Page 68 of Seven Summer Weekends

“Just thinking ’bout what?” she pushed.

“Just thinking how I amnotsitting here coming up with excuses for why I can’t stay over.”

“That’s nice. I usually would want to run by now too.”

“Well, it is your house.”

“I’m nowhere near thinking of this place as my house. I’m still in shock about the whole thing. My life changed in a minute.”

“Do you miss your job?”

“I’m not sure. You know, I never had a break like this before. I started working at the agency right after college. Well, not exactly right after. I got engaged my senior year and…”

“Wait—your senior year?”

“Yes, kind of crazy, right? We started dating sophomore year and were inseparable throughout college. My parents were so happy, a nice Jewish boy from a nice midwestern family.”

“What happened?”

“I panicked, broke off the engagement after the invites were already sent, and fled to New York. An old camp friend introduced me to Kizzy, who was interning with a headhunter while still at NYU. I was her first placement.”

“What camp?” he asked, as if that were the point of the story.

“Mataponi in Maine, you?”

“Lokanda—upstate New York.”

“Wasn’t it the best?” she gushed.

“Yes, it was, heartbreaker.”

“Don’t even joke about that. It was bad, really bad. Not only did I break my fiancé’s heart, but my mother—she took to her bed for weeks.”

“A southern lady like me?” Ben joked.

“Midwestern born and bred. But she should have been southern. Beverly is a big drama queen.”

She changed the subject again—to something sweeter.

“S’mores?” she said. Now that she had determined he was a camp person, she was even more excited to break out the ingredients.

While gobbling up their sandwiches of chocolate, marshmallows, and childhood memories smashed between graham crackers, they talked about a million different things. Ben shared a couple of funny camp stories and similar antics from his early days as a sportswriter covering minor league baseball. He spoke about boyhood days on the Jersey Shore and about meeting Julia, and their love story. Addison thought she already knew his perspective from the book, but she could see how much he had grown since then. His attitude now seemed to come less from anger and frustration and more from pure love.

She talked a lot about the Chicago suburb she’d grown up in, how she was both different and the same as her sister, and the stress of her broken engagement—which of course felt weird in comparison to what Ben had gone through.

“That sounds freaking awful,” he said. “I think I would have gone through with it just to avoid the conflict.”

“Good to know,” Addison responded. In truth, she loved his empathetic, validating responses.

When the fire died, they moved into the bedroom and crawled under the covers, where Addison snuggled into the crook of Ben’s arm to watchLove Is Blind.

Two episodes later, and they were both having a hard time staying awake. Sally was already out cold on the pile of old towels that Addison had yet to bag.

“Should I turn it off?” she whispered.

He nodded and pulled her in closer, his arms wrapped around her torso, her head resting on his chest.

“Love Is Blindis kind of stupid, no? Falling so quickly,” she mumbled.

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