Campfire Secrets

by Kathi Daley

  “I have something for Carrie,” I said once we were all gathered around the fire with our glasses of wine.

  “For me?” Carrie said, truly surprised. “Whatever for? It’s not my birthday.”

  “I know.” I handed her a wrapped package. “But you did go to a whole lot of trouble to bring us all together, and you are the one who keeps us connected even when we aren’t together. I love you. I wanted to do something for you.”

  Carrie slowly opened the package and gasped. “Oh my. Would you look at this!”

  “A photo album?” Nora asked.

  “Not just a photo album,” I said. “This is the album of us: The Summer Six. After I got here, I found old photos that Kayla had left behind in the secret compartment of her desk as well as old journals I’d left behind in the secret compartment of mine. I had copies made of some of the best photos, and I transferred passages from my journals to scrapbook paper to fill things out. I wasn’t sure at first if it would all come together, but I have to say that I think it turned out rather nice.”

  “It’s perfect,” Carrie said, tears streaming down her face.

  I leaned over and hugged her. She hugged me back, and then looked through the book, stopping to comment on several of the photos while we all looked over her shoulders. The photos started early and spanned more than a decade, right up to that last summer together when we were eighteen. I felt like between Kayla’s photos and my journal entries, it really was the story of us.

  “Oh, gosh. Look at us here,” Carrie pointed to a photo of the six of us when we were around seven or eight. “I forgot Quinn’s hair was so long when we were young.” She looked up and smiled at Quinn. “I love the short hair you sport now, but I do miss those pigtails.”

  “Too hard to keep long pigtails clean when I’m wading through muck up to my waist,” she pointed out. “Besides, if I had hair that long now, I’d probably get it tangled up in my chute when I jump. Short is the only way to go when you live the lifestyle I do.”

  Carrie’s expression became serious. “I know what you do is dangerous, but I guess I never stopped to consider how dangerous.”

  Quinn smiled at her, gently putting a hand on her shoulder. “No need to worry. I’m careful, and I know what I’m doing. Besides, not all my stories require jumping into enemy territory. At least half the stories I do are a lot more boring and tedious than they are dangerous.”

  I wasn’t sure that was true since Quinn seemed to love covering wars and uprisings, but I supposed she did cover her share of white-collar and political stuff as well.

  “Oh, look here’s one with Matt before we even started dating,” Nora said, pointing to a photo on the page. “I guess he was around fifteen. I forgot what a good-looking guy he was even back then. No wonder I fell hard the first time I saw him at the harvest fair.”

  “I remember that,” Carrie said. “We were in line for the tilt-o-whirl, and he tried to cut in line. You told him in no uncertain terms that cutting wasn’t allowed, at which point he smiled and winked at you and you let him into the line in front of you. I think that was the beginning of what was to come, even though you didn’t actually start dating until the following summer.”

  “I was only up for the weekend when we saw him at the festival,” Nora reminded Carrie. “I didn’t even know his name at that point, or if he was local or a visitor. I wasn’t sure I’d see that cute boy with the big brown eyes ever again until my family came back for the summer, and he was here, waiting for me just where I’d left him.” She paused as if remembering a memory she chose not to share. “You know, Matt told me that his family almost went to Europe that summer. I shudder to think about how different my life would be if they hadn’t come to the island, and Matt and I hadn’t gotten together.”

  “But Matt was your fated love, and fate always wins out,” Carrie said with a tone of regret in her voice. She paused for a moment. “I thought Carl was my fated love, but I was wrong. Since we’ve split up, I’ve actually wondered if I hadn’t met and discarded my real soulmate while chasing around after a man who was never going to be worthy of my love.”

  “If you have actually met your soulmate, yet missed your chance, it seems to me that your paths will cross again,” I said.

  She smiled. “I hope so.”

  Carrie turned the page to a photo of the six of us sitting on a blanket at the beach when we were probably around fifteen or sixteen. Ryder and his buddy at the time, Dillon, were hanging out in the background with those dang Super Soakers they used to torture us with. They looked so young, and somehow looking at ten-year-old Ryder, in contrast to fifteen-year-old me, abruptly brought home the difference in our ages.

  “Ryder doesn’t still have that dang water gun, does he?” Quinn teased. “He was such a pest, always following us around, playing tricks on us, and spying on us even after we’d told him to leave us the heck alone.”

  “Ryder has moved past the pesky brother phase,” Carrie spoke up. “I’d never have survived my divorce without him.”

  “I know,” Quinn admitted. “I was just teasing. Seeing these photos just brought back memories of that little kid that served as a thorn in our sides for years, but he’s turned out to be someone really special.” She peeked over Carrie’s shoulder. “I guess we didn’t really hang out with Sammy, so there probably aren’t any photos of him in this book.”

  “Actually, there is one,” I said. I looked at Carrie, “Turn to the back, maybe three pages from the end.

  The page had a photo of Sam, who’d been seventeen when I was fourteen, and Quinn was fifteen. He was sitting on his Harley, wearing the same leather jacket he still owned.

