Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
RESILIENT
CAMDEN
I get up early the next morning to plow the driveway to the house, a path for everyone to get to the Friendship Bench because it’s still going strong for Grandma Donna, as well as the roads to the resort and the restaurant.
We got a foot last night. The trees are outlined with snow, their branches droopy with the heaviness of it. A winter wonderland.
When I pull back into the driveway of the house, I see Judith Summers trekking down the path to the Friendship Bench.
One thing you’ve gotta say about Minnesotans is that we are hardy sons of bitches.
We don’t shut down for anything.
Jackson is in my driveway, his car still running. He gets out when he sees me pull up.
“Hey,” he says. He stretches and yawns, giving me a cheesy grin. “I’m exhausted.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, you missed out, man.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“Who the hell were those two you had at broomball last night?”
He blinks, like I must be joking. “They could’ve been the best time of your life.”
I groan, and we walk inside the house.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t want to…they’re gorgeous! And up for anything.”
“It was weird. Bringing them around our families, and just assuming I’d want to do anything with either one of them––”
“Aw, come on. Loosen up a little. You could use it. You’re wound tighter than a drum.” He squeezes my shoulders. “My man needs to get laid.”
I hear a scoff behind me and turn to see Grandma Nancy sitting on the couch.
I glare at Jackson, who widens his eyes in apology.
“Lemonade,” he tries to clarify. “My man needs to get lemonade.”
Grandma Nancy quirks a brow, her lips pinching together. He goes over and kisses her cheek, and she gives him a begrudging smile when he pulls back.
“You’re looking lovely today, Grandma Nancy,” he says.
She pats his cheek. “You don’t have to sweet-talk me just because I’m here.” She waves her hand. “Pretend I’m a fly on the wall.” She takes a sip of tea. “But both of you are too good for those puck bunnies.”
Jackson and I both choke on our laughter.
“What? You think I’m too old to know what that is?” She winks. “One of my grandsons is a professional hockey player, remember? I’ve heard it all. And I’ve seen a few things in my day too,” she adds.
“Yes, you have,” I jump in, not wanting to go down this path where she might share some of those things she’s seen.
Despite the facts, I prefer to keep my grandma in the virginal realm if possible.
I shoot Jackson a look, willing him to be quiet as we walk to the kitchen.
“Sorry, man,” he says as soon as it’s safe. His shoulders deflate, and then he shudders. “I was afraid she was going to tell us she enjoyed threesomes back in her day.”
“I’m going to pretend those words didn’t come out of your mouth,” I mutter with a huff as I grab two mugs out of the cabinet. “Coffee?”
“Sorry. Yeah, thanks,” he says.
I pour some into both mugs and hand him one. “How long are you around? You sticking around a while?”
“Yeah, I think so. I can work remotely for a while, and I just needed to get out of the city, get by the water and family. My mom’s coming in later this afternoon, and I didn’t want to miss out on everyone being here.” He grins and leans in. “So I had to get my fix last night,” he says quietly.
I chuckle and shake my head. “Look. I don’t need you trying to set me up anymore. Okay?”
He cracks up. “You’re telling me you don’t need a little help? Come on, man, you’re working crazy-ass hours at the restaurant, and you’re buried in work, helping get the resort opened. When’s the last time you had fun?”
Juju’s lips on mine last night come to mind.
Out loud, I say, “Broomball was fun.”
“With family,” he argues. “You don’t get to count that. I mean fun with someone who could actually rid you of some of this tension you’re carrying all the time.”
“I do just fine,” I say tightly.
The problem is, I know exactly who I want to rid me of this tension. It’s just not someone Jackson would ever approve of.
“Not interested,” I add. “Not right now.”
He studies me. “Not right now? Or not ever?”
“I’ve got too much going on,” I say. “Like you said, I’m at the restaurant a fuck-ton. We’re still finding our footing. I’m trying to keep up with supply runs, payroll, the staff. And I’m trying to do my part to make sure the resort is on track to open on schedule. It’s a lot.”
He leans back on his heels. For once, he doesn’t look like he’s about to crack a joke. “That’s exactly what I’m saying—you’ve got too much going on and need some fun. But I hear you. I just don’t want you to burn out.”
“I’ll be okay. I don’t need distractions.”
What I don’t add is: except for Juju.
And she isn’t really a distraction. She’s oxygen.
He shrugs. “If you’re sure…”
“I’m sure.”
“Okay. Guess I’ll cancel the double date I’d lined up for next week.”
I groan. “Immediately.”
“Noted.” He drains his coffee cup and sets it down, then pushes off the counter. “But time’s flying by. Don’t miss out on the good shit.”
I’m left there with the sound of the kitchen fan and my conflicted thoughts.
I’ve already got what I want.
I just can’t tell him yet.
Not until I can figure out how to keep everything from blowing up.
I tug my coat back on as I step onto the deck. The sun is trying to come out, which is warming things up a bit. Across the yard, Grandma Donna sits like a queen on the Friendship Bench.
She’s bundled up so well that I laugh out loud.
A knitted hat pulled low, her scarf wound around three times…
I don’t know how she can see or breathe under all her layers.
Her needles click in that way that I always associate with her, since she’s been knitting as far back as I can remember.
