Chapter Fifteen
I finished prepping my classic summer pasta salad, a dish no one had ever given less than five stars to at any barbecue or
potluck, and some sautéed shrimp. I just learned shrimp was much easier to cook than I’d assumed, thanks to one of those “quick
easy lunch” recipe TikToks. We had been a boxed fish sticks and canned tuna kind of family. So now I bought frozen shrimp
whenever I could, just in case others might also feel impressed by my fake-chef acumen. I boiled two cobs of corn, then I
knocked on Dave’s door with a plate. This idea felt like the most inspired one I had ever had, until I was actually standing
there. I wanted to flee, but I’d already knocked. He opened the door, looking a bit sweaty. In the Christmas movie version
of this scene, he would be swept off his feet by this gesture.
“Oh, hey,” Dave said, surprised but perhaps not delighted.
“I made some dinner. Thought you might like some.”
“Wow, that’s so nice of you,” he said, taking the plate. “It looks so summery.”
“It’s my summer plate special,” I admitted.
“I’m actually just in the middle of installing the baseboards, and I kind of wanted to finish that today so, uh, is it rude
if I put this in the fridge and eat it when I’m done?”
I realized then it was only 4:30 p.m.
“Of course,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment.
“I don’t mean to be rude, this really looks amazing.”
“No it’s fine, I just realized how early it is for dinner,” I admitted.
I’d learned the other day that everyone ate dinner around six in the county because I’d driven to the store at six and I thought everyone had been raptured.
I was the only car on Main Street. But I’d been so hungry when I woke up after my nap that it seemed like the right time for dinner.
“Of course. Yeah. I wondered if you were going to have a fire later?”
He paused. “I wasn’t going to, you know, I think it’s calling for rain tonight.”
He either wasn’t getting my drift about wanting to hang out or he was putting me down nicely. Most likely the latter. I got
the hint. Maybe I thought we were going to kiss the other day, and he thought I’d just stood terribly close to him for two
minutes for no reason.
“Cool, yeah. Anyway, enjoy!” I backed away and nearly stumbled on the final step.
I wanted to run back to my cabin, but I forced myself to walk at a normal, casual pace.
I ate my meal while listening to a podcast about the science of laughter, feeling restless and really missing being able to wander next door to see Marlon and Kris.
I could say anything to Marlon. I felt known by him.
My whole goal for finding my soulmate was to feel the ease I felt around Marlon, the way I knew that everything I found funny would also make him laugh.
It’s cheesy for people to say they want to find a partner who is their best friend, but why wouldn’t you want that?
I had felt that way with Buckeye at camp, too.
Like he really understood me. Having him next door, reminding me of that but also being an entirely different person now that he’d grown up, was a bit of a tease.
Perhaps you couldn’t go back once that much time had passed.
I’d likely changed in ways I couldn’t understand either.
I was much more cynical than I had been at nineteen, having not yet been through the ringer of rejection that comes with both the job and the single-gal-on-dating-apps kind of life.
I checked Tinder. A string of likes from men I probably wouldn’t have anything in common with.
I was washing dishes at 5:30 when I got a text from Ben: Where are you? The gang’s all on the 555 pizza patio, gossiping about the campers! It’s our Thursday ritual. Can I buy you
several drinks?
Why the hell not, I answered.
I looked at all my outfits now hanging up in the closet and pulled out a loose-fitting navy romper. I paired it with my heeled
sandals and matching suede purse, slid on a little of the magic red lipstick gifted from the makeup artist on set. I put my
hair in two little ponytails, as is my right as a millennial, and sprayed a little Santal on my wrists. Good to go.
The patio, situated right at the main intersection in town, was hopping. My table of camp coworkers was as loud and boisterous
as the campers had been all day. I was already a drink behind. Allegra was telling a very long story about a theatrical mishap at school, gesturing and quoting Shakespeare and making everyone
laugh, and I finally saw the actress part of her that had been more subdued at camp.
When the cute, bearded server came around, I pointed my finger at one of the local beers and went for a full pint. Why not?
The only one who wasn’t there was Neve. I mostly listened as everyone talked about their workshops, which kids they loved,
who drove them nuts. It turned out Jimmy was a bit of a handful, mostly because he was so much smarter than everyone else
his age. I confessed that I’d named the four sixteen-year-old girls the Heathers, and that got a laugh.
“I really love Hailey, though. She seems quite smart.”
“She is very smart,” agreed Ben. The table got a bit quiet.
