Staying For You

by Van Wyk, Jennifer

  “He’s right. It’s really good. Hit the spot, too, Cami.” I look up at Rex who’s still holding Issy on his lap.

  “I’m glad y’all are enjoying it.”

  After we’ve finished eating, we all clear the table together and I help Owen put the leftover soup into a container and place it in his fridge. I figure it’s time for me to leave them to it so they can catch up a little bit before Owen’s family leaves but apparently Liv and Chloe have other plans.

  “Can we talk books? I’m dying over here. I just want to ask you all the things!” Liv says, bouncing on her seat.

  “Yes! Oh my gosh, I’ve been dying, too. Please tell us everything!”

  “You’re such freaks. She didn’t come here to talk about books.”

  “I beg to differ!” I protest. “I haven’t had people to talk about books with for ages and I’d love to sit and talk for a while but we might have to do it another time. Owen said you’re leaving tomorrow, right? I don’t want to interrupt your time with him before you leave.”

  “Pssh. Like I care,” Olivia teases.

  “I’m going to put Issy down for a nap,” Rex announces and Ethan agrees, saying he’s going to lie down with Brody.

  “That’s code for they’re going to take a nap as well,” Owen explains with a yawn from his place on the couch, arm extended over the back. He stands, stretches his arms above his head, and twists.

  I’m standing next to him and laugh when he yawns again. “Joining them, are you?”

  “I just might,” he says then bends over slightly to me and stops abruptly with his mouth about three inches above the top of my head.

  Everyone is looking at him, confused by his actions. I don’t blame them. I’m confused as well. Was he about to kiss me?

  “I’ll uh,” he stammers, pointing down the hallway, “be back there. Make yourselves at home,” he says, looking back. He runs into the wall, ping-ponging back before practically running away.

  We’re all staring after him and it’s Rex who speaks first. “Interesting,” he says in a way that it is, actually, very interesting to him to see Owen’s behavior.

  Me, on the other hand, am just confused.

  Chapter Eleven

  Owen

  “You fooling around with your guest?” Ethan asks, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the doorway to my bedroom.

  “Nope.”

  “So, you almost kissed her in front of everyone, she made you and your family a meal, and she babysat for your niece and nephew, why?”

  “I didn’t almost kiss her.”

  “But the other stuff happened.”

  I grit my teeth and narrow my eyes. He knows it did. “Yes.”

  “And then you decided you wanted to play house?”

  I sit on the edge of my bed. “Yeah – I mean, no.” I raise my head to look at him, annoyed. “You turd. Stop trying to play some weird voodoo on me. No, we are not playing house. She came up here to write or get over something that’s been bugging her or something… I don’t really know. She knew that you guys were coming back today for the kids. Obviously knew that we had gotten snow and offered to watch them while I cleared you a path to get here. I couldn’t have done that if she weren’t here, you know? Then she decided to make some soup. For you.”

  He raises his hands in surrender. “Hey. I wasn’t complaining. Just asking. When she and the girls were talking about movies and she was asking about our vacation, you couldn’t take your eyes off her.”

  “Because she was talking. What am I supposed to do? Turn my back to her and not listen?”

  “You were looking at her.”

  I wave him off, annoyed that he won’t just let it go. Do I think Cami’s beautiful? Yes. Do I think she’s adorable and sweet and kind and if she wasn’t here as a guest would I want to get to know her better? Yes. But that isn’t the case, so I’m letting it go. Just like I’d really like my family to do.

  Instead, the girls are out in the living room interrogating her about writing and asking her every question they can think of about her personal life that she’ll answer.

  Before Ethan interrupted, I was standing in my room eavesdropping without an ounce of shame. Well, maybe an ounce. But not much.

  “So. What are you writing?”

