Wildfire: A Novel (The Maple Hills Series)
Wildfire: A Novel: Chapter 30

What’s the word for when you replace yourself exactly where you’re supposed to be?

I feel at peace with myself and my life for the first time and there’s nothing that can derail that. Today is finally Visiting Day. A lot leave site for the day and only come back for the evening barbeque and games; some families don’t visit at all.

I hated Visiting Day when I was a camper. Some years my parents didn’t come because Elsa wanted to visit our grandparents, so they’d take the childfree opportunity to take a vacation and try and save their unsavable marriage. Other years only Mom came. The worst year was when Mom, Dad and Elsa came and they made me so miserable, Jenna gave me an extra bowl of ice cream when they all left.

All our kids are expected to be taken off site today, meaning we’ve all got the easiest day ahead. Emilia forgot about the camera Poppy bought her to document the summer and has, therefore, documented nothing and today is our do-over day.

“Do you think we need outfit changes as well?” Emilia asks as I throw different hair options into a purse with my cellphone, headphones and a paperback about a princess and her hot bodyguard.

“I love you and I love Pops, but I am not stripping behind a tree for either of you. It’s a uniform and it has a bear on it; why would we ever want to wear anything else?”

I’m not saying I’m an expert at candid shots, but I am. We set up camp at a picnic bench not far from our cabin and I give Emilia my best work, changing my hairstyle so the photos look like different days. It’s when I’m pretending to laugh at Xander, whose back is, thankfully, to the camera, that we realize this isn’t going to be easy.

The dogs are more photogenic than the guys, which is no exaggeration.

“Russ, stop grimacing,” Emilia yells at him. She stomps over showing me the camera and he honestly looks like he’s sitting on a wasp’s nest.

“You’re too pretty to be this bad at being photographed,” I say, flicking through the pictures. I hand the camera back to Emilia and ask her to go back to where she was so I can try something.

“And what about me?” Xander asks, picking Salmon up to cuddle.

“Put the dog down!” we all say at the same time, which is met with a grunt and an eyeroll.

“You’re pretty, Xan,” Russ says, flinching as I try to force his face into a more relaxed position with my hands. “What are you doing?”

“I’m relaxing you.”

“This is not relaxing, Aurora.”

Looking around, I check there isn’t anyone hanging around near us before leaning in and kissing Russ. I wasn’t expecting him to respond so enthusiastically but his hand grabs the back of my neck, keeping me in place.

Xander loudly heaves, which is when Russ lets me go. “It’s kinda selfish for you guys to do that when I haven’t had sex for two months. Just saying.”

I wish I could bottle the way I feel after Russ kisses me. I reluctantly drag my eyes from Russ to scowl at our friend. “You saw Clay naked, surely that counts for something?”

“You two are disgusting,” Emilia says as she approaches us, handing over her camera again. “I miss my girlfriend.”

I lean over so Russ can see them as well, starting with his grimace ones, clicking all the way through our kiss to the ones from a few seconds ago. I never understood the saying heart skips a beat until right now, looking at how Russ looks at me when I’m not looking at him.

Russ kisses my shoulder and goosebumps travel down my arm. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers.

This is what being wanted and valued feels like.

This is the feeling I want forever.

Emilia is taking pictures of the guys throwing a football, something they both protested about, but much to the delight of the dogs. Emilia snapped that there was no way for her to combine basketball and hockey into a sport she could photograph and to get over it.

I’m flicking through my book when my cellphone starts vibrating in my purse. I don’t know where the noise is coming from at first; I brought it out as a photo prop and I’ve kind of forgotten it exists after so many weeks hardly touching it.

Reaching into my purse to retrieve it, I almost drop it on the ground when I see man who pays the rent staring back at me.

“Hello,” I say, fully anticipating he may have butt dialed me.

“I’ve been trying to reach you for more than twenty-four hours.”

There’s that Roberts charm I love so much. “Sorry, Dad. I’m at camp, the service here is terrible.”

He huffs, like somehow my inability to control whatever it is that makes cell service a thing is inconveniencing him. “I need to share some news with you. I proposed to Norah over the weekend and she said yes.”

“That’s . . . ,” not a surprise, “incredible, Dad. Congratulations to you both.”

Maybe that’s why he’s so frustrated about not being able to reach me. He was worried I’d replace out from someone else. Dad has had tons of girlfriends over the years, but as soon as he started letting Norah post him online, I knew it wouldn’t be long until there was a wedding.

I’m not Norah’s biggest fan out of principle. But if he’s going to marry someone, I’m at least glad he’s marrying someone closer to his own age and not the women closer to mine and Elsa’s ages, like he was doing for a while.

