Chapter 5 #2
Olivia continues to stand in front of me in awkward silence, as though conjuring another reason to continue the conversation.
I suspect she’s missing her parents. I know how she feels.
My family has been gone for years, and I still have moments where I miss them so much, my whole body aches with it.
“Or why don’t I ask Gloria if you can do it now?”
Olivia’s smile is triumphant. “Good idea.”
I send a text to Gloria and receive an immediate response. “Gloria says to meet her at her cabin in the next two minutes and you can have a turn.”
Olivia doesn’t say a word. She spins on her heels and flees the cafeteria without a backward glance.
Charlie chuckles. “She seemed very appreciative of your efforts.”
“She’s eleven. Forgetting manners due to genuine excitement is a rite of passage.” Olivia needs a spark of joy wherever she can find it right now. If I can facilitate that in any way, I’m happy to do so.
“You’re much softer than my parents.”
“Much younger too.” As much as my hormones urge me to stay here with the anatomically correct Ken doll, my brain knows better. He isn’t interested in me; he’s interested in my land. His plan is to fake it ’til he makes it.
Not on my watch.
“I’ll see you later, Charlie.” I stand up abruptly and take my banana to go.
Camp is running smoothly today, thank goodness. There are always hiccups like the unexpectedly moldy strawberries and changing the schedule due to weather, but as long as there’s nothing too costly or upsetting, I’m happy.
After one round of check-ins, I duck into my office to take care of a few administrative tasks.
They’re my least favorite part of the job.
I’m not the most organized person in the world and I lose focus when there are too many details, but I can’t afford to hire anyone.
I already barter with Gloria for cleaning and Adam for counselor duties when the kids arrive following adult camp.
The other counselors are college students who volunteer.
An hour flies past, and I’m distracted by the sound of footsteps passing back and forth in front of the office door.
“Olivia, is that you?”
The footsteps grind to a halt and the door creaks open. The first thing I see are a pair of Gucci loafers, followed by Charlie’s sheepish face.
“Can I help you?”
“I wasn’t sure if you were here.”
“You could’ve knocked.” But that would’ve no doubt thwarted his plan of sneaking inside.
“I didn’t want to interrupt you.”
“And yet you have.” I set down my pen. “What’s up?”
He slides into the office and perches on the edge of my desk. “Why this camp?”
I lean against my chair, clasping my hands in my lap. This ought to be good. “You’ve been loitering outside my office with that question?”
“I’m curious.”
“I told you. It’s a family business.”
“I know, but you’re young. You could’ve sold it. Hell, you could sell it right now. Why take it on all by yourself?”
“Because camp is the highlight of the year for many of them. And people need this; they need joy in their lives. They need silliness and fun .”
“I’m not talking about the camp itself. The theme. Why niche down to nerds only?”
His question surprises me. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“Not to me.” He flashes a smile. “Explain it to me like I’m a pinheaded jock.”
“We need a safe space to be ourselves. You heard Stefan this morning. Where else can someone express a sentiment like that and not expect people to judge him for it? We all need a place to be our most authentic selves.”
“Shouldn’t that be our homes?”
“Sure, when we’re by ourselves, that might be true—unless you’re Gloria, who looks after her ailing mother. Or Ben, who spends most of his time at home with family members who don’t share his interests.”
“Or someone like you, who lives alone in an isolated area.”
A lump gathers in my throat. “See? You get the picture.”
“What’s it like here outside of the summer season?”
“Not gonna lie, winters can be brutal, but I wouldn’t trade this place for anything.”
His blue-green eyes twinkle. “Not even for a generous sum of money?”
“If you’re here to tempt me with a wad of cash, don’t bother.”
He returns to his feet. “You’re right. Money does crazy things to people anyway. You don’t want that.”
“Money doesn’t do anything except amplify who they really are. If you ever want to truly know someone, give them a million dollars and watch how they behave.”
A smile ghosts over his lips. “I’m trying to give you more than a million dollars, but you won’t take it.”
“Ah, but what you see is what you get with me. No need to throw money at me to extract that golden nugget.”
“I’m beginning to see that.” He drags a hand through his hair. “I can’t pretend to get the whole Viking thing with Stefan, but I can see it’s a big deal to him.”
“Why do you need to understand it? You have empathy, don’t you?”
“Do I? I’m a lawyer, don’t forget.”
“Trust me, I haven’t forgotten.” Not for one second. “I think Monopoly is today’s board game. If you hurry, you can join the game before it starts. Hunter is fairly strict when it comes to latecomers.”
Charlie takes the hint. “Thanks. I’ll check it out.”
My body remains tense until the door closes, blocking any further view of him.
Whenever he’s in my orbit, I develop an acute case of brain fog.
His presence seems to muddy the waters of the mind I’d made up about him.
I was sure he was here to snoop, yet his questions were insightful and even his comment about Stefan seemed to come from a genuine place.
