“I felt sorry for that woman today, Aiden. You may think this is about the camp, but she was looking foryourapproval today, God knows why. You ought to be ashamedof yourself. ”
I am,I want to say. But also want to say:You don’t know who she is. What she’s done. Sheought to be ashamed.But even as I think it, I know: sheisashamed. That’sthe worst part.
I settle for a lame, “It’s complicated.”
“Maybe it’s not a good time for you to be here, then. You know, I was so happy to know you’d be bringing someone, someone who’d be your partner in this,” she says, sweeping an arm out, herthismeant to encompass the whole camp, everything that means something to her. “We take this seriously, Paul and me. This is our place, Aiden. It’s difficult for us, considering the sale, and we want it to go to a family who’s in it together.”
I look down at her, and for the first time since I pulled up here I really feel the weight of years between us. I remember Lorraine as the surrogate mom I had for six weeks every summer, the woman who hugged me close every time it was time to say goodbye until the next year, and not as the woman who holds my future in her hands. She still looks young, her face mostly unlined, her cheeks full and her eyes bright. But her hair is more gray, her shoulders a bit more stooped. At Aaron’s funeral, Lorraine had cried silent tears and held Paul’s hand tightly as they moved through the receiving line. She’d brought a small box of photographs she’d had of him from camp. She gave that box to me,not my parents.
It reminds me what I owe her, and what I owe to this place. “I take it seriously too. I’m sorry about today, and—I’ll fix things with Zoe. It’s my fault, the way it was with us. I—” I break off, look down at where Lorraine’s lantern rests on the path. “Wereally want to do this. It’s something we’ve worked on a lot.” I know now, I won’t call it off with Zoe. I can’t. If I want this, it has to work with Zoe for these next few weeks. I’ve got to remember that she’s nothing to me. She’s a means to an end.
“She certainly seemed enthusiastic,” Lorraine says, softening immediately like always.Two weeks bathroom duty,I remember her saying to me, stern and disappointed, when I was nine and had been caught out after curfew. But then she’d walked me back to the cabin and bent down to give me a hug when she’d seen my quivering chin. “I liked her. She’s probably toogood for you.”
“Probably,” I say, automatically, and I realize with a hitch of discomfort in my shoulders that I’m not lying. I don’t like her, don’t want her, but that doesn’t mean I can’t see that she’s way out of my league.
“How did you meet?” Of course she asks—of course it seems like the perfect moment to her for this conversation, now that we’ve got a minute alone. And of course I’m wildly unprepared.
“Oh. Just—around town.” Suddenly it is painfully apparent to me what a mistake it was to leave Zoe behind. I think of her, back in the cabin. About now she’s probably figuring out how you’ve got to steer well clear of that curtain when you’re in the shower, or else it’ll stick right to you, no matter how many times you peel it away from yourself. And I hope that bug she mentioned didn’t come back and spook her. I hope she managed with her bed.
“Was it one of those websites?” Lorraine asks. “You can tell me, you know. Don’t be embarrassed. I hear that’s what most peopledo these days.”
“It wasn’t a website,” I say, but I don’t have a better answer. I’m saved by the sound of Hammond’s loud voice, Sheree’s softer one, the leaves rustling underneath their feet as they approach. Walt and Rachel are no doubt on the way. Lorraine nods at me, straightens from the post, and pats my arm. “We’ll talk more soon, all right? But when you get back to your cabin, Aiden, you either apologize to that woman, or you’ll be sleeping alone for the foreseeable future.”
Either way,I think.Either way, I’msleeping alone.
Chapter 5
Zoe
“I’m telling you. He tried to kill me.”
“I don’t know how you can say that about Kenneth,” Greer answers, appalled. “He’s the sweetest cat who ever lived.”
“Greer,” Kit says, taking another fry from our shared plate. “He tried to sleep on my face. He was trying to kill me or trying to suck out my soul. Take your pick.”
We’re on minute eight of this argument, Kit’s catalog of Kenneth’s sins while Greer was on vacation, followed by Greer’s gentle defensiveness, and honestly I think they’re both keeping it up for my benefit. Of the three of us, I’m generally the talker, but since I got back on Sunday I’ve been feeling pretty introverted—jarred and unexpectedly exhausted from what was, all told, only a few hours of deception. Maybe I should’ve been grateful to Aiden for leaving me out like he did, but instead all it’d done was make me more unsure about the weekends to come, about how it’d even be possible to keep this up. No matter how much I keep telling myself that it’s Aiden who’s making things difficult, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m responsible for what happens in Stanton Valley, that I’ve got to make sure Aiden haswhat he wants.
Despite my ruminating, I don’t miss the beat of silence, the hope I might finally chime in, so I oblige. “Maybe I should watch Kenneth next time. It’s up in the air as to whether I have a soul, so it’s possible having a feline around will reveal the truth.”
Hmm. Went too dark, I think, because Greer purses her lips and Kit says, “Honey. Stop that.”
“Sorry.” And I am. I don’t want to be a spoiler, especially not tonight, since Ben’s gone back to Texas for another week, tying up loose ends at his job before he moves here full-time. Kit keeps busy, as independent as she’s ever been, but I know she misses him. “How many more weeks of the back-and-forth?” I ask her.
“About three and a half.” A wide smile spreads across her face. “His dad and I are planning a welcome back party for him,” she says, proudly. “Obviously you guys will come, and I think…”
I lose track of what she’s saying when I spot a familiar form duck through the bar’s front door—so tall, so broad shouldered, that distinctive way he carries himself, alert and slightly tense. He’s wearing a uniform—heavy black boots, dark navy cargoes, a dark navy t-shirt fitted to his body, the white EMS seal of his crew over hisright pectoral.
Aiden.
“Oh, fuck,” I say, instinctively turning back to the bar, my face hot and my palms sweaty. What is hedoinghere? Despite my low mood, I’m out tonight to be with my friends, to be with people who don’t look at me with barely concealed disdain. I dressed up a little too—a short, bohemian-style dress under a denim jacket and low-heeled suede boots, feathered earrings dancing at my earlobes. It was all just for the fun of it, a little pick-me-up to help me feel more like myself. I don’t want him to see me like this. I get enough of his disapproval when I’m actually tryingto please him.
“Are you okay?” says Greer, touching my arm gently. She and Kit have both tucked in, each on one side of me, immediately protective.
“Uh—that guy who just came in. That’s him.That’s Aiden.”
Neither of them are apparently protective enough to keep from twisting dramatically on their stools to gape inhis direction.
“Oh myGod,” I say, in embarrassment, at the same time Greer says it, in a decidedlydifferent tone.