Mom called it his midlife crisis.

“You being at camp has made it difficult to organize a bridesmaid dress. Your mother told me you’re home on the fifteenth, correct?”

I don’t know which thing to follow first. The fact I’m wanted as a bridesmaid or the fact my mom and dad have talked. Norah has her own kids, so I wouldn’t have expected to be included in the wedding party and I can’t imagine Dad advocating for my involvement. “Yeah, Dad, the fifteenth.”

“I’ll have Brenda change your flight home; email her the details along with your current measurements. You’ll need to fly straight to Palm Springs for this to work out.”

Palm Springs? “For what to work out?”

I hear him sigh. “The wedding, Aurora. Are you listening properly? We would like a short honeymoon before summer break ends and I have to go to Europe for the Dutch Grand Prix.”

My words catch in my throat. “You’re getting married so soon?”

“Yes, Aurora. And I need you to fly straight to Palm Springs for this to work out. Do you understand?”

His snippy tone should hurt me more than it does, but my brain is scrambling as I realize he’s waiting for me to be free instead of just doing it without me. Jesus Christ the bar really is on the floor. “I understand, Dad. I’m excited to see what dress Norah picks. Thanks, uhm, thank you for letting me be a part of it.”

“Of course you’re a part of it, Aurora. You’re my daughter.” I’m stunned to silence. It’s such a basic statement from a parent. It’s not even something particularly kind but from my dad it’s major. Weirdly, I feel like my recent happiness caused this. Put out good energy into the universe and get it back. Silly, but comforting all the same.

I want to tell him how much that small statement means to me. How it’s everything I’ve ever needed and how I desperately want to have a good relationship with him, but I don’t get a chance to, because he starts talking again. “And it’d look strange in the photos if you’re not there. I’m not having Norah’s moment stolen by the media’s obsession with giving you and your sister attention.”

My heart sinks. “So you only want me there for the photographs?”

“Is there something wrong with you today? What aren’t you understanding?” he snaps impatiently. “Norah has arranged a magazine exclusive. Yes, you need to be there for the photographs. I’m not having our day overshadowed by rumors of a family divide because of you.”

I feel numb. “Okay. Do I get a plus one?”

“Do you need a plus one? Who is it? Emily?”

“Emilia,” I correct him. “But no, not her. I met someone. He’s cal—”

“Met someone where, exactly?”

I don’t know why my hands are sweating, but they are. “At camp. He’s cal—”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Aurora. I’m not letting you bring a stranger to a private family occasion.” He interrupts me again and I can feel my heart pounding as my frustration grows. “You won’t even remember who he is after you stop playing make believe at that farm. Be realistic for once, for Christ’s sake. It’s my wedding, not a children’s birthday party.”

My throat is completely dry, but I force the words out anyway. “He’s important to me, Dad. I’d like to bring him. We go to the same college, it is realistic, we like each other.”

He sighs and I feel it all the way in my bones. It’s like acid. “I’m sure your fling is very important and special, but I said no. Can I trust you to be there alone, Aurora? Yes or no?”

Fling. “Yes.”

“Good. I’ll see you in a few weeks. Bye.”

The call disconnects before I can say bye back and I sit in the same spot frozen, trying to process how my day was bulldozed by a three-minute phone call.

I don’t know what I thought would happen when I answered his call. I could have stopped talking at “you’re my daughter” and been blissfully unaware. I’d have spent the rest of the day floating around feeling untouchable. But I went too far, asked too much.

If I wasn’t so desperate for something I’m clearly never going to get, or if I grew up and stopped being pathetic about the fact he doesn’t care, maybe I wouldn’t feel like I’m being run over when I talk to him.

I need to get away from here and that’s the thing I repeat over and over as I somehow get myself from the picnic table to my cabin. Sitting down on my bed, I lean against the wall while I replay the conversation over and over in my head.

I think about what I said and how he responded, then what I could have said instead and how he might have responded to that. I keep going and going and going, until there’s an endless stream of dialogue spinning around my head and I can’t do anything to get the outcome I want.

The outcome where he changes and I feel like he wants me in his life for more than just media purposes.

My hands are shaking as I pull my suitcase from the wardrobe and open it on my bed. I love Honey Acres but pretending it’s my home when it’s not, is silly. Dad’s right, it’s all make believe. They’re just people who were paid to look after me and probably took pity on me.

I don’t know why I brought so many things with me knowing I’d hardly wear any of them. It’s just making it harder to get out of here quickly. I don’t know why I believed I’d last the summer. My shorts won’t fold. Jenna knew I wouldn’t deep down. No matter what angle I twist and turn them in they look messy and uneven in my suitcase. I wonder if Emilia thought I’d fail too. Russ is great at folding my clothes.

