It’s complicated, so I pivot. “This week is about you. And Ben. And this place. Not my mom’s weird hang ups. I’m already in love with everything you’ve done here. And you look happy. But are you okay about leaving your practice behind?” She’d had a thriving practice in suburban DC before they’d decided to buy Camp Oak Crest.
“I’m at peace,” she says. “I spent so much time talking down campers and other counselors from emotional ledges when we were kids. It led me to my career. I’ll have plenty of opportunities to do it again all summer.”
“It’s true. Camp never lacks for drama.” Getting the lowdown on other people’s drama was one of the fun parts of camp. It had been far less fun when I’dbecomethe drama during my last summer. “You know, maybe Idoneed therapy. It’s been more of a mind trip coming back here than I expected.”
“You feeling okay?”
I pull at the tassel on a pillow while I think about this. “I don’t know.” Natalie and Ben had a front-row seat back then, so I don’t have to fill in the details. But it’s time for a confession. “I’ve kept up with him, you know. Not stalking level. But enough to know it’s probably Sawyer backing you.”
There’s a long silence before she says, “Wow. I don’t remember the last time I heard you say his name.”
“That’s not a denial.”
“You’re right. It’s not.” She meets my eyes, her expression calm. She’s letting me decide how much information I want.
“I’m not going to randomly bump into him?” I absolutely need a warning for something like that. “And he won’t be at the gala?”
“Honestly, he’s almost never here. He lives in Chicago, and like I said, we run things, and he signs the checks between flights to supervise his different projects. He’s super busy, plus he figured you’d probably prefer if he wasn’t at the gala.”
“He’s right.” Not that it would have been hard for him to guess. I’d rejected every call and deleted every message from him for months after everything went down. When he’d finally quit trying, I’d started breathing easier.
“We all figured you’re a much bigger deal than him for the gala fundraiser. You still okay being here?” Her eye lines deepen like she’s afraid I’ve changed my mind after setting foot in the camp.
“Yes. Totally. Or not totally. I knew I was going to have Sawyer flashbacks, but it’s pretty weird having him pop up in every other memory I’m having right now.”
“How does that feel?” Natalie asks. “Do you want to explore it or shut it down?”
“There’s nothing to explore,” I say. “I’m clear on what I felt then and now.”
“For what it’s worth, my advice is to sit with the memories and the feelings. It’s when you try to push them out of the way that you run into trouble. They’ll bubble up somewhere else in ways you don’t want them to.”
“Nah. I plan to keep myself so busy, I won’t feel a thing.”
“Very healthy.” Her tone is dry. “I’ll leave you to get settled.” She heads toward the door. “The camp cook will handle dinner tonight so you can check out her skills. She’s awesome. Or at least, I think she is? You’re the expert.”
“I’m sure she’s great.” I’m not worried about it. I earned a reputation for running a fun but tight ship early in my kitchen career, and I can get the staff where I need them to be by the gala dinner on Saturday.
“Head up to the office whenever you’re ready for the rest of the tour. I know you won’t relax until you know the schedule, so we’ll review it, then you can take the rest of the day off before it gets crazy tomorrow.”
Even though Natalie and I only talk every few weeks and see each other even less, the feeling of being seen—deep down in my core being seen—by someone who knows me and loves me for exactly who I am thrums up through my belly and chest. I throw my arms around her, catching Juniper in another hug that makes her squeak.
“It’s so good to see you.” I know I already said it, but I need to say it as my old self. As the goofy, unpolished “Tabby Cat” who’d shared a cabin with Natalie years before I was topping bestseller lists and getting my own show. Before people paid a premium for my time and talents. Before I had fooled the world into thinking I was cool. I need a hug from someone who knows the dork I still am deep down.
“I feel the same. But Tabs?” She draws back, and a rare look of uncertainty flickers across her face.
“What?”
“I’m serious about you making peace with the ghosts. Do an exorcism, and maybe you won’t feel like memories are waiting to pounce on you from every corner.”
“I’ll think about it,” I say.
“I hope you do.” She reaches for the door. “The new dock is open for all cabin guests. The trail behind the cabins leads to private property, so stay off that so we don’t annoy the neighbor. Otherwise, do whatever you want. I’ll see you later.” She slips out and closes the door behind her with a final wave.
As soon as she’s gone, I march into the bedroom and turn back the comforter. Sure enough, Ben short-sheeted the bed. I grin and remake it as I turn Natalie’s advice over in my mind.
No summer camp is complete without a good ghost story, but mine is a bad one I don’t want to resurrect. Yet every single one of my senses keeps pulling me back into the past, back to when I’d been happiest.
My mind dances away from the edges of the memories about Sawyer. There’s an old, dull throb when I think about how we’d gone up in flames like old wood on the last-night-of-camp bonfire.
