Chapter Seventeen
Seventeen
“Oh, hi,” I say sweetly to Nina as I continue stirring my pot of noodles over our small camping stove. “Welcome back…”
She giggles as she drops next to me, wearing Jai’s oversized hoodie and bike shorts. “Hey,” she says, leaning into my side. “Oooh, that smells good.”
“Want some?” I offer. “Caleb ate half of Kieran and Henry’s dinner before they went off to collect firewood.”
“Yes, please!” She rolls her shoulders back as she points her face toward the sky, grinning ear to ear.
“You seem happy,” I say, prodding gently. “Good day?”
“Very.” She bites her lip and flashes her eyes at me in that I-got-dicked-down way that every woman could immediately clock. “What about you?” She turns toward me. “Wait, weren’t you hurt earlier? Jai said—”
“I may have been a little dramatic,” I say, lifting my pants to show her the two Hello Kitty Band-Aids that Helen deemed most appropriate for my wound when choosing from her medical kit. “I did get a free ride back to camp out of it though.” I cannot help but smile, thinking of my hot mountain-man escort.
Nina laughs, waving at Libby as she turns away from her tent and looks around for her grandmothers, presumably.
“I think they’re resting,” I tell her, jutting my chin toward Helen and Yvonne’s tent. “You’re welcome to join us, though. Are you hungry? I’ve got noodles,” I singsong.
Surprisingly, she walks over and plops herself next to me. “No…Thanks.”
I glance toward Nina, and we share a brief giddy smile, having finally gotten Libby to come out of her shell even a little bit.
“So, what sort of things are you into?” I ask as I turn off the burner and hand Nina a fork from our cooking bag. “It’s hot,” I warn, seeing her immediately scoop up the ramen noodles. “Books? Movies? British history between the years 1509 and 1547?”
Libby laughs, shaking her head a teensy bit with a perplexed expression. “What?”
“The reign of Henry the eighth, of course,” Nina answers, slurping back noodles that must be burning her mouth. I knew I liked her.
“Is that the king who had a bunch of wives?”
I nod enthusiastically. “Yes, ma’am.”
“My dance group did a performance to one of the songs about him, from the musical.”
“I auditioned for Anne Boleyn,” Nina says.
“Really?” Both Libby and I ask at the same time.
“Yeah, not for the musical though. It was a live reenactment gig. I was studying in London at the time,” she explains. “I didn’t get it.”
I scoff. “Their loss.”
“I think maybe my accent wasn’t convincing…” She drops the fork into the pot and then shuffles over on her hands and knees in front of us. She then reaches up to clutch her neck, forcing a dramatically anguished expression. “No! Please! Don’t kill me! I have such a beautiful neck!” she says before mimicking her head being cut off and falling to the ground.
Libby giggles uncertainly but when Nina twitches her body on the ground, making all sorts of weird gushing and squelching sounds, Libby’s timid giggle transforms into a full-blown belly laugh.
It’s not that I think we should be talking about beheadings with a ten-year-old—and boy, did we somehow find ourselves on this topic quickly—but I laugh too. Especially when Nina sits up, crooks one eye open, and then throws herself back to the ground for more.
“You guys are weird,” Libby says as she reaches into my cooking bag and removes another fork, apparently having changed her mind about the food.
“Hey, what did I do?” I say, holding the pot’s handle still as she twirls some noodles around her fork.
“Why, thank you!” Nina says, sitting up and getting back into place around our communal pot. “My nana used to say that weirder people live longer.”
“So, if not specific eras of British history, what are you into?” I ask.
“Dance,” Libby says between mouthfuls. “I’m going out for dance captain this year.”
“Seriously? You should show us,” I say enthusiastically, taking the fork from Nina. “After we eat though because this shiii—stuff is good.”
“Smooth save,” Nina says mockingly.
—
“Five, six, seven, eight!” Libby says while clapping her hands in time, leading us into the beginning of our performance.
Nina and I have spent the last few hours learning one of Libby’s dance routines from her upcoming recital. Nina has natural talent. I, however, am mostly contributing enthusiasm to the group. But Libby requested we gather everyone at the campfire to watch, and dammit if I’m not going to help put on one hell of a show if she wishes me to. Without music it’s certainly hard to keep time but Libby whispers the counts under her breath as wego.
And we’re fucking nailing it.
Well, the two of them are.
I’m at least half a step behind, watching Caleb’s smirk from across the fire that blooms into a megawatt smile as he watches my uncoordinated limbs dart out in all directions. I know we’re nearing the end when we start the twirling portion. And it’s one of those moments in life where time seems to slow. I’m spinning by a campfire, under a gorgeous sky of stars, feeling young and carefree and weightless. I tilt my head back and revel in the bittersweet remaining seconds, knowing it’s almost over. When we hit our final pose, arms outstretched to the sky, chests heaving, and minds dizzy, the camp erupts with a boisterous standing ovation.