I could go to Bora Bora and turn off my cellphone.

I don’t even need a cellphone. Fuck, I might just throw it in the trash.

Why won’t these shorts fucking fold properly?

I need to tell someone to make sure Freya remembers to put on her bug spray and that Michael doesn’t eat anything with sugar after six p.m. I’ll miss the talent show, but Emilia can make it work without me. Everyone will be fine. Opening the drawer in my bedside table to empty it, I spot the origami dove Russ made for me next to my collection of friendship bracelets the kids have made for me.

I sink to the floor beside my bed as my chest constricts and years of hurt that I’ve buried beneath reckless actions and self-deprecating jokes finally soar to the surface as a sob. It’s like the dam breaks and I just let the tears fall because there’s nothing else to do and no one else who can fix it.

I’m not sure how long I’m sitting here before I hear his footsteps. “Ror?”

The cabin door opens and I can only imagine how chaotic it looks in here. Suits me though, I suppose. Russ sinks to the floor in front of me, immediately reaching for my face to wipe away the tears. “Going somewhere, Roberts?” he asks softly.

“I have to go. I need to leave.”

“Okay, let me pack my bag too. I’ll come with you.”

My breathing is coming out in an uneven pattern, my eyes begin to sting. “You can’t. You have to stay here. You need this job. And you need to make sure they pass the cabin inspection and check Sadia’s bunk for spiders. Xander doesn’t do it properly. I haven’t changed; I’ll just disappoint you, Russ. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

He crosses his legs and picks me up, nestling me in his lap. Everything about feeling him touching me makes me feel better. Kissing each my eyelids, then each of my cheeks, he kisses both of my ears and my breathing begins to fall into a rhythm with his.

“You could never disappoint me, Aurora, and you don’t need to be anybody but yourself. I know you’re hurting and I want to make it better, but if you want me to stay and check for spiders, you need to stay too because if you go, I go. We all need you and we all want you here.”

“My dad is getting married,” I whisper, almost choking on the words, “and he only wants me there for the magazine exclusive, so we don’t look like we’re a family at war.”

“Fuck your dad.” His hands cup my face as he leans back to look right at me. “You don’t have to let him keep burning you, sweetheart.”

My bottom lip wobbles. “I just want to be wanted.”

“You are. Let’s both stay. Let me show you how wanted you are.”

“I like who I am when I’m with you, but what if you leave too? Who am I going to be then?”

“Do you trust me?” he asks, still cupping my face gently.

Even with the tears still running down my face, I nod. I do trust him. I’m also scared.

“I’m not going anywhere, but you don’t need me, Aurora. You’re strong and sweet and funny. You’re smart and affectionate and you’re all those things without me. You don’t need anyone but yourself, but you can have me anyway. I worry I’m going to fuck this up, too, but we have to trust ourselves as much as we trust each other.”

“I can’t fold my shorts like you can.”

“Exactly,” he says, resting his forehead against mine. “So don’t go. Don’t run away from the place that makes you feel at home. From the family you chose.”

Russ’s lips meet mine, soft and gentle, like I might break if he’s too rough with me. His fingers dance up my spine and, notch by notch, the tension eases out of my body. I wrap my arms around his neck, sinking into him, rolling my hips against where we’re joined.

“Please show me how much you want me,” I whisper. “I need to replace all the bad feelings. You make me feel good.”

If I wasn’t so distracted by my crumbling life, I’d have more time to be impressed by how easily Russ stands from the floor with me around him. My suitcase crashes against the floor as he knocks it off the bed, lowering me carefully onto the mattress, climbing on top of me.

The weight of his body on mine does more to kill the anxiety rolling through me like waves than anything else. He tugs off his t-shirt and waits while I run my hands down his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath my palms. Mine comes off next, followed by my shorts and his. There are layers of fabric between us, but the pressure of him between my legs makes goosebumps spread down my body.

He kisses my forehead. “I want everything about you, Aurora.” My nose is next. “I want your smiles.” Then my jaw. “Your laughs.” My collarbone. “I want the way you ramble when you’re nervous.” The top of my breast. “I want your big reactions and your little ones.” The center of my stomach. “I want to watch you get frustrated at origami but carry on anyway because it makes you so happy.” My naval. “I want to protect you from possums and sharks and, sometimes, when you need it, yourself.” Finally, my hipbone. “And I want to want you because you’re worth it, sweetheart. And you make me feel good too.”

He sits up when I do, letting me smash my mouth into his, pouring as much into it as I can. His hands grip my neck, keeping me in place.

And that’s when Jenna shouts my name from outside of my cabin.

And the door begins to open before I can shout wait.