Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
HIDEAWAY
CAMDEN
The tree house finally looked right.
We’d gotten a lake home in Windy Harbor, a few hours from St. Paul, and after we talked about how much we loved it there, the Fairs got a vacation home there too. Now our summers were spent by the lake, swimming and fishing and exploring the woods. I loved it there. We all did.
We’d spent the summer working on the tree house, between our property and the old cabins and resort next to us, and getting it how we wanted had taken us weeks.
We scrubbed the floor, fixed the door, and strung up battery-powered lights that Juju insisted we needed.
Jackson and I pretended the lights were silly, but I secretly thought they were cool.
Dad let us take his old Bluetooth speaker when he got a new one, and we rigged it to the rafters.
Tully and I carried up sleeping bags, along with playing cards and board games, and a plastic tub filled with candy.
Juju and Goldie cut up material and hung it on either side of the window, makeshift curtains that Juju held back with a little rope. They looked good.
The place felt like ours.
No parents calling us down to help carry groceries or work in the yard. Just us, stretched out on mismatched pillows in our little hideaway, drinking cold Cokes out of the bottle.
And no siblings, not today anyway.
I loved my little sister and my brothers, but there were times I didn’t want the responsibility of making sure everyone was okay. Noah was out with his girlfriend all the time these days, so I was the oldest when it came time to play, and sometimes I just needed to do what I wanted for a while.
Whenever I wanted to go to the Fairs’ house, Goldie was usually glued to my side. She and Juju were together anytime Goldie wasn’t with Tully. If Juju was in charge, they baked, and if Goldie was, they worked on art projects.
After working so hard, the quiet was nice.
Sometimes I had the tree house to myself, and I liked that.
It felt great to have something we’d worked on with our own hands.
My brother Noah helped some. He wanted to build houses in the future, and he already knew way more than I did about construction.
Even though it was technically our tree house, I knew Jackson and Juju would be spending a lot of time there.
Later that night, after we’d roasted marshmallows and then went inside to watch a movie, Jackson fell asleep while the credits were rolling. I looked around for my notebook, the only thing I’d brought with me, and realized I’d left it in the tree house.
I slipped outside barefoot, the grass cool against my feet, and heard the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks.
Windy Harbor’s lighthouse was a little more visible from Jackson’s house than mine, but when the light turned toward our yard, it was brighter.
I was still glad we had the lights at the tree house.
They lit my path and the ladder when I climbed up.
When I pushed the door open, I froze.
Juju was in there, sitting cross-legged on one of the sleeping bags with a flashlight tucked between her knees, flipping through my notebook.
She looked up and dropped the flashlight.
It took her a second of fumbling to pick it up again, and I blinked at her.
She had on a tank top and these tiny cut-off shorts that she hadn’t been wearing earlier.
I couldn’t remember ever seeing her wear anything like this.
She looked older. Her legs went on forever. I felt my face and neck get warm.
“Uh, what are you doing?” I asked, motioning for her to hand me my notebook.
She gave it to me. “You’re always guarding this like a hawk, and I wanted to see what was so important.”
“Well? What do you think?”
She grinned. “I think I’d really like to try that steak wrapped in the puff pastry.”
My cheeks flamed hotter. “You don’t think it’s stupid?”
Her smile dropped. “What’s stupid?”
“That I make up recipes that I think sound good?”
She leaned up on her knees. “I think it’s awesome. And you don’t just write them down—you make them. I saw the recipe for that macaroni and cheese you made.” She pretended she was locking her lips. “I won’t tell a soul the secret ingredient.”
I grinned. “You better not. One day I’m going to make that in my restaurant, and you and I will be the only ones who know.”
Her smile was huge. She liked that. I stood a little taller, my chest tight with that heated buzz I’d been getting around her a lot lately.
I loved making her light up. Ever since the day we met and I saw those sad eyes looking up at me, I’d been trying to make her happy.
It wasn’t hard to do. She was funny, and I was never bored with her.