He may be here for the wrong reasons, but he doesn’t seem like a terrible person, only a misguided one.
My phone pings with a reminder that it’s snack time. I wander down to the picnic area to join the campers. There’s already a lively group present. The enthusiastic chatter warms my heart. The group chat is no match for the energy when we’re all in person together.
Charlie sits among the campers, which means he didn’t take my suggestion to join the Monopoly game. No surprise. He’s here for the wrong reasons and we all know it.
He waves when he spots me and slides over, motioning for me to sit next to him. I scan the seating area for another available spot, but there isn’t one. Reluctantly, I join Charlie on the bench.
“Granola bar?” he asks, holding out a chocolate-chip-flavored one.
“Sure.”
As I unwrap the bar, Laura appears at the edge of the picnic area, clapping her hands. “Listen up, everybody. It’s time for the big reveal. We need an appropriate soundtrack.”
Music begins to play from someone’s phone, and I immediately recognize the beginning of Led Zeppelin’s “Immigrant Song.” It’s perfect.
A sturdy figure cuts through the shadows. He doesn’t simply stride toward us, he struts.
Valhalla, he’s coming.
When Stefan steps fully into view, Laura’s handiwork is evident.
The horned helmet is gone. His beard has been trimmed into a V.
He does a slow-motion twirl, showing off the shaved back of his head.
Laura left more hair on top, along with longer bangs.
His oversized T-shirt and cargo shorts have been swapped for a natural linen tunic and baggy trousers.
The flip-flops are now brown boots made of leather and bone.
Stefan has finally made those boots proud.
Thunderous applause follows his dramatic entrance. Stefan’s smile melts my icy heart into a puddle. I didn’t realize we had a watered-down version of the Viking until this moment. With these few extra touches, he’s now Stefan in his purest form.
“Wow,” Charlie whispers. “It’s like a light went on. He’s a whole different person.”
“No, he’s the whole right person. Now he feels more like his true self.”
“Incredible what a simple haircut can do.” Charlie seems enamored of Stefan’s transformation, and I think I like him a little bit more than I did earlier.
“Where’s the helmet?” Gloria asks.
He spreads his arms wide. “Now that I’m the whole package, I don’t need the helmet.”
I cut through the onlookers to hug Stefan. “Congratulations. You look amazing.”
“I feel amazing.”
Angela squeezes next to us. “You won’t stop wearing the helmet for good, though, will you?”
“I’ll wear it on occasion. I like it, even if it isn’t historically accurate.”
Old habits die hard.
“Dare I ask what kind of bone they used on your boot buttons?” Ben asks.
Stefan lifts a foot. “Antlers.”
Ben looks visibly relieved. I’m not sure what he thought they were, nor am I asking.
“I think you look really cool,” Olivia tells him.
Stefan bows. “Thank you, young lady. I pledge not to pillage your village.”
“Ooh, all it takes is one compliment and we can save our cabin from a raid?” Gloria gives him the once-over. “In that case, I like your trousers. They remind me of those parachute pants that were popular in the Eighties.”
“Thank you.”
Stefan is high on life right now and I’m here for it. “You did a great job, Laura.”
She’s beaming as brightly as Stefan. “It feels good to do good,” she responds and starts to cry, which triggers tears from Stefan. Before I know it, half the campers are wiping the moisture from their eyes.
I return to the bench where Charlie is still seated. “Same as working at a law firm, isn’t it?”
He grunts. “Yes, exactly the same. Tissue boxes are one of our biggest expenses.”
“Seriously, though, has anyone ever cried at your office?”
“Only tears of terror.”
“Have you ever cried at work?”
“No, but I haven’t cried since I was a kid.”
“Really? Not even at the movies?”
He casts me a sidelong glance. “Which movies do you think I’ve watched that would trigger that kind of response?”
“No idea. I always seem to cry during a movie. There’s something about sitting in the dark and becoming invested in someone else’s story that makes me emotional.”
“Then maybe turn the light on the next time you watch.”
“There’s nothing wrong with letting the tears flow,” I say, although admittedly I got tired of seeing my red-rimmed eyes in the mirror in the aftermath of my breakup with the Prick. I try to put a positive spin on them, though. Those tears were necessary to clear the toxins from my system.
“I’d like to hear you say that to my father.”
“I’d be happy to.” I pull out my phone. “What’s his number?”
Charlie shakes his head. “Trust me. You do not want that experience.”
“Fine, but you do want the experience of movie night. We have one coming up, but I think people would object if we leave the light on. Kind of ruins the cinematic ambience.”
“When’s movie night?”
“Tonight at six. You should really pay attention to the schedule.”
“Save me a seat?”
“If it means I get a front-row seat to watch you cry, then hell yes.”
“Sorry. This face is a marble mask.”
Sadly, I didn’t disagree.