  “My, my, my,” Quinn said. “How did I not remember what a babe he was?”

  “You thought he was a pest,” I reminded her. “Maybe he was a pest, in a different way than Ryder was a pest, but he had a thing for you even back then, and he seemed to show up wherever we were a lot more often than might normally be explained by chance.”

  She reached over Carrie’s shoulder and ran a finger over his face. “Guess I forgot about that.” She took a deep breath, her face softening. “He’s turned out to be exactly the sort of guy I’d be looking for if, in fact, I was looking for a guy.”

  “I know you travel a lot with your job, but you know you are always welcome here,” Carrie reminded her. “I’m here, Kelly is going to stay, at least for the time being, and most importantly, if you spend more time on the island, maybe you can explore this thing with Sam and see where, if anywhere, it might end up.”

  She nodded. “I am getting to the point in my life where the urge to settle down is settling in, so maybe.” She glanced at the photo again. “I know I used to complain about Sammy hanging around all the time when we lived here as kids, but if I’m perfectly honest, I had a pretty big crush on him even back then. I would never have admitted it even to myself, but I remember this feeling of gladness whenever he’d show up. Of course, I wasn’t going to let any guy get in the way of the plans I had for my life — but now — maybe.”

  I’d missed Quinn a lot over the years. I hoped she would continue to come around. Maybe one day, she’d even want to stay.

  Carrie turned back toward the middle of the book where she’d left off. My eyes settled on an image of Kayla and me. I seemed to remember that Carrie had snapped it. We were probably around twelve. We both wore long braids, and our tanned skin was free of makeup, even the mascara we’d both begun to wear when we were around thirteen. I felt my throat tighten as I struggled with my emotions. She should be here. Somehow, it seemed all wrong that she wasn’t. She would have loved this so much, spending time with friends who’d helped to mold us into the people we were today.

  Quinn, who stood next to me as we looked over Carrie’s shoulders, reached out and took my hand in hers. She didn’t say anything as she wound her fingers through mine, but I knew that she’d been focused on the same photo I was. After Kayla died, I’d felt so alone in my grief, but here on the i
sland with people who loved her almost as much as me, I felt less alone than I’d felt for a very long time.

  The four of us continued to sit by the campfire, sharing memories late into the night. We shared things that night that we’d never shared with the others in the past. I supposed it was the wine loosening our tongues, or the photos and the vivid recollections of a life that seemed so far in the past yet somehow still within our grasps. We talked about both Peggy and Kayla, and what they’d meant to each of us. We’d laughed, we’d cried, we allowed ourselves to grieve, and then to find joy in the memories that were left when our grief was spent. By the time the fire finally burnt down to ash, the bond of friendship the four of us had forged as children had been renewed. I knew, in my heart, that while I’d always grieve the fact that I wouldn’t fade into the sunset with Kayla as planned, I did have people in my life who’d be with me until the sun met the sea for the final time.

  Epilogue

  Ryder moved up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Penny for your thoughts,” he whispered into my ear before trailing a row of kisses down my neck.

  I continued to stare out the window of the boathouse at the sunny morning and gently rolling sea. “I was thinking about how much I am both looking forward to and dreading today before you distracted me with whatever it is you’re doing to my neck.”

  He stopped what he was doing and turned me so that we were facing one another. “I’m sorry about the distraction. Do you want to talk about it?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure what there is to say. On one hand, I’m so excited that Quinn, Nora, and Matt are all going to be here for Thanksgiving this year, that I can barely contain my happiness but on the other hand…”

  “This is your first Thanksgiving without Kayla, and you’re missing her,” he finished for me.

  I nodded, tears gathering behind my lids as I stared into his blue eyes. “She was in the hospital last year. I barely remember the holidays. I think I forced them out of my consciousness since thinking about a life of Thanksgivings and Christmases without Kayla was overwhelming.” I took a breath and then continued. “I know she wouldn’t want me to be sad. And I don’t want to be sad. And in a way, I’m not. I have you and Carrie, and Quinn and Sam, and Nora and Matt. I have people I love, who love me in return. The thought of sharing the next month with you and establishing our own holiday rituals that I hope we will repeat for years to come brings me more joy than I can even describe. I guess I just felt the need to take a moment and remember.”

  “I get that,” Ryder pulled me toward his chest, wrapping his arms around me. “Do you want to be left alone?”

  I shook my head. “Not really. It’s hours until we need to pick Quinn up at the ferry terminal, and Matt and Nora meet us at Carrie’s place. Let’s take a walk and then have some breakfast. Carrie said she isn’t planning to serve Thanksgiving dinner until around five.”

  Ryder put some distance between our bodies, leaned in to kiss me gently on the lips, and then headed toward the chair where he’d draped the sweatshirt he’d worn last night. I pulled mine on as well. It was warm for November, but there was a chill in the air that hinted that winter was just around the corner.