Her gloves are the only lightweight thing she’s wearing.
She’s lining black and white yarn out beside her, like she’s about to start a new project.
“How’s it going?” I ask, my voice breaking the quiet.
She startles, then drags her eyes from the water view up to me. “Mercy, Camden. You’re quieter than your papa ever was.” She shakes her head, settling. “Just got done with a session and have a little time before the next one.”
“You’re not freezing out here?”
“No, those heaters help so much.” She points at herself. “And I’m all bundled up.”
I let my laugh escape. “You look like the Abominable Snowman.”
Her eyes crinkle above her scarf. “That’s exactly the look I was going for.”
“Is it okay if I sit down for a bit?”
Her smile spreads wide. “I’d love that.”
I sit next to her. The heater hums faintly, and I’m surprised how well it works. She’s right. It’s not bad out here. For a second, we just sit in comfortable silence, the lake stretching gray and endless in front of us, her needles clacking away.
“Anything on your mind, honey?” she asks.
I start talking. Not about the restaurant. Not about the resort. Not about Jackson’s schemes or the staff at Elm & Echo or any of the various things on my mind. No, I end up circling, hesitating, and then spilling the whole damn thing about Juju.
It comes out in staccato bursts, like I’ve been storing it up too long: the fights, the bickering, the way I pretended for so long that she drove me insane, when really I just wanted her attention.
And then the cracks in the armor. How she smiles at me now, not just in annoyance but like maybe she’s finally looking back at me and actually sees me too.
How I’ve kissed her, God help me, and I don’t regret it for a second.
How I want our first date to be special.
And then I tell her all about Jackson and why we’re keeping everything quiet.
When I finally stop, Grandma Donna lowers the knitting into her lap. She studies me for a few quiet moments.
“Your mom told me to be on the lookout for this,” she says finally.
“She said when the time was right, I’d know, and I should give you this advice: Go for it.
Don’t be afraid to show her how you feel.
If you still love her after loving her for a lifetime, then you will have the life of your dreams. You just have to take the next step and make sure she knows how you feel. ”
My throat tightens. I huff out a laugh, part nerves, part disbelief. “Wow. That sounds like Mom.” I get choked up. “I think she knows how I feel…I kissed her,” I remind her.
Her eyes widen. “Yes, back to that. You’ve kissed her but haven’t taken her on a proper date?” She tsks. “I know your mother raised you better than that.”
I let out a groan and rub a hand over my face. “It wasn’t…the ideal way to go about it. But…it was pretty great—” I laugh.
“You’re telling me you’ve got all this heat with her, and you’re wasting it on being careful not to let anyone know?”
“You make it sound simple.”
“It is simple,” she says firmly, needles resuming their clicks. “You boys like to complicate things. But honey, if you feel the way you just described, you need to show her, not just with stolen kisses.”
“Jackson would never approve,” I mutter.
“Jackson doesn’t get a vote,” she says without hesitation. “He loves his sister, yes, but this isn’t about him. It’s about you and Juliana.”
“I don’t want to screw it up,” I admit, softer than I mean to. “I’ve wanted this for so long. Since—God, I don’t even know how far back. And with how awful things got between us, I keep thinking I’ll ruin it again.”
She lays her knitting aside again, her gloved hand resting briefly on my arm. “You will ruin it, Camden, if you don’t give her the chance to see the real you. Take her on a date. Make her laugh. Let her know she’s worth your time and effort. That’s how you honor feelings like these.”
Her words hit me hard. For a second, I can picture it: Juju at a little table, candlelight flickering, her hair catching the glow.
I can hear her laugh, the one that slips out before she can stop it.
I can imagine holding her hand across the table, not in secret, not rushed, but because she wants me to.
“I don’t even know if she wants all of this,” I admit. “Yes, she likes kissing me, but––”
“She wants this,” Grandma Donna says matter-of-factly. “I’ve been watching the two of you before you even knew what a crush was. There’s a pull there. Everyone can see it.”
I laugh and make a face. “Even Jackson?”
She gives me a sly look. “I bet Jackson sees it and pretends he doesn’t. He thinks protecting his sister means keeping her away from trouble. But what he forgets is that love is always a little trouble. And it’s worth it.”
I lean back against the bench, staring at the lake. “You make it sound like I should walk right over to Kitty-Corner and ask her out tonight.”
Her eyes glint with humor. “If not tonight, soon. Don’t let too many tomorrows pass.”
I sit with her a while longer, listening to the steady click of needles and the lake wind whipping. My head feels quieter. Calmer.
When I finally stand, she pats my arm. “Remember—kisses are wonderful, but they’re not the foundation. The two of you have built some of that with time, but now, move forward with intention.”
I nod, swallowing hard. “Thanks, Grandma Donna.”
She smiles up at me and holds up a swath of an intricate black-and-white knitted pattern. She studies my face and nods, looking pleased. “This will look really good on you.”
I grin. “Love you.”
“Oh, I love you more than I can say,” she says.
I head back to the house to get ready for work, and for the first time in a while, I’m not restless.
I’m ready.
Maybe not to tell Jackson quite yet, but to show Juju the depth of what I’m feeling.