We bow together, then Nina and I step back to applaud Libby as she curtsies like the leading lady she so obviously was born tobe.
“Brava!” Jai shouts.
Caleb puts two fingers into his mouth and whistles loudly before going back to clapping.
Nina wraps Libby and me up into a hug. “We did it!” she squeals, jumping.
Libby fixes her hair when we step back but smiles up at us both shyly. “That was fun.”
“It really was,” I say to her.
“I am ready for bed after just watching you girls.” Maggie smiles warmly as she places her palm inside of her husband’s. “Very well done,” she whispers as she passes us.
“Aw, well, we’d be nothing without our fearless leader,” I say, placing a hand on top of Libby’s head and patting her.
“All right, you, time for bed,” Yvonne says, waving Libby over. She gives her a tight hug before guiding her toward her small pink tent. Libby turns and walks backward a few steps, presenting two thumbs-up toward Nina and me before she heads off.
“Thank you,” Helen says softly, approaching us from the other side of the fire. “She needed that.”
“It was fun,” I say truthfully.
“I’ll see you both in the morning,” Helen says, patting our shoulders before following after her wife and granddaughter.
“I see the knee’s holding up,” Caleb teases as I make my way toward him.
“Must be the air out here,” I say, looping my arms over his neck. “Some sort of magical forest healing.”
“You guys were great.”
“Thank you.” I dip my head in a bow once again. “I had an excellent teacher.”
“I’ve heard she’s a ten-ured professor.” Caleb smiles following his dumb joke. I do too.
“Mm-hmm,” I answer, looking up at him. “You ready for bed?”
“Let’s wait out the fire.” He tucks a stray hair back over my ear and rubs the pulse point on my neck he seems to instinctually find every time. “It’s been such a good day,” he says thoughtfully. “I’m not ready for it to end just yet.”
I nod, tilting my head toward his hold. “Well…We could always end it with a bang,” I suggest, leaning forward as I whisper mischievously.
He laughs dryly in response, dropping his hand to my chest, as he’d done earlier. After a long, quiet moment he sighs, really, really looking at me. “Your heart,” he says solemnly.
“Yes…” We’ve been over this, I think. It’s his…Does he not believe me? “I told you—”
“Something that’s all yours,” he interrupts. “Something you should be proud of,” he says, pressing his forehead to mine. “That is what I should have said on the night of the fundraiser when you asked.”
“Oh…I—”
“It’s how you show up for people, the way you give them your all…You made Libby feel like she was the most special person in the world tonight. You make everyone around you feel that way. Me, Win, Bo, August. You love so deeply, it’s hard for me to understand. It seems exhausting, but you do it anyways. You leave yourself open for anyone who needs a safe place to land, even near-perfect strangers. That is all, uniquely, individually, perfectly you. Something to be proud of that is all yours.”
“I think that’s my mom’s, actually,” I whisper, tears forming in my eyes as our noses softly rub together. “And I distinctly remember telling you that my heart was yours…so …”
“No.” He taps my chest with the tips of his fingers, his voice heavy with emotion. “You inherited Marcie’s heart, sure, but…you use it well. It suits you. It is you. And your heart is mine in the way that our home or our neighborhood or my favorite movie is mine. Mine but not for me alone. Your heart is mine to care for, to treasure. But it will never be just mine.”
I inhale deeply, letting those words rest against my weary soul. And, honestly, I’m at a loss for words. Which, admittedly, is a relatively new experience for me.
“But partial ownership of something doesn’t necessarily always mean collaboration, I know that now. You have to shine on your own. And you will, baby. I know you will. Because you shine brighter than anyone I’ve ever known.” His lips twitch, but don’t quite form a smile. His eyes are heavy under furrowed brows.
A disbelieving laugh rolls out of me as I stare at my husband in surprise. “Cay…” I start, still somewhat speechless.
“Sorry.” He scratches above his eyebrow, laughing nervously. “I’ve had a few hours to myself.”
“And you came up with all that in just a few hours?”
He shakes his head, his eyes finding mine and holding steady. “No…That was just from watching you dance.”
“Never have such beautiful words been inspired by such terrible dancing.”
Caleb pulls me tight to his chest, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and squeezing me to him. “You looked so carefree up there. Like…” His voice falls away on a whisper.
I relax into him, inhaling the smell of his campfire-scented clothing and the familiarity of him rolled into one. “Like I used to?” I finish for him. “Before?”
“Yes.” He kisses the top of my head. “Exactly.”