I’d never admit this to anyone, but sometimes I even preferred her company over Jackson’s.
“You know what would be delicious with this one?” she asked, pointing to a recipe I’d made up for a pasta with chicken and mushrooms.
I moved closer and sat down beside her, our shoulders brushing against each other.
“What?”
“My caramelized Brussels sprouts.” She grinned.
“Mmm, for sure.”
Juju and I were the only kids we knew who liked Brussels sprouts. And we really liked them. Juju made them the best. I could probably eat them every day.
“And that raspberry cream pie I made a few weeks ago.”
I groaned. “I loved that pie. Anything would be good with that, but you’re right, it would be the best with that pasta dish.”
She nodded, her smile huge again.
“When are you making it again?” I asked.
She lifted a shoulder. “I could make it anytime you want.”
I smiled. “How about you come over tomorrow? I’ll make that pasta, and you can make the Brussels sprouts and pie.”
“Yes!” She handed me the notebook and grinned over at me. “I wish it was tomorrow right now.”
My stomach growled, and we both laughed.
“Me too.”
The next day, when my mom took my brothers and sister swimming, I stayed back, saying I was too tired. She came back to my room afterward, checking to see if I was okay. Since I could never seem to lie to her, I told her the truth.
“I want to fine-tune that pasta dish I made recently, and Juju’s going to bring over Brussels sprouts and a pie that we think will be perfect with it.”
She smiled, knowing how much cooking meant to me and also that I needed time for more quietness than my family sometimes allowed.
“Okay, just as long as you save a little bit for me,” she said. “And have Juju make sure it’s okay with her parents that she’s here with you. Better if Jackson came over too.”
“But she’s here all the time.” I frowned. “And Jackson doesn’t get why we’re so into cooking.”
“I think it’s wonderful that you’re both so gifted in the kitchen, and I love that you’re doing this together. But everyone else is usually around when she’s over here. You’re at an age where it’d be good to have others around.”
“But why?”
“You’re getting older and going through some changes, right?” She smiled at me and I flushed. “It can be a confusing time.”
“Mom,” I groaned.
“I know, I know. We don’t like to talk about things like puberty.
” She made a face, trying to get me to smile, but I was too grossed out.
“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, love.
It’s part of life, and you need to be aware of it.
Sometimes our hormones can make things complicated.
” When she saw the disgust on my face, she laughed, and then she paused and her eyes lit up.
“You know what? Grandma Donna said she was stopping by later with a few things. I could see if she’d hang out with you two for a while. ”
I grumbled under my breath while she called Grandma Donna. I loved Grandma Donna so much, but I didn’t see why my mom was making such a big deal about this. It wasn’t like anything weird would happen.
And then I remembered how I’d felt the night before when I saw Juju in those shorts. Her long legs. Her skin looked so soft.
I swallowed hard and avoided looking at my mom. It was terrifying how she could always read my mind.
She got off the phone and clasped her hands together. “Okay, it’s perfect. She doesn’t mind hanging out until we get home. She says she’ll stay out of your way too.” She winked.
Then why is she coming at all? I wanted to ask, but I was too shaken up by my mom’s sixth sense to argue.
Mom kissed my cheek and rubbed her hand over the hair by my neck like she always did. Just like that, my annoyance with her disappeared.
“Love you, Cam,” she said.
“I love you too.”
Grandma Donna came a few minutes before Juju. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed both of my cheeks.
“I can’t get over how fast you’re growing. You’re as tall as your dad!” She smiled up at me.
“He doesn’t love that his boys are passing him up,” I said, laughing. “Well, Noah already has, and Tully and Dylan aren’t far behind.”
“You boys are all growing way too fast. Knock it off!”
“Can’t.” I grinned and lifted my shoulder in a shrug.
When Juju got there, we couldn’t stop smiling at each other.
“You kids have fun. I’ll be watching my stories over here in the den,” Grandma Donna said.
