Susie"s face melts into the biggest grin. "I can dig out sauce, too, and even those cherries you like so much, Fiona. We can make sundaes!" She spins around and heads toward the kitchen, still babbling about the different things we can add and how lovely it is outside.
Fiona turns to me and raises her eyebrows in a familiar show of disdain.
"She means well," I argue, praying her mood-switch holds. And, thank G.o.d, it does.
Fiona lets out a weary sigh, but there"s no tantrum, just the mutter, "There better be chocolate."
We spend the afternoon lounging around in the sun, even though there are a million other things Susie needs to be doing. (Well, Susie and I lie in the sun; Fiona pulls her blanket into the shade and sits there with a drooping sunhat and sunblock slathered everywhere.) Fiona manages not to make a b.i.t.c.hy comment every ten seconds, and in exchange, I manage to convey to Susie that enthusiastic chatter doesn"t exactly help her cause. After fluttering around, making sure we"re fully stocked with sundae ingredients, she finally settles down on the gra.s.s with one of my cast-off romance novels and a glow of contentment.
"Can you pa.s.s the Cool Whip?" Fiona stirs a gloopy concoction that would send even the healthiest person into a diabetic coma. She pauses and then with super-human effort adds, "Please?"
I nearly faint.
"Here you go!" Susie pa.s.ses her the can. Fiona rolls onto her back and proceeds to squirt artificial cream right into her mouth.
"Eww, gross!" I cry, throwing a jelly bean at her.
"Shut up," she says through the cream.
"Wait, hold that so I can immortalize you." I reach for my camera. Fiona ignores me and flips back onto her stomach, but I start shooting anyway, capturing her lazy pose and the way her hat sends crisscrosses of light over her face. I switch between manual and automatic modes quickly to try different lighting effects, more practiced now.
"Can I see?" Fiona asks.
"Sure." I pa.s.s her the camera and watch, a little nervous, as she flicks through the past weeks of images on the digital screen. Too late, I realize there are a few of Reeve - shirtless - in there, but I hope the other stuff disguises my attention to his details. "It"s just for fun. I mean, it"s not supposed to be like a portfolio or anything."
She lingers on a set of photos I did the other week: a series of the guys with their Rock Band instruments, caught in action during a song. "Those were hard," I say. She"s looking at one of Grady flipping his drumsticks. "The light down there was weird, and I had to try and get the movement . . ."
"No, these are . . . actually good." She sounds surprised.
"Thanks." I feel kind of shy. "Like I said, they"re just a fun thing." I never really had time for art stuff before, what with all my Green Teen commitments, but out here, I"ve got nothing but time. My collection of photos is actually a big file by now, and I make a note to upload them to Susie"s computer soon.
"Look, Susie, she"s got one of you and Dad." Fiona pushes the camera in her direction. It"s only a snapshot of them working on the back wall, but Susie can"t stop tears from welling up. I have a feeling it"s less about my magnificent photography skills than Fiona"s civil tone.
"Thank you, Jenna." Her bottom lip is trembling.
"No problem." I exchange a look with Fiona, and we go back to our ice cream and books in silence for the rest of the afternoon.
I think it"s the closest thing to domestic harmony this place has ever seen.
Beep.
"Olivia! Hey, how are you? Just calling to see what"s up, but I guess you"re out saving the earth or in that yoga cabin again. Umm, nothing much to report here . . . Oh, Fiona"s actually acting like a human being now - it"s a total mystery, but I"ll tell you all that in person. I"m just heading over to Ethan"s to hang out with everyone. Anyway, miss you. Call me!"
Beep.
"Hey, Livvy . . . Voice mail again . . . OK. Things are going fine here, good, actually. I spent the day down at the lake today, and Fiona even lent me this old Polaroid camera she hasn"t used in ages, so I was able to get these faded old shots. I wish you had e-mail so I could send scans or something; it gets so pretty here, especially in the evening right before the sun sets - the light is just awesome . . . Umm, hope you"re having fun. Give me a call back when you can!"
Beep.
"Olivia! Since you"re not returning my calls, I figure you"ve either transcended to a whole new plane of existence or you"re shunning modern technology or you"ve pa.s.sed out with hunger from that detox of yours. Is everything OK? I miss you. Call me."
Beep.
"Hey, Livvy, I got your text. All twelve words of it. I"m glad you"re having a good time out there, and things are going good with Cash. But, ummm, maybe you want to think some more about the whole "not going to college" thing? I know we"ve been planning on college together forever, but even if you don"t want to do that, there are tons of other options we can think about. Don"t do anything rash, OK? Anyway, hopefully we can catch up soon. . . . Miss you!"
