22. Natalie
Natalie
We pitched our idea of hanging tourist-related photos on the walls of the cabin to Cam and Jules this afternoon at lunch.
They’re all for it and have offered to pay me for my services, but I declined.
I’ll do anything I can to wedge myself back into their lives.
And if that means taking photos for free and sucking up to my older sister, then that’s what I’ll do. I’m not above a little groveling.
But then, when we mention updating the photos on their online listing, Cam is hesitant.
“Would we have to refurnish it?” he asks.
“Do you think better photos would even help if we don’t have the cabin more up-to-date?
” He sips hot coffee from a diner mug and sets it down with a quiet clack on the wooden table.
Jules is sitting beside him in the shiny red booth, sharing a plate of crispy fries between them.
My eyes meet Luke’s and we both shake our heads. “I don’t think so,” I answer. “I think the house looks great the way it is. You have great furniture in there for the ‘rustic cabin’ style you have it listed as.”
Jules smiles at Cam, her eyes soft. “I told you. It’s fine; it looks great. Some portraits on the walls and new photos for the listing, and we’ll have that place booked solid all year.”
Juliet’s optimism, and the way she senses what Cam needs to hear, is fascinating to watch.
And she isn’t just saying what she thinks will talk him off a ledge—she’s actually telling him what she believes.
She believes in this cabin, which in turn is telling him that she believes in him.
That he can get it rented out for the winter season, and she’ll be there to help and support him.
His eyes crease as he smiles back at her.
Mom and Dad stayed at the house to watch the boys.
It’s been a relief having a few minutes with my sister and her husband without four extra pairs of eyes watching me.
I know everyone’s only interested in getting to know me, but sometimes the pressure makes my chest feel heavy.
Too much attention in high-stress situations—like returning to my family roughly ten years after running away—causes my anxiety to threaten an attack on my nervous system.
Silverware taps against plates, and the hum of conversation floats around us from other tables nearby.
The diner looks different than I remember it.
It has updated flooring, and the walls might have been painted.
It’s hard to remember exactly what it was before.
The breathing room at the diner is a reprieve, however, as Luke’s elbow brushes my arm.
Having him with me is a balm to my fractured heart.
Without him, I was treading water, sinking slowly.
But he’s my life raft, the sun that guides me.
He hasn’t been here long, but he’s already held me afloat more than once.
The waitress walks up to our table, and we each order our meals. Fish for Luke, a burger for Cam, meatloaf for Jules, and I order a soup and salad.
Juliet takes a bite and waves at me with her fork. “You mentioned hanging photos of winter activities specifically to get renters interested in the winter. How are you going to do that when it’s summer?” She points her fork toward the scene outside our booth window.
A family of five walk along the sidewalk licking ice cream cones. Pink and white flowers bloom from planters, and little trees line the street in a decorative display down Main Street.
“I’m not really sure,” I answer, my shoulders drooping.
“What if we changed out the pictures seasonally?” Cam pipes up, glancing at Juliet.
“Maybe Natalie can take summer photos while she’s here, and we’ll add those to the walls until winter comes around.
The seasons inside the cabin can change along with the seasons outside.
I’m sure we can get some good winter photos ourselves during the first snow and add them to the cabin when it’s time. ”
Luke’s face stretches into a smile, his mouth full of salmon. “I love that. Good idea,” he mumbles around the food. Light shines through the large window beside us, illuminating the many freckles that cascade over his nose and under his eyes.
Luke is comfortable here. I’m surprised.
It’s shocking, really, to see how well he’s fitting into my family and enjoying the mountains.
He talks with Cam and Jules like he’s known them since boyhood.
I bet my brother, Tyler, will like him too.
Mom and Dad love him already, although I wonder if they harbor any hard feelings toward him since he’s the reason I left.
I haven’t been brave enough to ask them.
“And we can come back in the winter to take those pictures,” Luke adds. He sips water from his straw while Jules and Cam nod in thoughtful agreement.
I turn to him in surprise. “You’d want to come back to take photos?”
He frowns, laughing a little. “Of course. Why not?”
Because I’m not sure what our future looks like. Because I don’t know where we’ll be by the time winter rolls around. Because I haven’t felt completely blended back into my family enough to plan a future trip back here.
I shrug. “No reason. Just didn’t know you liked the cold.”
“I don’t,” he says, laughing. “But I’d come back for you.”
“Aww.” Jules smiles from across the table. “That’s sweet. But I’m with you on the weather—I hate the cold.”
“She does,” Cam states, straight-faced. “Absolutely hates it. One time her fingers turned white, and she forced me to let her stick her hands under my armpits for thirty minutes.”
Luke snorts. “Did it help?”
“It did, but I hated every minute of it.” He side-eyes his wife. “It wasn’t even winter.”
“Are you sure?” Juliet’s mouth twitches. “I’m pretty sure it was winter.”
“It was fall. Early fall. It was barely even fifty degrees yet.”
I chuckle and chew a crunchy piece of lettuce and swallow. “You should have just moved somewhere else then. Chase the sun. Everyone else did.”
Everyone at the table falls silent, causing me to look up to find what’s gotten everyone’s attention.
Juliet’s eyes bore a hole into my skull. Her face has gone red. She drops her fork on the table, which rings as it hits a spoon, and Cam winces.
Looking between them, I slowly lower my fork, wiping my lips with a napkin. “What’s wrong?” Heat grows up my neck, and my face burns. I know my cheeks are cherry red without seeing a mirror. Attention is on me. Whatever I said was clearly the wrong thing to say.
Juliet’s eyes flick across the table to Luke, and her face shifts instantly to one of stoicism.
Her lips pull up into a forced smile, and the V formed by her thick brows softens.
It’s like I imagined the flaming daggers that shot from her eyes, but I still feel the heat of them on my skin, so I know it was real.
Cam clears his throat and rubs his hand along his reddish-brown beard.
He looks at me. “When I was fifteen, my parents moved us to Washington state for my dad’s job.
I never wanted to leave, but I didn’t exactly have a choice.
So, anyway, I always knew I wanted to move back when I was older.
It’s the only place I’ve ever really felt like I was home, ya know?
” He rests a hand on Juliet’s leg under the table.
Her shoulders relax. “We don’t plan to ever leave,” he says.
“Makes sense,” says Luke. “I didn’t grow up in a place like this, but I can understand the appeal.
It’s quiet here, even for a tourist town.
Growing up near Miami was totally different.
Traffic all the time, palm trees everywhere, no variety of wildlife—unless you count the seagulls and lizards.
They’re everywhere. Well, you might see dolphins occasionally.
But here you’ve got bears, deer, foxes.” He tips his chin toward Cam. “Do you hunt?”
Once again, Luke rescues me from sinking. I’m glad he’s changed the subject as I lower my eyes back to my plate.
“I do,” Cam answers. He finishes his meal and takes the opportunity to rest his arm over Juliet’s shoulders. She hasn’t touched her food since the death glare. “I mostly fish, but I do some hunting with buddies now and then.”
I want to ask Cam if he’s taken Levi and Archie fishing, but when I catch sight of Juliet’s sullen expression, I back off. A twisting feeling sinks into my gut as the nightmare of being hated by my family rises again like shadows.
The men talk about outdoorsy stuff for the remainder of lunch, and I sit in silence and do my best to keep my eyes clear of Jules.