“You’re definitely hitting higher numbers,” she said, looking up from the screen a few minutes later. “Are you tracking how much traffic is clicking through to your website from Instagram?”
“I am now. You know, you’ve never really talked about what you did for work,” he said, and she could hear the effort he was putting in to try to sound casual. “It seems like you must have a strong marketing background, and I was thinking maybe you work remotely, but then I remembered you said you were taking this time off. Plus, you know a lot about social media, but you have a history degree.”
“Iamtaking this time off.” She shrugged. “I’m a podcaster, though it’s not something I tell a lot of people.”
“Why would you—” He broke off and chuckled. “I guess everybody has a great idea for a podcast, right? Like, sometimes when we’re around people we don’t really know, Danny will tell people he works at a bookstore.”
“At least it’s close to the truth.”
“Yeah, for a while he was telling people he was an accountant because he thought it was boring and nobody would want to talk about it, but then people would ask him tax questions and he was afraid he’d get them sent to prison.”
Hannah laughed, shaking her head. “Never take tax advice from people who get paid to write lies.”
“What is your podcast about? History?”
“History, but with a focus on historical true crime events.” She smiled wryly. “Which is why it’s so amusing to me that I ended up in a campground run by people who think one of the campers is a serial killer.”
“Notis,” he protested. “Could be.There’s a difference.”
“True. SoImprobable Causesis a podcast like every other true crime podcast, except in our case, all of the crimes happened before 1918.” Except for the one that had changed everything—or had the potential to, anyway.
“Why 1918?”
She shrugged. “Because we—my friend Erika and I—started the podcast in 2018 and one hundred years sounded like a good cutoff. I do most of the research and the heavy factual lifting and she does the color commentary and brings the entertainment vibe.”
“I’ll have to give it a listen.”
Hannah imagined Rob falling asleep to the sound of her voice in his ears and cleared her throat. “But what about you? You’ve never told me what you did before you decided to buy a campground with your brothers.”
He sighed. “I had jobs, not a career, I guess. In my heart, photography’s my career, but I don’t know if you can call it that if it doesn’t pay the bills, you know? But all of us did our time with the various family businesses, so I’ve done landscaping and building. Some bartending. I took a few photography classes at the community college, and I’ve sold some of my pictures over the years, but I was actually working for Brian—plowing snow, mostly—when we made the decision to buy this place.”
“Do you still have a place there or is this your year-round home now?”
“I shared an apartment with a friend of mine, but right around the time we closed on the campground, he and his girlfriend were talking about living together. Since we’d already talked about me and Brian being up here pretty much full-time, it made more sense to put my stuff in Danny’s basement and let my buddy and his girlfriend have the apartment.”
“You’ll live here all winter, then?”
“That’s the plan, I guess.” He shrugged. “We’ve talked about maybe leaving the cabins open year-round for snowmobiling, but we have to shut the water off to the bathhouses and we only have the one heated bathroom in the store, so if we do, it won’t be for a couple of years. But if I stay, I can keep an eye on things.”
“Brian won’t stay here?”
“I doubt it. He’s got a lot of contracts for snow removal, and he also owns his house. It’s not far from my parents and he loves the place, so selling it didn’t make sense for him. During the summer he did some commercial mowing, but he gave up those jobs for this so he’ll probably spend winters at home, hoping for a lot of snow, and summers up here.”
“The first year or two, I guess it’s best to be fluid,” she said. “It takes a while to learn a business, but it’s got to be easier when there are four of you.”
He laughed. “In some ways, yes. In other ways, it can be a challenge. But it feels good to be able to contribute with my photographs, and to be growing the online presence. Thank you for that.”
“I think you’ve done a lot more for this place than grow the social media presence,” she said. “But I can see how bringing a skill that’s uniquely yours—that none of your brothers can do as well—is important. I’m glad I’m able to help.”
“We need to take that walk soon,” he said. “To find that foundation. Or to look for it, at least. I’ll have to check the forecast because we’re supposed to get some rain, I guess. And probably a weekday, but not one when deliveries are scheduled. And Brian will have to be around.”
She laughed as he tried to figure it out, scowling the entire time. He was gorgeous when he smiled, but he was also gorgeous when he was serious—when his eyes got intense and his brow furrowed slightly.
“Why don’t we play it by ear,” she suggested. “When the time presents itself, I’ll probably be available since I’m not exactly juggling a heavy schedule over here.”
“Okay. I just didn’t want you thinking I forgot or anything, or that I don’t want to do it.”
“I won’t let you forget.” She held up the book in her lap. “And speaking of forgetting, I finished the book and amnesia? Really?”