  “Nothing at the moment. I, uh, needed a little bit of a break. I just got a divorce and well, love and I aren’t good friends at the moment which means it’s even harder for me to focus and write about love.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “About the divorce or the writing? Because trust me, the divorce was a blessing.” She laughs and then continues. “Writing… I’ll get there. I’m actually finding a little bit of inspiration up here. I didn’t realize how attached I was to the world rather than myself.”

  “You sound like Owen,” my sister says.

  I feel the smile stretch across my lips at that. I’m influencing Cami and it sounds like in a good way.

  “You’re doing it again. Looking toward the door like you’re hoping she’ll appear. What is wrong with you?”

  “Nothing,” I grumble. “I’m fine. She’s a guest. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  “Really? That’s how you’re going to play it?”

  I roll my eyes and he scoffs. “Good come back. An eye roll.”

  “Shut up, man. You don’t have any idea…”

  “I do. You forget that you and I are not just family by marriage, but we’re friends, too. There’s only one other person I’ve ever seen you look at the way you look at Cami.”

  I huff. “Don’t romanticize the fact that she’s here and get any ideas. I have no desire to start up something with a woman who’s only here to lick her wounds from getting a divorce. She’s temporary. That’s it.”

  “And if she was here under other pretenses?”

  I think for three beats and then say, “It’s still a hard no. She’s the definition of insecure, a frail, timid thing who will run back to her safe place the second she gets spooked. I know her type. She’s playing a part right now but she screams high maintenance. Someone who needs coddled and praised constantly.”

  “That’s harsh.”

  “Not harsh. It’s the truth,” I lie. At least, I’m pretty sure it’s a lie. I don’t know her that well, but as they say, actions speak louder than words and if the last twenty-four hours are anything to go by, high maintenance and licking her wounds does not describe her. Not even a little bit. Which makes what I just said enormous bullshit but that’s what happens when you need to protect yourself.

  He raises an eyebrow at me. “Think your truth is a little skewed, brother.”

  “And you know so much after meeting her for an hour?”

  “And you know so much after knowing her for only a few more hours and then pushing her away?” he counters.

  I stand from my bed and push past him, ignoring his last absolutely true statement but then stop abruptly when I see Cami standing in the hallway, listening to our conversation.

  Her eyes are sad and her sob that she tries to cover up is loud and cuts right through my heart. She spins around and walks quickly, murmuring goodbyes and nice to meet yous as she leaves abruptly, a cry hiccupping from her throat just before the door closes behind her.

  We follow her out, me calling her name but she just lifts a hand to wave me off. Pretty sure she’d lift the middle finger at me, too, but she’s obviously a bigger person than I am.

  Chloe and Olivia are looking at her retreating back then turn around, shooting daggers at me, seeing that I’m the cause of her sudden escape.

  Ethan takes an exaggerated step away, pointing at me and whispering loudly, “It’s his fault.”

  “Shut up, Ethan,” I growl.

  Without thinking, I slide my feet into my boots and tie them as quickly as possible, slipping on my coat as I run out the door.

  I was a dick. And I’m never a dick. Ever. It’s not in my nature unless I’m pushed or I see one of my
loved ones getting hurt.

  I have no idea what possessed me to say those things. She’s not frail. She’s definitely not high maintenance or any of the mean words I used.

  She’s the opposite.

  But if I think too much about what she’s not, and what she is, I’ll picture her in a way that is only dangerous for me. I fell hard for Lily because she was sweet and kind, laughed easily and was one of the most giving people on the planet. Exactly like Cami a little voice in my head says but I shove it away.

  “Cami!” I shout but she doesn’t turn around.

  The door to her cabin slams shut behind her and I hear a muffled scream.

  Whoa.

  I pause, wondering if I should go in or leave her to it.

  I glance back at the lodge and see four grown ass people standing outside, arms crossed over their chests. I’m pretty sure steam is coming out of my sister’s ears. No doubt Ethan gave them all a detailed description of what I said and that Cami overheard me say it.

