Page 32 of Camp Help Falling

“Yes, I’ve spent the last few weeks volunteering with my parents’ youth foundation at a new summer camp program they’re running. It was…” How do I describe my experience at Camp Brower? There’s too much for a few simple words to encompass everything.

Cameron’s deep chuckle makes me shake my head and pick a word that doesn’t seem like enough, but is the closest I’ll be able to get. “Intoxicating.”

The mountain air.

The noisy quiet.

Sadie.

Her touch, her taste, her presence.

Suddenly, her absence feels like a knife to my chest.

“Ah, I understand that look.” Cameron’s voice drops to a soft, parental tone. I hadn’t realized I had been telegraphing every thought to my face. “I had that same look when I met my wife.”

“Sadie…”

Why am I bringing up Sadie? I’m here at this lunch to talk about architecture. Job opportunities. Job opportunities in architecture. Not my camp crush.

But Cameron always had a way of loosening my tongue better than any kind of alcohol.

So I tell him about Sadie and about Camp Brower. About this amazing woman I met and how she and the place she loves changed my life in just a few short weeks. I tell him about my parents’ vision for the camp and its expansion. And when I’m done, leaving him nodding along with a broad smile on his face, my heart is soaring. The ache from the last few days since I left is gone, replaced with a knowing assurance.

Sadie is it for me. And even though I might have made a mess of things by leaving, I will fix things with her. Because I don’t want to spend my life knowing I could have had her, but chose to walk away. I will do everything in my power to make sure she knows how I feel about her. I will move across the country and beg her forgiveness. I will climb mountains at sunrise and sing ridiculous camp songs.

Because Sadie is my everything. And I wouldn’t be the same without her in my life.

“Oliver, I have some good news for you. I spoke to my higher-ups about bringing you on when I heard Woolsey-Marshall let you go. You have a lot of talent and dedication, and with my endorsement, they’re willing to create a position and bring you onto the team.” Cameron leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “If you’re interested.”

I sit up straighter, an unrestrained smile spreading across my face. “Yes. Absolutely.”

Cameron’s smile is reassuring, and he presses his hands together as he leans farther across the table, pinning me with a gleam in his eye. “Now tell me about the renovations your parents want to do to this camp. That sounds like an exciting project.”

Chapter Nineteen

Sadie

I want to curl up in a ball and cry until I’m so dehydrated, I look like a mummy. Not only did I break up with the best boyfriend I’ve ever had in my life, said boyfriend up and left in the middle of the night, leaving me shorthanded at the worst possible time.

Paul and Linda pull me aside on Friday morning before breakfast and break the bad news. They look about as horrible as I feel, even though Linda bravely tries to put on a smile for me. They give me some excuse about Oliver finding a job and needing to go back home. And while I want to be angry with him, I understand more than anyone.

I’ve finally had a few companies reach out for interviews in the last two weeks, but I haven’t responded to any of them yet. I’ve been waiting until after the holiday…waiting until I’ve had a chance to talk to Paul and Linda about what Oliver was hinting about with the camp…waiting…

Just waiting.

In the spirit of honesty, I’ve been avoiding it. Dreading it. Because the minute I accept any of those offers to interview, I’m shutting the door on Camp Brower. Permanently.

Am I ready for that? Am I ready to let go of a decade of summers and friends and memories?

Not wanting to think about that, I call an emergency meeting with the adult staff during breakfast. Linda explains the situation with Oliver, saying it’s in the best interest of camp, but I have a hard time believing that. With grim faces, we hash out the shifts we have to make to the participant groups. Tyler offers to take over the lead counselor duties for the rest of the summer, since we both know it's too late in the season to be able to find someone to fill in for the last month. Paul volunteers to be the second driver for the excursions to allow me to stay at camp.

When everyone disperses, less enthusiastic than we should be for a Friday, my thoughts turn back to Oliver and the aching hole he’s left. I remember him mentioning that his parents have plans for Camp Brower, but he wasn’t forthcoming with any details. I understand not wanting to get anyone’s hopes up by sharing their plans before they’re ready, but the unknown gives me just as much anxiety as potentially leaving camp forever.

I trust the Evanses. They’ve taken to camp life like fish to water. This might be their first year at camp, but they’re no strangers to youth programs. They’ve been running the Evans Youth Foundation in Virginia for years. And while I know they won’t let me and Camp Brower down, I can’t help but feel like I’m failing them.

But camp goes on.

The problem is: it doesn’t feel like camp. Instead of enthusiastic and peppy, I feel robotic and melancholy. The same camp songs I’ve been singing for years don’t hold the same light they used to, and every smile I give feels brittle and fake. I put on a good show for the campers who show up, week after week, but when it comes down to it, I go to bed feeling emotionally drained and heavy-hearted.

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