“No need,” I chuckled.
“Listen, I need to go grab some food. Care to join me?”
“Sure, I can eat again. You want to go to the Lodge and scrounge for leftovers?”
“Nah. It never tastes the same reheated. Can we run into town? We could go to Tucker’s. They’ve got killer sweet potato fries. There’s this maple mayo stuff they serve up to dip them in.” He swallowed, his stomach rumbling. “So good.”
“We’re not really dressed for an evening out,” I noted.
“Are you kidding me? We look fine. Plus, it’s a Monday night. And it’s Tucker’s.”
“Point taken.”
“Okay, I’ll drive. I’m afraid if we take your car, we might not make it there,” he joked. Matt grabbed his hat and slid it, facing backwards, on his head. He picked up the keys off the kitchen counter and led me to the truck.
The dimly lit Irish pub offered seating at the bar or at a handful of tables made of dark stained wood with old, low-back, Shaker-style chairs. Matt chose a table in the corner for the two of us, far enough away from the bar and the pool table that we could hear each other. There were only two other parties seated, along with a handful of patrons hanging out by the bar, several of whom were glued to a screen on the wall, playing Quick Draw lotto numbers.
The waitress took our order—a turkey club and French onion soup for him and a plate of sweet potato fries to share—and he sipped on a glass of Coors Light on draft. I ordered a ginger ale. I didn’t want to risk getting silly the night before all the staff arrived.
“So, what’d you do today?” he asked, dragging a long, thin fry through the dish of maple mayo. It left a trail, like a slug.
I shrugged. “Tons of things. Me and Pat are like family, we spend so much time together now.” I plucked a French fry off the plate. “Oh, that reminds me. He said something sweet to me today. It totally caught me off guard.”
Matt raised his eyebrows. “What was it?”
“He said he hired me because I had camp in my blood.”
“Aw, that’s cute. He’s such a sap.”
“Totally. He said he hired you for the same reason,” I went on. “He called us ‘eight-weekers.’ It hit me. Kind of made me a little emotional. Especially now.”
“Now?”
“Now that I’m not, like, completely numb anymore.”
“Mm,” he nodded. “That’s funny. I wonder if Pat orchestrated our reunion.”
“Like a fairy godmother?”
“Yeah,” he swallowed. “If so, I’ll have to thank him.” Matt winked.
“You’ve become quite the flirt, you know that?”
“What? I’m just grateful,” he insisted, purporting innocence. “It’s hard to find good work colleagues these days.”
I laughed.
Amidst more light banter, he settled up with the waitress and pushed the plate across the table so I could finish the last of the fries. When I was done, he led me back out into the parking lot. He walked me to the passenger side of the truck and opened the door for me, leaning his body close enough for me to catch a whiff of the beer on his breath. Typically, the scent would repulse me, but on Matt, somehow even beer smelled nice.
“Such a gentleman,” I laughed, climbing into the truck.
“I’d like to think so,” he replied, his face closer than necessary. “Hey. You got something,” he said, lifting his thumb to the corner of my mouth and gently wiping towards the space between my lips. He put his thumb up to his own mouth, placing it on the tip of his tongue, sucking gently before releasing it. “Maple.” I froze, awash with sudden desire at the simple action.
I replayed the moment in my mind on a loop the whole ride back to camp, while Matt flipped through radio stations, finally giving up and switching on an old Taking Back Sunday playlist from his phone. I stared out the window, afraid to look at him, knowing I would only see the towel-clad Matt from earlier: one tattoo on his ribcage and another on his arm, water droplets falling from the tips of his hair to his shoulders. The silence was like oxygen to a newly lit fire, helping it catch and grow more wild with each passing second.
We returned to his house. Matt unlocked the door. “Ladies first,” he said.
I entered the vestibule. As soon as Matt closed the door, I turned around to face him. His expression serious, he took a step toward me as I stood my ground in the tiny entry foyer.
