Chapter 30
I help Mom along the stone path to the welcome court, her arm in mine as we’re greeted by a few dozen folks who beat us here.
Carmela lifts the fruit salad from my arms to ferry it to the buffet table.
Adelaide rushes over and shimmies me out of the way, supporting Mom as the crowd envelops her with comments about how well she looks, that her color’s back, and that they’re glad to see her out and about.
There’s so much love here, a town full of people invested in her health.
Should she decide to seek treatment, the entire community will celebrate her decision.
The camp courtyard is dressed up for the occasion with red-checked tablecloths and mason jars filled with wildflowers sitting atop the old picnic tables.
String lights are stretched between the bordering redwoods.
Music drifts from the speakers, and the air is thick with the scent of sprinklers on concrete and charcoal briquettes. It smells like summer.
I catch sight of Caleb from across the courtyard, leaning against the gym wall, chatting with Ian and Abby.
Abby has Benny on her hip and twirls in circles as he throws his head back and giggles before they spiral away from the tight group.
Fiona is more subdued, clinging to her dad with both arms. I haven’t seen Caleb since we fell asleep entwined in each other last night, and I’m excited about the possibilities our next conversation may hold.
I know the moment Caleb sees me—his focus is telekinetic—and his smile pulls me to him. I weave between picnic tables, tugged to their quiet corner by the sheer force of him.
“Hey, you,” he says on an exhale.
“Hi.”
“You’re stunning,” he says.
My smile takes over my face. “Thank you.”
I dressed up tonight in a hunter-green halter dress that makes my eyes look like sea glass and my skin more porcelain than pale.
Cassie packed it for me for a special occasion, which I assumed would never materialize.
I straightened my hair and applied mascara and lip gloss.
I am a definite “after” compared to all the “before” months spent in faded jeans and plain T-shirts—the “before” months when Caleb liked me anyway—so I’m pleased to learn he appreciates this version of me, too.
And Caleb is gorgeous tonight even though, or especially because, he is exactly the Caleb I’ve come to adore—casual, confident, and in his element.
An entire conversation passes between us. Caleb looks like he’s undressing me in his head and making plans for later.
Ian glances from Caleb to me and back before he utters a soft, “Oh.”
I snap out of it, my face heating under Ian’s knowing smile. “Hi,” I say, this time to him, my voice finally under control.
Ian grins wider, a little glint in his eye. It’s clear Caleb isn’t pretending anymore. Maybe we won’t have to for much longer.
“Hi, Fiona.” I peek around Ian to catch her sleepy gaze. She shifts her face away.
“No nap today,” Ian says, an apology for her avoidance. But I wasn’t offended. “I’m going to check on Lina. She’s due tomorrow but insisted on coming anyway.”
“Never argue with a pregnant woman,” Caleb says, and Ian chuckles as he and Fiona slip away. I hear Abby’s giggle and Benny’s squeal, but they’ve disappeared around the side of the welcome court.
“So much for discretion,” I say.
Caleb shoves his hands deep into the pockets of his Levi’s, his triceps bunching at the slight pressure, his shoulders rising. He bites his bottom lip, holding back a grin. “Fuck discretion.”
I almost do just that, tempted to step forward and kiss him, but Benny barrels between us, and Abby sprints in pursuit.
“Hi, Eden,” Abby yells in a blur of long limbs and glossy ponytail.
It pulls us out of our spell. “Perhaps we should save our indiscretions for later.”
He steps forward, spinning me toward the party with his hand on the small of my back and leaning in to whisper into my ear, “Promises, promises.”
His breath coaxes goose bumps from my skin. I clear my throat and cast him an admonishing look to steer us back to social respectability. “What’s the deal with this party?”
“Sonny did a trial run before the kids arrived each summer—a cookout to test the kitchens, barbecues, sound systems, like a rehearsal dinner. And it became a tradition.”
“It was one of Sonny’s many excuses to party?”
“Basically.”
We’re swallowed by the crowd as we return to the courtyard. Caleb is pulled away by a man I don’t recognize, and I know I’ve lost him when the man asks about a mysterious illness affecting his trees. Someone turns up the music, and Adelaide declares the food line open.
I fill my plate with three types of salads bursting with color, garlic bread, and more barbecued meat than I can identify.
I tuck in beside Mom, Adelaide, Carmela, and a group of locals whose names are rattled off in a blur.
