Page 107 of Lady and the Camp
The woman scrunched her nose in confusion. “Like at a campground?”
“A children’s camp,” I said. “He was my boss.”
I could tell what she was thinking. Who in their right mind invited their grumpy former boss on a trip with the only directive to head east and not hurry?
“It’sveryromantic.” Marcy swooped in carrying a tray of blissful distraction. “Here. Have a watermelon popsicle.” She handed the woman—her mom’s former coworker—a red frozen treat. Marcy glanced at me. I shot back a look. She returned her attention to the elder party guest. “Hey, Helen. Let me introduce you to our neighbor. She just came back from Vegas and has the best stories.”
Marcy escorted Helen across her parents’ backyard where multiple generations of the Russo family and their friends gathered to talk, eat, and celebrate the end of summer.
A deep voice spoke low in my ear. “Does Helen think we don’t have good stories? We went to Vegas.”
I twined my fingers through Lucas’ big, warm hand. “Wedrovethrough Vegas. We only stopped for selfies at the Welcome to Las Vegas sign. And of course, the ramen.”
“Best bowl of ramen I’ve ever had.” He landed a gentle kiss at my forehead as if to seal the memories running through our minds.
We’d discovered the restaurant on a travel app and declared it our first off-the-beaten path side quest. Our desire for delicious noodles took us well off the Vegas strip, to an area of the city seen more by residents than tourists. The food had been fantastic, but the company even better.
Vegas and ramen had been our first real stop, other than for gas, after leaving California. Our first sit-down meal together outside of the confines of camp. Other than the literally compact space of my car, we were anything but confined. Our adventure existed in the space between where we’d been and where we were headed.
We’d made our travel plans over hot noodles and mind-melding broth. With no job for me get back to, and Lucas having arranged time off from camp, we’d plotted our course and dreamed big.
The mountains of Utah and Colorado big. A longer route back through Kansas, to St. Louis, through Indiana. So many states I’d never visited before, and I got to experience it all with Lucas.
Our trip had been about discovering. New places. Ourselves.
We made our way through the backyard toward the food table, sidestepping children sneak-attacking each other with squirt guns. Lucas scowled. I caught where his gaze landed. Helen, gasping and laughing as another woman spoke while gesturing wildly with her hands.
He shook his head. “Vegas stories.Wehiked the Rocky Mountains.”
I redirected his attention with a gentle touch at his beard. His warm brown eyes settled on mine. “Who cares if Helen thinks our relationship origin story is weird. It’s our relationship origin story. I can’t imagine anyone else I’d rather have been stuck in a car with after being unfairly hired for a job I had no skills in.”
He laughed softly. “The joke’s on me. Turns out you’re the one with skills. I’m just the handsome face of this partnership.” He stroked a hand against his trimmed and expertly groomed facial hair.
“Hey, you two.” Jillian approached with her boyfriend Adam attached at the hand. “Did you see Patrick yet? I’m dying to see how he acts around Marcy.”
Adam, a lean runner type who owned a home renovation contracting company, kept his gaze on Jillian as he spoke. “How has he been acting?”
Lucas snorted. “Like a fifth grader with a crush.”
“Who won’t admit he has a crush,” Jillian finished.
I scoped the area, but only saw Russos and shrieking children. “I have to admit, it’s kind of amusing seeing Patrick get flustered.”
Spending time with Lucas the remainder of the summer meant plenty of time spent with his family and friends, all made more convenient while I stayed at Marcy’s apartment. Patrick was truly an extension of the Russo family and showed up at all of their family functions. And sometimes at Marcy’s doorstep for no apparent reason at all.
Marcy appeared again. “Hey, fam! Jillian, you missed the popsicles. The kids devoured them. But we’ve got adult beverages and seven kinds of pie coming out in a sec.” She took out her phone, muttered a few things as she tapped the keys, then slid it into her back pocket. She scanned the backyard.
I laid a hand at Marcy’s arm. “The party is great. Are you able to take a break and enjoy yourself?”
She blinked. “Sure. Enjoy myself. I can do that.”
“Marcy!” A woman’s voice boomed from beneath the pop-up canopy tent. Three long folding tables were lined up beneath the tent offering seating and trays of food. “ARE MY PIES OUT, MARCY? UNCLE TITO WANTS THE RHUBARB.”
Marcy’s tight smile surfaced. “Duty calls.” She zipped away.
Jillian caught my eye. “She needs us.”
I nodded. “Let’s go help her.”