Beep.
"Hey Olivia, just checking in. But you"re not answering. Again . . . Nothing much to say, just seeing if you"re around. Things are good. I"m just heading out to the woods again, so, I guess call me later, OK? Bye."
You can only prepare for so much. All the planning in the world is no match for the real wilderness - out there, you"ve got to learn to deal with the unexpected. Improvise, adapt, get messy. Nothing"s fun when you can see it coming a mile away.
-"Outdoor Adventuring,"
The Modern Mountain Man"s Survival Guide
"I"ve got something for you." Susie pokes her head out onto the back porch to find me and then emerges, dangling a crisp paper bag from one finger. It"s late on a Friday afternoon, my favorite time of day. The fierce heat of the day has faded, and now there"s a cool breeze slipping through the backyard, the sun sinking lower in the sky.
I push my magazine aside. "Oooh, what?"
She laughs, dropping the bag beside me on the wicker love seat. "Don"t get too excited."
I eagerly open it up, pausing when I find a pale, solid package. "Tofu?"
Susie grins, pulling up the rocking chair opposite. "I ordered it in from a health food company. Lentils and beans, too. I know you"ve been missing that kind of food."
"Aww, that"s really sweet of you." I put the bag aside and hug her. To tell the truth, I haven"t been missing it that much at all. It turns out Adam picks up most of our fruit and vegetables from local farm stands nearby, which is plenty eco-friendly for me, and as for the rest of it . . . well, chalky tofu is no match for Susie"s corn fritters.
"Thank you," I tell her, all the same. "You shouldn"t have gone to the trouble."
"I know." Susie"s pulled her wet hair back into a braid, and she"s actually wearing a crisp shirt instead of her usual paint-splattered T. "But I wanted to say thank you."
"For what?"
She breaks into a proud grin. "We"ve had our first booking!"
"No way - that"s great!" I clap my hands together. "Tell me all the details!"
"It"s a family, from Boston. They"re driving across the province, and they decided to stay with us for a few nights."
"Ah, I"m so happy for you guys!" I reach over and give her a hug. "It"s only the first; there"ll be tons more to come."
Susie beams back. "And it"s all because of you! They found us through the Stillwater website you guys put up, said it sounded "rustic and adventurous." They want to do all those activities you showed, so we"ll have to organize the boys to take them out. For a fee, of course."
"They"ll be happy to," I promise. "That"s really great."
"Isn"t it? And the timing"s perfect, because I"ve got a meeting with the bank this afternoon."
"What for?" I remember that stack of paperwork I wasn"t supposed to see. "Is everything OK?"
"It will be now," she rea.s.sures me, straightening her shirt and smoothing back a stray curl until she looks every inch the respectable business-owner. "And with you and Fiona pitching in, we"re even ahead of schedule." She pauses. "I know I shouldn"t jinx it, but do you know why . . . ?"
"She"s acting human?" I finish. "Nope, no idea. Maybe she finally decided to be mature about it." We pause. "Or maybe she"s been taken over by aliens." I offer a more likely scenario.
"Either way, it"s wonderful." Susie grins.
I nod. A wonderful mystery.
Inspired by the B and B"s first booking, I decide to stop waiting around for Ethan and take charge of the website project myself. He put up the basic Stillwater info and some maps, and we"ve added video footage of the fun activities available around here, but it could be so much more.
"You could go horseback riding," Fiona suggests through a mouthful of raw brownie mix.
"I don"t know. . . ." I hop up on the kitchen cabinet and take a spoonful from the bowl. This time, the baking effort doesn"t seem to be a product of sheer rage, so I figure it"s safe for me to be around. "The stuff we"ve done so far has involved all this expensive equipment - the bikes, the kayaks, the fishing gear."
"What, so you want, like, a hike?" Fiona wrinkles her nose. "Thrilling."
"But it would be a way to get loads of photos of how beautiful it is around here." I ponder, licking brownie mix off my wrist. Now that the idea is in my head, the more I like the plan of going out on another group trip. After all, it"s been four days since I last saw Reeve around town. . . . I catch myself, embarra.s.sed, before I can take the thought any further. "Are there any good trails around?" I ask instead.
"There"s the path up Mount Jacobs."
"A mountain?"
She rolls her eyes. "It"s only like, a big hill. But you get views all over the valley."
"Sounds perfect!" I brighten. "I"ll see if the guys want to do it, maybe tomorrow. I think Grady has the day off."
Fiona begins sc.r.a.ping what"s left of her mix onto a baking sheet. "I could maybe come too," she says, not looking at me.