  “So why isn’t Sam picking Quinn up?” Ryder asked as we left the boathouse and walked out onto the sandy beach. “He’s been yammering on and on for days about how happy he is that she’s going to be here until after New Year’s.”

  “Buford took the long weekend off to be with family, so Sam is covering. He’s working a basic eight-hour day and then is going to be on call the rest of the time, so he’ll just meet us at Carrie’s.”

  “You do realize you always refer to the condo as Carrie’s place even though you’re both living there, don’t you?”

  “For now,” I answered.

  “Have you given more thought to moving in with me?” he asked.

  “Actually, I have,” I answered. I spent more nights at the boathouse than I did at the condo, so it made sense to move in with Ryder. “Jessica is going to be here next week, and Quinn is staying with Sam, so I want to give Carrie alone time with her daughter. I packed a bunch of my stuff to take to the boathouse today, so it looks like you’re stuck with me for at least the next couple of weeks. I’ll admit that I’ve been toying with the idea of moving to your place permanently, although I do enjoy having the occasional quiet evening with Carrie when it works out that I’m home on the same night that Glen isn’t visiting, which admittedly is occurring less and less often.”

  “What’s up with that anyway?” Ryder asked. “Are Carrie and Glen a couple now?”

  I paused. “She hasn’t labeled what they have as a romance, so I’m not going to go there, but he comes over at least four or five nights a week to have dinner and watch TV. Glen is a nice guy, who seems to like to do the same things Carrie likes to do. I think they fit. I’m not sure that Carrie is ready to jump into another relationship quite yet, but I’d be surprised if that isn’t where they’re heading.”

  “I like Glen,” Ryder said, putting an arm around my shoulder as Baja took off after a colony of seagulls. “I’ve always liked him. Personally, I think he’d be good for Carrie.”

  “Me too,” I agreed. “I really hope it works out for them.”

  I paused and thought about a dream that I’d had not all that long ago. It had been a cold and blustery day, but Ryder and I, and Carrie and Glen, and Quinn and Sam, and Nora and Matt were all on the beach, building a snowman out of sand. It doesn’t snow on Shipwreck Island, but that doesn’t mean we don’t go all out for the holidays with tree lightings and festivals, and all the decorations and trimmings. One of the events held here on the island is a Christmas themed sandcastle contest. I’d been thinking about entering this year, which I supposed is where the fuel for the dream came from.

  “I joined the committee overseeing the Christmas on the Island event,” I informed him. “I understand you are likewise on the committee, but I didn’t see you at the meeting today.”

  “I was actually meeting with the tree lighting committee today. I assume you were at the meeting for the festival in mid-December.”

  I nodded. “I wasn’t sure I wanted to join the group when Carrie first mentioned it to me. I think she’s been trying to help me feel settled, and in her own way, she seems to think that being part of the committee will help with that. I actually considered bowing out, but she really wanted me to do it, so I went.”

  “And?” he asked, caressing my palm with his finger as we walked hand in hand.

  “And I had a blast. I only spent Christmas on the island a couple of times when I was a kid. We came every summer, but rarely between summers. But I remember the Christmas themed sandcastle competition and the parade down Main Street. I remember the festival and carolers. I remember the town feeling like something out of a movie. I remember being enchanted. To be honest, I’m looking forward to the holidays this year more than I’ve looked forward to them in a very long time.”

  “Me too.” He grinned. “I may even allow you to help me with decorating the tree this year.”

  I laughed. “Is that supposed to be some sort of privilege?”

  “Actually, it is. Baja and I have a tradition of decorating our tree — just the two of us. We never allow anyone to help. But this year, I think we might be willing to make an exception. For you, that is. No one else. Just you.”

  “I’m honored. And don’t worry, I totally rock at tree decorating. I won’t let the two of you down. I don’t really have any decorations to contribute, but I’m sure you have that covered.”

  “We do,” he confirmed.

  I laid my head on his shoulder as we continued to stroll hand in hand. I closed my eyes, trusting him to lead the way as I focused on the water washing across my feet and the salty air as it caressed my cheek.

  I’d come to Shipwreck Island as a broken woman, hoping to find a way to cope with a loss so great that it threatened to destroy me.

  I’d come to S
hipwreck Island in the hope of finding a way to deal with my anger and grief.

  I’d come to Shipwreck Island, hoping to find solace in my darkest hour.

  But somewhere along the way, between the pain and the healing, I’d found a way to go on living. I’d found hope, I’d found meaning, I’d found new relationships to fill the void, and most of all, I’d found a love so pure, I knew it would sustain me the rest of my days.

  If you missed it be sure to read

  Books 1 and 2 in the Island Reunion

  Three Part Story

  Summerhouse Reunion

  https://amzn.to/30ikadT https://amzn.to/2ULHU79

  USA Today best-selling author Kathi Daley lives in beautiful Lake Tahoe with her husband Ken. When she isn’t writing, she likes spending time hiking the miles of desolate trails surrounding her home. She has authored more than a hundred books in twelve series. Find out more about her books at www.kathidaley.com

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