  “Cami?” I knock on the door. Silence greets me but the knob to the door twists when I turn it. I know it’s pretty pushy of me, quite possibly a little illegal for me just to go in, but I can’t stop myself.

  “Yes?” There’s a tremor to her voice, even though she’s clearly trying to sound strong.

  “It’s me. Can I come in?” I ask this as I’m pushing through the door, walking into the cabin.

  She turns around, glaring daggers at me.

  “Looks like it doesn’t matter what I want.” She sniffs, wipes her nose with a tissue, and sniffs again.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Hmm?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of what I said. I’m an asshole and…” I trail off, not wanting to get into it with her as I stand on the thin rug by the door, boots covered in snow and chill emanating from my body.

  “And?” She mimics the four stooges up at the lodge and crosses her arms over her chest. She’s still wearing her coat and boots – which she starts tapping the left toe of. I press my lips together because my gosh, I thought she was pretty before but pissed off Cami is downright cute. Adorable. Endearing. I’m almost glad I got to see it. Of course, I wish I wasn’t the cause of it, though.

  “And, that’s it. I’m an asshole. A dick. I shouldn’t have said any of what I said. Didn’t have any merit to it.”

  She looks out at the gray skies, the moisture that still seems to be hanging in the air is thick and heavy. There’s another chance of snow tomorrow that has my family already talking about maybe leaving in a few hours, getting a head start.

  She shakes her head, long, shiny, brown hair skimming across the center of her back with the movement. I have the craziest desire to run my fingers through it. Feel if it’s as soft as it looks. Bury my nose in it to find out if it smells like coconuts like I swore I smelled the first time she brushed by me. Cami slides her coat off her shoulders and gently places it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. Sits in it, removes her boots, and sets them right next to each other against the wall. Very proper. Organized. Neat and clean. I look around the cabin and realize that even though she’s only been here a short amount of time so it’s not as if she would have much time to create a mess, it still looks spotless. She obviously picks up after herself. “It’s fine. You’re right. I’m… temporary.” She chokes a little on the word temporary and I want to punch myself in the gut.

  “No. You’re not. Even as I said those things, I knew I was out of line. That it was all a lie. I’m the idiot here.”

  She smirks. “Now you’re taking the words out of my mouth?”

  I take a step closer. “I’m sorry.”

  “You said that,” she whispers.

  “But you didn’t acknowledge it or accept it,” I remind her, a teasing tone to my voice but I’m not really teasing at all.

  “Nope.” She grins widely and now she’s the one teasing me.

  I shake my head, look away from her briefly, then feel the corner of my mouth turn up.

  “I’m a shithead.”

  “Kind of, yeah.”

  My head whips in her direction when she agrees with me and she shrugs. Takes a deep breath and licks her lips. “Not today, but after your family leaves, I’ll tell you why I’m here. Truth is, I am licking my wounds from my divorce. But not because I miss him or wish that our marriage had worked out.”

  Hearing her use my words makes me feel like even more of an ass.

  “Whatever the reason you’re here, I’m glad.”

  We hold each other’s gaze for one, two… five seconds. I want to wrap her up in my arms and hug her. Keep apologizing until she knows without a doubt that I mean it.

  She breaks the stare first, looking beyond my shoulder toward the door. “Your sister’s here.”

  I turn around and guffaw. Olivia’s face is plastered to the window. She’s making a blowfish face then laughing at herself. My word. It’s like she’s still a bratty twelve-year-old who won’t leave me alone. She had finally grown up, then she had Brody and it was like her playful side took over once again. “I’m not even a little bit surprised. She’s a meddler.”

  “I like her.”

  “Yeah,” I agree half-heartedly. But in reality, I like her, too. She’s not just my sister, she’s my friend, too.

  I wave her inside and she immediately barrels through the door, shouldering in dramatically.

  “My brother is an ass, but he means well,” is the first thing out of her mouth.

  Chloe’s head pokes into the still open doorway. “Is the coast clear?”