I blink, surprised. "Umm, sure, that would be cool!"
"But don"t expect me to carry anything."
We meet the next afternoon, equipped with juice, energy bars, a flashlight, and a cardigan - at least, I am. Grady and Fiona look at my bulging backpack with amus.e.m.e.nt, but I"m taking no chances out there in the forest again. Jeremiah B. Coombes would call me a doggone fool if I went out without proper supplies, and in my serious pair of hiking boots and st.u.r.dy shorts, I"m ready for anything.
Almost.
"All set?"
I called to invite him, but Reeve"s arrival still catches me off guard. He slams his truck door and walks over, a water bottle still dripping in his hand. I try very hard not to notice the way his soft blue T-shirt brings out his eyes or how he"s slung his pack diagonally across his chest so it stretches the fabric taut and - "Yup!" I exclaim brightly, hoping my sungla.s.ses hide my expression. "I think we"re just waiting for Ethan." I glance around. Fiona is dressed in a cute red top for a change, her hair actually brushed, while Grady loiters a few feet from her, spinning his baseball cap on his fingertips. He looks up.
"Didn"t he tell you? He has to watch the store today. Our parents are out of town for the weekend."
"Guess you drew the short straw," Fiona says, like it"s a question.
Grady shrugs, looking awkward. "I guess."
"OK then!" I say brightly. "Let"s get going!"
We set out on foot along road that winds up out of town. Grady a.s.sured me it was a half-day hike at most, but I"m not so sure: the peak of Mount Jacobs rises from the valley, blanketed by the same thick forest that stretches all the way down to the lake. It looks pretty far to me.
"Hey." Reeve falls into step beside me, Fiona and Grady lingering behind.
"Hi," I say. Eloquent, I know, but it seems like Reeve is feeling just as talkative. We fall into a companionable silence for a while, walking in the shadows of the forest, with sunlight falling through the tall pine trees. The air is hot and close, and soon I peel off my cardigan, tying it around my waist.
"I hope it doesn"t storm later." Reeve looks up at the clear, blue sky. I laugh.
"Seriously? It hasn"t rained all week."
"Exactly." He gives me that half smile of his, the one that only curls his lips at the edges. The one that makes me shiver. "They can creep up on you."
"Oh . . ." I fall silent again, unable to think of a single interesting thing to say. I stifle a sigh instead. It didn"t used to be like this, I know: I was getting comfortable around him, just hanging out like I do with Ethan. But now? Even mustering a basic sentence seems fraught with peril.
"So, uh, how are things with the B and B? It was looking good today."
"Yes!" I quickly fill him in with the good news about the booking. "That reminds me . . ." I pull out my camera and take a few shots of the surrounding forest. And then I casually snap some of Reeve, too. I need to give Olivia as much visual evidence as possible when I talk about him, I figure. If I ever get her on the phone, that is.
Reeve puts his hands in his pockets and looks away awkwardly, but once I tuck the camera away, he glances at me again. "I wouldn"t have thought you"d be into helping out with the tourism project," he says casually, kicking a rock along the road. "I mean, isn"t that what you"re against?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know, tourists damaging the perfect, natural wilderness," he says. "All those cars, with their bad, bad gas fumes . . ."
"Hey!" I get that he"s teasing me.
"What? That"s your thing, right - environmentalism?"
I shrug, s.n.a.t.c.hing a leaf from a branch as I pa.s.s. I begin to tear it into strips. "Well, yes, but not when you put it like that."
"So how would you put it?" Reeve"s tone is still light, but I get the feeling there"s more under the question than he"s letting on.
I carefully consider my reply. This was a touchy subject with us from the start, and if this is some kind of test, I desperately want to pa.s.s it.
"I don"t see anything wrong with letting people know how beautiful it is here, and we"re doing things to be eco-friendly, like recycling." My big ideas for expensive renovations may have been unrealistic, but there have been plenty of small things to keep the impact low. "I mean, the B and B gets guests, there"s more trade in town - everyone wins. Although, I"d prefer it if they didn"t drive cross-country in a huge SUV," I can"t help from adding.
He chuckles, and I slowly let out a sigh of relief.
Soon, we veer off-road, into the forest at the base of the mountain. The terrain is too steep to just hike straight up, so we follow a broad zigzag of a trail, walking diagonally across the width of the peak before crossing back, a little higher every pa.s.s. By the time we stop for a rest about halfway up, my thighs are aching and I"m sweating hard.
"Just a large hill?" I tell Fiona, taking a gulp of juice.
Somehow, she"s barely out of breath. "Suck it up."