“Twenty-seven sounds good. But now I’m stressed I won’t find anyone cool enough to marry when I’m twenty-seven.”
“Let’s make a deal. If we aren’t married by the time we’re thirty, we’ll marry each other and save each other from being Director Warren andNurse Debbie.” The last part he said in his fake sexy voice, and I gave him a light punch on the arm.
“A backup plan. I like it. But only if you promise never to do that voice again.”
“Deal,” he said. “And now we have to seal it with a kiss.” Then he dragged me behind the nearest empty cabin and made me forget all about the director and the nurse.
Chapter 9
Present
Istepintothescruffy clearing of Moon Rock. It’s almost full dark, and I need the flashlight as I study the space, smaller now than in memory. This is the only place I’ve still been nervous to come back to because this is where I fell for Sawyer first, and later, where I fell even deeper.
My words at the fire ceremony had felt true, but this is where I’ll find out if I meant them. If I can stare down the memories here, then I can let the last of them go. Turn the page on all of this. Or better yet, close the book entirely and start a new one.
I walk the perimeter of the clearing, my shoes scuffing the dirt. I don’t need any kind of ceremony here. I only need to prove to myself that it doesn’t matter like it used to.
The memories do come back, and I climb on top of the medium-sized boulder and sit with my arms around my knees and let them. I remember how it felt to be with Sawyer, so excited to see him, every moment breathless as I waited for whatever might happen between us next. The next touch. Or kiss. Or confession. All of it was so…
Young.
I look out at the lake and a smile sneaks out. I try to name the feeling behind it. It’s a feeling of…affection? For twenty-year-old Tabitha, young and smitten, sure of what comes next in life, giddy about her boy.
She didn’t know, couldn’t know, how fast things can change. That change is the only constant. That it’s always survivable, no matter what it is. And that Sawyer’s rejection isn’t going to shape or define her. That she’ll go on to a bright future. She’ll even become good friends with Grace one day.
It’s affection for my old self’s innocence and naivete. And forgiveness too, for not seeing what was coming next with Sawyer and bailing before it all crashed and burned. I feel forgiveness too for twenty-year-old Sawyer, who was only a kid. It’s impossible to sit here at twenty-nine and resent the behavior of a boy who had been barely out of his teens.
I think about the ashes from the fire ceremony swirling over the lake. By now, they’ll have drifted down to its surface and disappeared beneath it. They’re gone. Out there. And inside me.
I stand and stretch, reaching my arms as high as I can, as if I could touch the moon and pull it down. It’s a way of stepping into my full self, the one who doesn’t carry around the petty hurts of childhood.
Then I sit down and reach for my tote bag, because I may have let go of the petty hurts, but pranks are pretty good for the soul too. And I owe some people.
It takes a minute to figure out my lighting situation, but making a weird side bun in my hair and tucking my small Maglite in it for an improvised headlamp works well enough. I open my notebook to a new page: How to Get Natalie and Ben to Crack.
This is going to take finesse to pull off, because there’s an art to the perfect prank. Not hurting people or property is a baseline. Truly great pranks go beyond that. They require creativity, a knowledge of the victim, excellent timing, and a deep, deep well of patience.
It takes me a while to figure out how to set up all the different threads and weave them together, but an hour later, I put down my pen, stretch my back, read over my plan, and…
Cackle. Evilly.
No regrets.
***
The woodland gods of Camp Oak Crest smile on me the very next morning when I wake before dawn, not even needing my alarm. I slip into shorts and a tank top and grab the bottle of bubble bath from beside the tub.
Ten swift minutes through the forest later, and I reach the edge of Sawyer’s property. Or the property where he’s staying, anyway. The windows are all dark, and there’s enough predawn light to see that no steam rises from the hot tub in the cool morning air, which means it isn’t running. Perfect.
It won’t be enough to get Ben and Natalie to confess they’re hiding him. Sawyer’s in on whatever this is, so he’s sealed his own fate.
I run across the clearing to the stairs leading up to the hot tub and reach into my bag for my first tool: the bottle of rose-scented bubble bath from my cottage bathroom. Then I pull out the extra one from the small bathroom cupboard and add it too. It will lay there, dormant, until the next time Sawyer decides to use the hot tub, and then…Sud City.
He gave me the idea, after all. Year Two, his cabin of boys had poured liquid dish soap into the dishwasher when my girls had KP duty, generating an enormous flood of bubbles in the kitchen and an extra hour of cleanup for my annoyed campers.
Then quick as a squirrel, I run back to the woods and off to do my spying. Entire empires have been brought down by people listening at doors. It won’t be hard to figure out what Ben and Natalie are up to now that I know they’re up to something. They’re both terrible liars if you know what to look for.
I start at the office. Natalie gave me a key in case I wanted to get in and use the landline or computer. Cell service is as spotty as ever out here, but they’re keeping in touch with Sawyer somehow, or we’d have crossed paths already.
