Page 86 of The Kiss Keeper
“All that ends today,” her grandmother said with a little clap of her hands. “You’re going to race each other and end this hostility once and for all.”
“Race?” she and her cousin replied in unison.
“A tree-climbing race,” her grandfather said, clearly suppressing a grin.
Leslie scoffed. “Are you serious?”
“Oh, yes. Like it or not, you both care about Camp Woolwich, and we want you both involved in its future. A good healthy race will help quash this competition between the two of you. Plus, we also need someone to clean the boys’ latrine,” her grandmother answered.
“What?” the women again echoed in unison.
“Yes, I told the boys that one of you would take care of it today,” Hal added, not even trying to hide his amusement now.
“So, this is some kind of team building rah-rah thing, and the loser has to clean the boys’ latrine?” Leslie clarified.
“Everyone has to contribute their part at Camp Woolwich. You both know that,” her grandmother answered with a devious smile.
“That tree?” Leslie asked, gesturing with her chin.
Natalie stared up at the majestic oak, and a rush of confidence flooded her system. This was one of her favorite trees to climb as a girl, and after all that had gone down, she wasD,O,N,E, done with her elder cousin’sI’m-better-than-youattitude.
“Yep, this is the one,” her grandfather said, rocking back on his heels to stare up at the towering oak.
Natalie met Leslie’s gaze as if this were some Wild West duel. The women remained still for a beat then two before Natalie kicked off her cowgirl boots and sprinted toward the tree.
“Not so fast!” Leslie called, jerking off her sensible shoes, and running up behind her.
Natalie grabbed the first branch and pulled herself up. “I don’t know why you’ve always hated me, Leslie.”
“Oh, that’s simple,” Les bit back, working her way alongside. “Your everyone’s favorite and you’ve had it easy your entire life.”
Natalie sprang to the next leafy limb. “Had it easy? Where would you get that?”
“For starters,” Leslie replied, grasping the next branch over. “You’re grandma and grandpa’s favorite.”
Natalie batted at a cluster of gnats. “That’s not true.”
“And, you’re an artist like Grandma. Growing up, they always doted on you,” Leslie threw back, battling her own gnat battalion.
Natalie turned to tell off her cousin and was met with a mouthful of leaves. She spit and pushed the rogue limb out of the way. “I was the youngest! Didn’t you know I wanted to be with you and the big kids?”
Leslie broke a nail and cursed, then edged her way closer. “Well, I never got to think of just myself. I always had to make sure Lara was okay. Do you know how hard it was getting her ass through podiatry school? For Christ’s sake, when we were teenagers and our high school did a fundraiser to help raise funds for endangered whales, Lara asked me what I thought the whales would like to spend the money on?”
Breathing hard, their faces inches apart with bark in their hair and smudges of dirt on their cheeks, the women stilled and stared at one another. Another standoff, but Natalie cracked first, unable to hold back a full-belly laugh.
“You’re kidding,” she said, gasping for breath.
Leslie shook her head. Then something extraordinary happened. Her cousin’s resting bitch face—well, always bitch face—disappeared. A genuine smile replaced her usual scowl as tears of laughter streamed down her cheeks.
“Oh, that’s not even the half of it. Lara won’t drink Mountain Dew because she truly believes it’s made from dew harvested from a mountain top. And she thinks it’s yellow because animals have peed on it.” Les shook her head, still laughing. “She’s truly the dumbest smart person I’ve ever met.”
Natalie raised her finger. “Wait, get this! When we were kids and went into town to get licorice, she told me not to eat the black pieces because she was totally convinced that they’d fallen on the candy factory floor,” Natalie said as she and her cousin broke into another fit of laughter.
“I always wondered what the hell she was doing when I’d catch her washing licorice in the sink!” Leslie replied through a bout of giggles.
After a moment, they quieted, and Leslie scooched over to share the branch with her.
“I never hated you, Nat. Truthfully, I’ve always been jealous of you. You’re the pretty one. The artistic one. You were free to explore your passion and become an artist. You walk into a room, and everyone lights up.”
