to give us a hand…”
This time, it wasn’t a competition at opposite ends of the bar. Kia and Sullivan surveyed the supplies and planned the menu. Apple-stuffed vegan sausages. Marshmallow-glazed beef burgers. Flame-grilled summer squash and green beans.
Kia seemed to have every spice imaginable in the RV. When Sullivan commented that her seared iceberg salad needed a hint of za’atar, Kia rolled her eyes. “Did you forget your za’atar, Chef? I can help you. Do you want a Middle Eastern blend or a North African blend? But I’m only sharing if you put some crushed Corn Nuts on your salad. They’re America’s crouton.”
“Isn’t the crouton America’s crouton?” Sullivan joked.
“Oh, Chef, have you forgotten everything we learned about the croûton?”
With that she skipped off, blowing a kiss to Sullivan, and returning a moment later with two spice jars.
“Hello, my friends,” Sullivan said, taking the jars from Kia. “You don’t want to season Corn Nuts, do you?”
“I love the way you talk to your food.” Kia made a heart with her hands and held it over her chest. “You can always talk to my za’atar blends.”
They cooked for an hour, maybe more. Sullivan lost herself in the satisfaction of snapping green beans and the smell of charcoal grills heating up. Everyone agreed it was the best campsite food ever, with the campers getting up for seconds and thirds until the improvised buffet tables were almost empty.
“That’s what I like.” Sullivan kissed her fingertips and let out a smack. “No waste.”
“But everyone got enough,” Kia added.
“Perfect.” Sullivan put her arm around Kia.
Kia snuggled closer, and Sullivan felt full of anticipation for what the night would bring but also completely at peace. She could sit here forever watching the sparks dance and then go out.
“There’s stuff for s’mores, but someone else has to get it ready,” Sullivan said.
Opal and three other people jumped up with a chorus of “you’ve done enough” and “can I get you another drink?” Someone brought Kia and Sullivan two marshmallow skewers and plates of chocolate and graham crackers. Kia and Sullivan teased each other for the entertainment of the crowd, riffing on Sullivan’s plan to char the Hershey’s chocolate bars to make a mole drizzle and Sullivan groaning in horror as Kia melted Cheetos into s’mores. The children decided Cheetos s’mores was the best food ever eaten by human beings.
“To our chefs.” Opal raised a beer. “To one of the sweetest couples I know.”
The team and their families echoed her toast.
From across the campfire, Opal caught Sullivan’s eyes.Because they’d been friends since they were making mud pies, Opal conveyed and Sullivan understood everything without words. Love and warning. Worry and hope. A dash ofthis would be so much simpler if you’d just gone out with my cousin from Savannah.
Kia didn’t ask Opal to repeat her toast so she could get it on camera. Kia just wrapped her arm around Sullivan’s and snuggled closer.
“I adore you, baby, but you’re still wrong about the Cheetos,” Kia said.