“What? C’mon, don’t keep the city gal out of the loop.”
“I don’t know what you mean, either,” said Allegra, picking all the toppings off her pizza with a fork.
“Oh my god, you all haaate her,” teased Noah. “Is that it?”
“No, no,” said Alan. “She’s just had a hard year. Her mom is the school board trustee, and she’s a little bit bonkers. You
know.”
“What kind of bonkers?”
“She’s like, evangelical, so she wants kids to die of measles, basically,” Ben summarized.
“Ben, people should be able to have their own take on things,” Alan chastised.
“I mean, yes, for things that don’t kill children or make them scared to be gay.”
“Agree to disagree. She’s got a right to her beliefs.”
“Alan, no one has the right to be an abusive parent. And you have a giant orange NDP sign outside your house every election,
and a husband!”
Noah looked at Allegra with an I knew it look.
“I still think people are too reactionary these days.”
“Well, I think people like Hailey’s mom are the reactionaries.”
“That must be hard,” I interrupted, trying to bring the heat down, “on Hailey.”
“Yeah, she’s very creative and a good critical thinker, but I don’t think her mother approves of the camp. I think she paid
for it all on her own. She goes right from camp to serving at two different restaurants almost every day. I think she’s putting
lots of money away so she can get out of here as fast as she can after graduation,” said Ben.
“That’s what I did in high school,” I said, “only I worked at the movie theatre. It’s good to have a work ethic when you’re
young.”
“I don’t know, there’s plenty of time to work when you’re an adult,” Alan said.
“Adolescence is fleeting. I’m glad I gave my kids the chance to figure it all out before they had to be on the job market.
I just hate young people thinking they have to leave the county.
We’re a very progressive place. I hope she comes back to start a family someday. ”
Allegra and Noah exchanged a look like Who is this old guy? And Ben scrolled his phone. More pizzas arrived. I ordered another beer. By the time I got to the bottom of my pint glass
for the second time, the ice in my heart for Ben had melted. He told the table about how we were fake dates for Katie’s wedding,
about how he was the hero swooping in to save me, which wasn’t inaccurate. Then he told them how he also saved me from death
by horse trampling.
“I never would’ve guessed. You seemed so buttoned up and professional all day long,” Noah teased.
“Well, you have to have experiences in order to write about real life, right? Even two very humiliating experiences in one
night.”
“I don’t know, you looked hot when you realized horses might trample you,” Ben said boldly, his leg touching mine under the
table as he winked at me again.
“You were a pretty handsome cowboy coming to my rescue,” the second pint in me admitted.
“Oh my god, are you two . . .” asked Noah, wide-eyed.
We exchanged looks. I couldn’t read him, so I opted for the safest answer. “No, no, just fake dating. Which is easy for an
actor, I think.”
“I don’t know, ask me at the end of summer. Might be the hardest role yet.”
Damn.
“Anyway, I rode a horse last week, so I’m slowly getting over my new fear of beautiful beasts.”
“Yes, ‘Cowboy Dave’ taught you how to ride.” Ben sneered in a playful way.
“What is with you and Dave?!”
“Did you ask him?”
“He was just as evasive as you are.”
He made a little pfft sound.
“It’s a very long, and very old story.”
“Maybe you guys should get over it.”
“That’s up to him, frankly.” Ben’s tone had switched from flirty to serious and maybe a bit annoyed.
“I’ll drop it, sorry.”
“Neve told me that you and Dave had some big love story in your early twenties.”
“Oh yeah? What does she know about me and Dave?”
“Well, the backstory is that my dad and Dave’s dad were rivals in high school. The families didn’t love each other anyway.
Dave’s dad was always in trouble and my dad’s family was super Christian, pastors and farmers, you know.” I didn’t but I was
rapt.
“Then Neve and Dave fell in love in high school, you know,” Ben continued. “Went to prom and everything. Our parents hated
it. Well, Dave’s mom couldn’t be fussed to pay much attention. They broke up when she went to college and Dave stayed back
for a gap year, trying to figure stuff out. But they were on again, off again. I was a few years younger, so I’m not totally
sure the particulars, so these are the broad strokes. Then he goes to work at that camp and falls in love with someone—you,
I gather. He sends her a letter breaking it off for good. She was off in Montreal having lots of theatre school romances,
so it wasn’t that bad for her, but it was significant, as they say, that they were kind of Romeo and Juliet at one point.”