  “What are you two nutjobs doing here?”

  “Making sure that you didn’t run her off.”

  “I’m good, promise,” Cami assures them.

  “Great! Then we can finish our conversation.” Liv pulls not one, but two bottles of wine out of her coat and waves them in the air. I don’t drink a lot of wine but do keep a few bottles on hand, which she clearly sniffed out. Chloe grabs me by the collar of my coat and pulls then pushes me toward the door.

  “Go on. Get. You’re no longer needed here.”

  “Isn’t that her call?”

  Cami gives me a cute little wave. “Bye, Owen.”

  Liv makes an explosion sound. “Dismissed!”

  I chuckle. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it. You three have fun.”

  “Oh, don’t worry! We will.” She shoos me out the door. Just before it closes, I hear her say to Cami, “Let me tell you the story about when Owen went through a phase where he only wore women’s underwear.”

  “Shit.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Cami

  We just finished the first bottle of wine and opened up the second. Luckily they’re screw top since I don’t have a bottle opener. As soon as Owen left, Olivia launched into a story about how she somehow convinced Owen that if he wore women’s panties, his penis would grow. This was when he was sixteen and she was fourteen. She was very proud of herself and could hardly get through the story without cracking up.

  In turn, we all laughed as well. Soon we were doubled over, stomachs aching, tears streaming down our faces. It was exactly what I needed.

  Owen couldn’t have known that his words hurt in a way that drudged up ugly memories. Scott always called me high maintenance. It was his way of deflecting the fact that he was actually the high maintenance one. Hell, he was the one who got regular manicures, pedicures, and facials. He would get shitty with me if I asked him to pick up groceries and asked specifically for chicken thighs instead of breasts, acting as if that’s a huge request. And apparently my desire to have a clean home meant that I was damn near impossible to live with. It’s not my fault that I feel more at peace when things are organized, like my life is more manageable.

  When I heard Owen suggest that I was the type of person who needed coddled and praised, that I was only playing a part and would soon show my truth… words that Scott used against me so many times, it hurt worse than ever hearing those insults come
out of Owen’s mouth. Maybe it’s because I knew that Scott was only saying those things to be a jerk. Maybe it’s because I’m afraid that there’s some truth to it.

  A part of me knows why it hurt, though. That’s the part that I’m trying to ignore and doing a very poor job at it.

  “I still can’t believe we’re sitting here having wine with Camilla Moore,” Chloe gushes, staring at me with her chin rested in her hand.

  I smirk at her over-the-top theatrics. “I know. You two are so lucky.”

  Chloe places a hand to her heart. “Right? Clearly the odds were in our favor.”

  Liv wipes a fake tear. “It just means so much to us…”

  We fall into another fit of giggles and Liv sits down after pouring us each another glass of wine.

  “In all seriousness, I am having so much fun getting to know you. I follow you on social media, but I had no idea you’d be this down to earth.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, sipping at the deep red wine. I’m sure my teeth will be stained after we’re done but the taste is worth it. A tiny bit sweet and fruity but still bold and rich. I don’t drink very often, and wine usually isn’t my go-to if I am having a drink even though recently I’ve been drinking more often, but it’s warming my belly and helping me to unwind.

  “I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I guess I figured you’d be more closed off, but you’re just like us.”

  “Watch what you say,” Chloe jokes, “that might not be a good thing.”

  I grin, cozying into my little corner of the couch. We brought the Adirondack chair off the deck into the cabin and Chloe is sitting in it, lounged back with her knees tucked to her chest and a blanket draped over her legs.

  Liv might have been the one who said she was having fun, but I can’t deny the fact that I haven’t enjoyed myself like this in years. Admittedly, I don’t have a lot of friends in real life aside from Gretchen and a few others. Family members, too. I’m more fortunate than a lot, I’m sure. Being an author can be terribly lonely. I work out of my home and rarely leave the house which means I don’t open myself up often to meeting new people.