Chapter 8 #2
“Tell me about the cabin. How did the club find it? Were you guys looking for something for a while?” I edge my toes over the blanket and wriggle them against the soft moss, surprised to find it so cool.
“That’s kind of a wild story.” He says that with some reluctance, like he’s not allowed to talk about it because it’s club business.
“If you can’t tell me about it, that’s okay.”
“Our old Prez could sometimes be a piece of work.” His jaw clenches so tight that it clicks before he lets go of the tension.
He draws a circle with one finger on top of the blanket.
“He was a great man that let paranoia and power, I guess, get to him. He believed things were happening when they weren’t.
Tyrant banished him and he came back for revenge.
Long story short, he actually held his damn son here as a prisoner while his men tortured him.
Tyrant has some not so great memories of the place, but he didn’t let that stop him from buying it and the land it was on and using it for good.
The whole club often uses it, but if any one person or family wants to come up here, they can. ”
“I’m happy that something good could come from something ugly.”
“Me too.”
“It’s wonderful out here, even if the wildlife is lacking.”
“I’d rather lacking than run up on a bear or a mountain lion.”
I laugh at how he reads my mind. “I was thinking that most of the way here.” I reach for the large lunch bag and unzip the top.
I pull out the bagged up ham and cheese sandwiches and then reach for the lemon cupcake with the buttercream icing and the adorable little blue sprinkles on the top.
We stopped at a bakery in Seattle to get it.
Tarynn put a single candle and a lighter in the front zip pouch of the bag.
As soon as I unbox the cupcake and stick the yellow and white striped candle into the twisty mountain of icing, Odin starts protesting.
“No. No way.”
“Happy birthday to you,” I sing loudly, drowning him out. I’m way off pitch. If there are any wild animals within a five mile radius, that will probably drive them away. “Happy birthday, dear Odin. Happy birthday to you.”
He snatches the cupcake and blows out the candle, probably just so that I’ll stop.
“I’ve changed my mind. You’re unnaturally cruel and devious,” he states, plucking the candle out.
He licks the icing off. It shouldn’t be arresting, but watching him suck the sweet sugar has me clenching my thighs. I cover it up quickly, pretending to itch my knee.
“That’s me. Devious to the core.”
I shouldn’t talk about cores, especially not when mine is hotter than the earth’s.
I grab the bag with the sandwiches and pass one to Odin. “If these suck, we could always crumble them up and spread them out for the birds. They’re non-existent right now, but I can hear them out there. Maybe they’d be willing to be bribed.”
I break off one crust, crush it between my fingers, and toss it towards the stream just in case.
It’s so quiet as we eat. About as quiet as any place I’ve ever been.
Instead of feeling unnatural, the silence is a nice blanket.
I watch the clear water flowing past, trying not to think about what it would be like to have a lifetime of this.
Quiet. Peace. Calm. It’s not the life I ever imagined for myself.
Seeing myself in the country would have been laughable.
I’m a city girl through and through, if only because I don’t know any other way to be.
What would it be like to have more afternoons like this?
With friends so close that they’re more like family, a whole club full of men who would do anything for each other.
What would it be like to have a man like Odin at my side.
It’s unthinkable, and not because of how old he is, or who he is, or how we met, but because I have a life elsewhere.
At least for the time. Maybe not for always.
I have to cut that off and draw in a long breath of the fresh air before I can start thinking about a future that’s not mine to ever dream of. I’ve learned how inspiring and healing hope can be, but I also know how it can crush a person.
I leap up, brushing crumbs off my dress. The last thing I need to do is get broody or morose. I don’t feel the least bit tired, despite the lack of sleep. I want to remember every single detail about this trip.
“Will you photograph me?”
Odin finished his sandwiches a long time ago and he’s holding the cupcake like he’s debating about actually eating it. He nearly fumbles it. “Oh, I—”
“Just for me?” I urge, interrupting the refusal I can clearly see coming. This isn’t about anything like what we set up last night. It isn’t for show. It’s just for me. For us. “So I can remember when a really bad week turned into a really good one?”
He sits so long in silence that I think he’s going to refuse.
In that case, I’ll ask him to help me figure out how to take macro shots of mushrooms, lichen, tree bark, and moss.
The second he boxes up the cupcake and reaches for his camera bag, my heart wrenches and starts beating wildly with excitement.
It was a spur of the moment decision to be on this side of the lens while he’s on the other.
I know he’d never make me anything less than beautiful, but it’s still nerve wracking for the trust that goes into something like this.
At least for me. I’m very out of sync with the world of selfies and everyone documenting every single second of their life.
I’ve always chosen not to have social media, and I’m not a very artsy person.
“Just don’t expect greatness.”
Odin slips his camera out of the bag, balancing it easily in his hand while he attaches a lens that doesn’t look big or intimidating. He rises from the blanket, slips into his shit kicker biker boots without doing them up, and flashes me a shy smile he can’t quite control.
It does my heart good and puts me immediately at ease.
This might be an intimate setting, but we can have fun with this. I’ll ask him to show me everything after, and we can laugh at how awkward I know I’ll be in at least half of the photos.
“You mean I can’t go back to LA and use these as my headshots for that commercial for exceptionally average white socks that I’ve been dying to star in?”
“I think exceptionally average might be an oxymoron. Like baby grand, or jumbo shrimp.”
“You’re probably right. Is that what those are called? I didn’t even know that.”
“It is. Are you going back to LA?” he asks casually, but I know it’s not an easy question.
“I decided during the night that it’s probably the best course of action, at least for right now.
I want to try to get back into school, and if I can’t do that, then I’ll apply for next year.
There are some things I have to work out.
I need time to do that. I don’t want to be one of those people who is always running from the hard things in life. ”
Odin studies his camera after removing the lens cap. I watch him for a minute, so intent on his artistry. He’s not hiding behind that camera. He’s trying to give me a moment of privacy so that I don’t have to control my own expressions.
“I don’t want to bring any negativity into this amazing spot.” I want the calm and quiet joy that suffuses this place like the sunbeams slanting down through the branches. I don’t want to bring the future into the present and taint this moment.
“I’d like you to tell me.” Odin looks up slowly. He points the camera at me, but I can tell he’s not setting up for a shot. “Talking about what you’re feeling isn’t negativity. It’s honesty. If we can’t come out here to think and reflect, then what can we do?”
My throat is suddenly thick and hot. I’ve never met someone who could read my thoughts so easily.
Most people will tell you that they want you to be honest, but in reality, they want the convenience of saying it to sound like a good person with deep waters, when really, they only run surface deep.
They don’t actually want to hear what you have to say, and they’re banking on the fact that most people won’t express their innermost thoughts.
“When I met Preston in college again… I… I don’t want this to come out wrong.
” I’m terrible for playing with my hair when I’m nervous, and that’s exactly where my hands shoot, straight to a strand of blonde.
I smooth my fingers down and up, then down again.
“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I wasn’t in it to use anyone.”
“I would never think that about you.”
“I had that scholarship,” I state uselessly.
“I was working too. I wasn’t searching for some rich guy to take care of me.
When we met again and started talking, it just felt so nice to have a friend.
Someone who knew me before. I was so busy working and going to school, that I really didn’t have time to make new friends after we moved.
It felt right to have someone in my corner for once and I think that I mistook that for a lot of other things.
Maybe we both did. You can care about someone and still be completely wrong for them. ”
Odin absorbs that. He lifts the camera, but doesn’t give any instructions.
I take a few steps over to the stream. I walk slowly, making sure I check the ground for each step because I’m in bare feet. The moss is soft and squishy. It feels as cool and alive as that flowing water probably will.