Ian mixes up pitchers of a lemonade cocktail that’s tart, sweet, and strong, and I’m drawn in by the lure of the enchanted evening among new friends in a place so welcoming it feels like home.
My body warms, and my inhibitions dissolve, and I imagine enjoying nights like these for a lifetime.
I envision making my temporary life my real life.
I think I could be happy here with Mom, Caleb, and the community they’ve cultivated.
I can see it. I can feel it.
Abby slides in beside me when dessert is served, her plate piled high with strawberry shortcake, a lemon bar, and a brownie.
The sun has set, and the string lights set her face aglow in a golden wash.
Caleb is ever present in her smile. Her joy is his.
And I know I’m jumping ahead—shamelessly springing forward like a middle schooler signing her name with the surname of her crush—but I see in Abby the possibility of our future children.
I can finally admit to myself—wholeheartedly, unabashedly—that I want children of my own.
Jeff would debate me on the illogic of procreation—the earth cannot support the booming population, and resources will run out.
I would withdraw from the argument because he was right, there is no logic to my innate longing to be a mother.
But sometimes our deepest desires are illogical.
I want to nurse my newborn, hold my toddler’s hand, watch my grade schooler in a talent show, and drop my teen off around the corner when she meets her friends.
Maybe it’s silly. But I want it. And I’m tired of settling for comfort when happiness requires risk—I’m done being too complacent to reach for what I want.
“You look like you’re contemplating the meaning of life,” Abby says around a mouthful of strawberries and whipped cream.
“I guess I am,” I admit.
“Have you figured it out?” She looks at me with wide eyes.
“Nope.”
“Yeah, me neither.” She points to her dessert plate. “But I figure I may as well eat dessert until I do.”
“You are a wise young woman.” I laugh. “What do you have planned this summer?”
“Swim practice at the crack of dawn. I’ll do a lot of big sistering once my mom has the baby.” She gestures to Lina, who is standing at the end of the picnic table, speaking with Dakota.
Lina has a hand on her belly, absently soothing her unborn child like instinct. She’s beautiful pregnant, even though she wears the mark of discomfort—a hitch in her posture, a pinch in her brow.
Abby continues, “And I’ll be here helping my dad and Ian. I do a bunch of odd jobs for them on the weekends to get ready for the next group of campers. I’m saving for a new phone.”
I feel a fist knocking on a fond memory. I did the same for Sonny. “No vacations?”
“Dad and Ian are too busy in the summers. Sometimes Dad and I’ll go somewhere for spring break or New Year’s. But we don’t go far.”
I’m not sure I can imagine them anywhere but here, but perhaps we’ll travel together someday. I can show Abby the world so she’ll be ready to storm it, and pull Caleb out of his comfort zone in the same way he’s done for me.
A few folks have taken to the floor to dance—couples, kids, and teens. Ian pulls Lina out to the center.
“What about you?” Abby asks.
“Me?” I’ve lost track of the conversation.
“This summer. You’re not really leaving, are you?”
I can’t have this conversation with Abby. Even if I stay, Caleb will need to decide how to tell his daughter. I imagine a new relationship will be destabilizing for her—she’s had him all to herself when she’s had to share everything else. “I’m not sure,” I hedge.
“Well, I think you should stay. We all like you.” She turns to face me fully, hitching one knee up on the bench beside us, and she scans our surroundings as if she’s about to do something illicit.
“Especially my dad. It’s all ‘Eden this’ and ‘Eden that.’” She leans closer, gesturing wildly with her hands.
“I think you should ask him out. Look, I know he needs to shave and dresses like a hobo, but he can cook, clean, and play the guitar, and he’s always sweet when you get sick and takes care of everyone in this town, and Ellie’s and Teri’s moms both say he’s like cute or whatever.
” She mimes gagging herself. “But he’s a good guy.
He even puts the toilet seat down. Benny and Ian do not. ”
She stares at me expectantly, as if she’s awaiting my answer, but my jaw is slack. I do not know how to respond without giving us away or shattering her hopes.
“What are you two conspiring about?” Caleb’s voice disrupts the awkward stalemate, and Abby jolts back.
“Nothing. Nothing,” she stammers.
Caleb looks at me, his brows drawn together. “I was kidding, but now I’m concerned.”
I give him a tight shake of my head, a universal signal of drop it before Abby puts us both on the spot and has us married off by the end of the evening.
“All right,” he says, still suspicious. But he slides a plate in front of me. “This is Carmela’s mint chocolate cheesecake. I thought you’d like it.”