I didn’t know why I was so into creating things in the kitchen, but I always had been, and so had Juju.
No one in my family liked cooking as much as me, not even Grandma Nancy, who really enjoyed it.
Juju had more special family recipes than we did, but even at her house, she’d already taken over the baking for holidays and family dinners.
Sometimes when I was at their house, we would try to figure out what we all wanted to watch, and Juju and I would vote for a cooking show.
Jackson griped about it, but he’d play with his Switch if we insisted on watching one.
We’d make it up to him later by letting him pick what we made to eat.
I turned on the music, and we lined up our ingredients on the island. Before long, the kitchen smelled like olive oil, garlic, and sugar. Juju put graham crackers in a plastic bag, so they wouldn’t make a mess, and pounded them with the bottom of a glass.
Eventually, she pounded so hard that she made a hole, and graham crackers went flying in her face.
“So you wanted to wear the graham crackers, huh?” I said, throwing a towel at her so she could wipe them off.
She pretended to be annoyed and crumbled another small piece of graham cracker in the mixing bowl with the end of a knife. When she leaned over to grab the powdered sugar, I caught the scent of her strawberry shampoo. She always smelled like either sugar or berries.
We worked, sometimes chatting and sometimes humming along with the music. I asked Grandma Donna if she wanted any food, and she said she’d let us enjoy it first, while she worked up an appetite. I thought maybe her soap opera wasn’t over yet.
When we plated everything and sat down at the table, we looked at each other and grinned.
“I’m so hungry,” I said.
“I can’t wait to eat it. This pasta looks so good.” She took a bite, and she tilted her head from side to side. “Oh, that is delicious.” She covered her mouth and said it with her mouth full. “That little bit of lemon…” She nodded. “I love it.”
I felt a surge of pride. I liked feeding Juju more than just about anyone. She always appreciated what it took to make something delicious, and she wasn’t one of those picky eaters like most of the girls at school. Jackson liked good food, but he didn’t always want to try everything.
We talked about what we wanted to do with the rest of the summer, and then we put huge slices of pie on our plates. My eyes practically rolled back when I took the first bite.
“That’s even better than the last time,” I said.
“Thank you,” Juju said, her cheeks pink.
I was thinking about taking a second piece of pie when the back door swung open.
Jackson stepped inside, his hair plastered to his forehead from the bike ride over. He stopped in the doorway, looking between us. We were so shocked that he’d stormed in, we just stared back at him.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“We’re—” Juju started.
“We made some food,” I said. “Want some?”
Juju held up the pie proudly. “I made that raspberry cream—”
“This is where you guys have been all day?” Jackson said, cutting her off.
“Not all day, just a couple hours,” I said.
He looked at me, his eyes narrowing. “Dude, it’s weird.”
“What’s weird?” I asked, instantly defensive.
“That you want to hang out with my little sister? I don’t know. It’s just weird, okay? Why do you want to hang out with her all the time?”
“You like to hang out with her too. She’s—” I paused.
His words hit harder than I expected, and not because I thought he was right—until my thoughts last night and the earlier conversation today with Mom came racing back. With Jackson’s voice layered over hers, all I could hear was the warning.
Suddenly, everything felt off.
I looked at Juju, and a wave of sadness hit me. I picked up my plate and carried it to the sink.
“Yeah, you’re right,” I said. “It is weird for us to hang out without you.”
I glanced at Juju and wished I hadn’t because I saw her face fall. She blinked at me, confused and hurt, like she was trying to figure out who I was and what had just happened.
That was what I wanted to know too—what had happened in the past two days to change everything?
And then she was moving. She was at the door before I knew it.
“Take the rest of the pie,” I said.
“Jackson can bring it,” she said as she walked out.
He gave me another look, this time an angry one for hurting his sister’s feelings.
I’d recognize that look anywhere because I’d given it plenty of times to people bugging Goldie.
I stood there with a messy kitchen and an ache in my gut that had nothing to do with the food.