Back in the kitchen, the whole time I work, I replay the last three days with Sawyer in my mind. From the minute he appeared on the porch with Ben and Natalie to his caress in the nurse’s office, I turn over every look, every word, every touch.
The intensity in even our simplest interactions makes my pulse race. Or pound? I don’t know. Why can’t I tell the difference? Shouldn’t I know this?
I channel my anxiety into cracking and beating the eggs. The cheesecakes will need to start baking soon to give them time to cool, then chill, and once I have them all in the oven, I can move on to prepping the corn cakes, which will also need to chill before baking.
At five-thirty, Lisa orders me home to get ready. I’ll oversee the dinner service, but instead of my usual comfy kitchen clothes beneath my smock, I’ll wear a dress, so I look decent when Ben brings me out to introduce me to the dinner guests.
At six o’clock, I rush back to the kitchen, and the mad dash begins. I love this part of every dinner service, the moment where I feel the energy kick up a notch in preparation for the incoming diners.
I want to do an especially good job tonight and treat Ben and Natalie to the most delicious meal of their lives so they can see how far I’ve come since the days when I’d cooked camp dinners in the old kitchen.
And Sawyer. It matters to me what he thinks. More than it should for someone I haven’t seen in nine years. And who I’m rebuilding a chat-over-juice-box friendship with.
It matters more than it should that I haven’t seen him since yesterday morning in the nurse’s office. That I keep finding excuses to work by the window in case I catch a glimpse of him outside. That I’m bummed when a crew of counselors comes in to decorate the lodge interior, and he’s not there giving them orders.
The muted voices coming through the swinging kitchen doors grow louder as more guests arrive, and at seven o’clock, Ben’s voice sounds on the PA system, welcoming everyone to this dinner with a menu designed and overseen by Camp Oak Crest graduate and celebrity chef…me.
I grin at Lisa as I slide the first plated sweet corn tamale cake onto a tray. “Let’s go.” She grins back, and we’re off, buzzing and darting around the kitchen for the next hour as we send out appetizers then dinners.
The counselors doubling as servers bring back a stream of compliments as they flit in and out, and finally, as the energy in the kitchen simmers down, Natalie pops in.
“I know you’re sending out dessert soon. We’d like to bring you out with it. Ten minutes enough time?”
“Plenty.”
“Ben will call your name, and we’ll have you come through the doors followed by the platters of cheesecake.”
“Got it.” The servers are filling the rolling carts with sheets of plated desserts, so I duck into the broom closet, shuck off my chef smock, and trade my kitchen Crocs for red heels.
I’m gladder than ever that I packed them even though I’d dithered in New York over whether they were too much for a night like this. But I love an excuse to go glam, and since I had to keep the rest of my outfit simple beneath the smock, the four-inch strappy sandals are a gorgeous counterpoint.
I walk to the head of the queuing servers and listen to the door until I hear, “We’d love to bring out one of Camp Oak Crest’s most illustrious alums, Chef Tabitha Winters!”
I step through the doors to the applause of the seventy-five guests, smiling and waving as I make my way to the front of the mess hall. It’s been transformed into a high-end venue with tulle swaths, twinkle lights, and wildflowers, and I join Ben at the mic.
“Let her know how much you’ve enjoyed your first meal at Camp Oak Crest so far!” Ben orders into the mic, and the applause swells again.
“Thank you, guys,” I say, doing the “settle down” gesture after several seconds. “Our counselors are bringing you our reimagined s’mores cheesecake with a chocolate ganache and house-made marshmallows. Part of the reason I know how to pull off a dinner like this is because of the opportunities I got as a camper, then counselor, here at Camp Oak Crest.
"Your kids will thrive here under the care and leadership of Ben and Natalie Mendoza, and we thank you for the generous donations that will allow even more kids to experience the magic these two incredible people are making here. Please enjoy your desserts!”
I step away from the mic to accept a hug from Natalie, who escorts me to a seat next to her at the head table, where I end up with Sawyer on my other side.
“Hey,” he says, as I settle into my seat. “Dinner was incredible, but not half as amazing as you look.”
“Thanks.” The compliment makes my cheeks feel as warm as they did when I was standing over the gas range searing the steaks. I feel like I want to jump out of my skin, but I force myself through quiet calming breaths as a counselor sets a slice of dessert in front of each of us.
I’m not about to confess this will be my third piece today, but dang, I make a good cheesecake. I’m not skipping this. “Everything been okay out here?”
“Great,” he says. “We’ve even had several people increase their donation after spending the day doing camp activities.”
Ben is speaking again. “And now to bring up our partner who has made a dream come true for Natalie and me, I’d like to present the developer of this project and many other sustainable green space projects around the country, Sawyer Reed!”
Sawyer gives a soft but distinctly annoyed curse. “He was supposed to leave me out of it,” he grumbles, but he pastes on a smile and stands. He tries to acknowledge everyone with a wave, but Ben’s gesturing for him to come up.
As Sawyer makes his way over, Ben continues, “Sawyer has worked tirelessly over the last six months to secure enough donations to fund one hundred kids over the course of the summer, kids whose lives will be changed forever, like all of ours were.”
“He raised all that on his own,” Natalie whispers, her eyes shining as she watches Sawyer walk up.
