There’s no way to avoid him once lunch rolls around, though. I’m in the kitchen with some of the campers, making egg salad sandwiches. By the time I realize that he’s strolled in through the door, it’s too late to run anywhere, and besides, I’d have to somehow make it past him to get to the exit.

Luckily, though, the campers clamor around him, they want to know if he’ll do archery with them later, a few of them want to go kayaking. Just the sight of him makes me simultaneously want to run away and go over and jump on him. At one point, he looks right at me, and I look away, quickly, but not before he gives me a wink, which, luckily, no one else picks up on. My heart feels like it’s about to beat out of my chest. I spoon out more egg salad onto the slices of bread.

“How’s the sandwich-making coming along?” he asks. He walks over, his arm brushing mine.

“Fine,” I reply.

He lowers his voice. “I missed seeing you this morning.”

“I . . . I was busy.”

“Meet me at the beach trail later tonight.”

His voice is so quiet I can barely hear what he says. I can see a few of the campers watching, straining to hear what we’re saying.

“Okay,” I say finally, my own voice barely a whisper. “I will.”

He didn’t give me a specific time, so I wait until it’s dark, and even then, I consider not going. Before I leave, I stand in the bathroom and look in the mirror.

“There is seriously something wrong with you,” I tell my reflection. Wouldn’t any other normal person be ecstatic that this was happening? A normal person wouldn’t try to avoid the person she’d just slept with if she actually liked him in return.

Finally, I make myself go outside and head toward the trail. He’s there, as I approach, and I wonder how long he’s been waiting. He comes over and touches my shoulder.

“Hi there,” he says. “I was just starting to think that you stood me up.” He takes my hand. “Come on; let’s go for a walk.”

We basically take the same walk we took the other night, and I can feel myself getting tense. He must, too, because he stops and looks at me.

“You okay?”

“Yes.”

We walk down to the water and I kick my flip-flops off and let the waves roll over my feet.

“I missed seeing you today,” he says. “I had a pretty great time last night.”

I look out at the water but don’t say anything.

“Did you?” he asks.

“Yes.” I take a deep breath. “Of course I did. I’m sorry; I don’t know what my problem is. It’s been a long time since . . . since I’ve been in a situation like this, I guess. I don’t really know what I’m doing, if you hadn’t figured that out.”

He smiles. “I think I’d most definitely have to disagree with that last statement, sweetheart. But, I feel a little weird about things too. It happens.”

“Has it ever happened to you?”

“Well . . . yeah. This is different for me, too.”

“How so?”

“I don’t need to get into all the down and dirty details, but . . . let’s just say I’ve had my fair share of romantic liaisons. But never with someone I really, truly liked, if you can believe that. Never had a girlfriend before. Never in a long-term relationship or anything like that.”

“I was with Sean, and it was awful.”

“I always assumed relationships would be awful, which was why I avoided them at all costs.”

“Not that Sean was the great love of my life or anything, but I’d like to avoid any more heartache, if possible. It just seems easier not to be involved, you know?”

He doesn’t say anything for a minute. The waves continue to wash over my feet, pulling the sand out from under them each time they roll back.

“‘It is better for the heart to break, than not to break,’” he says. “That’s from a Mary Oliver poem. And though I’ve never been in a relationship before, I happen to agree wholeheartedly with that quote.”

I look at him in surprise. “You read Mary Oliver? She was one of my dad’s favorite poets.”

“I spent a few summers on Cape Cod. She’s a great poet.”

He steps in front of me and gives me a hug. His mouth is right next to my ear. “We don’t have to talk about this right now,” he whispers. “I just wanted you to know that you don’t have to be afraid. I know it’s probably a little scary, but it’s different for me, too. And you don’t have to be scared, okay?”

He kisses my forehead and I let myself relax into his arms, and in that moment, he’s right, it doesn’t feel like there is anything to be afraid of at all.

Chapter 21: Griffin

There is one week of camp left. I’m not exactly sure when the idea occurs to me, maybe it was even a dream I had. Woke up with the idea. But it makes sense: Bring Jill home to New York. Not for good, of course, just for a visit, some fun times, and maybe Dad will see that not only have I decided I want to be a contributing member of society and no longer live off his dime, but I’ve found a girl that I really want to be with. He’d appreciate something like that, and Jill is just the kind of girl you’d want to bring home to the family.

I let the idea percolate for a few days. We could go stay with Mom in the Hamptons, wander around the city, do all the sorts of things I imagine you’d do if you were in a relationship. Though it’s hard to say if Jill and I actually are in a relationship, though I’d certainly like us to be, and surprisingly, I find that I am actually nervous to talk to her about it.

I stand in front of the bathroom mirror and look at my reflection, knowing that to everyone else in the world I might look exactly the same, but I am not. I take a deep breath, watch my shoulders rise up toward my ears, then exhale, down they go. I am not the same person. I leave the lodge bathroom and go over to the phone hanging on the wall by the kitchen entrance. I dial Dad’s number.

“Hi, Dad,” I say when he picks up.

“Griffin,” he says. His tone is hard to read. “Are you still out in California?”

“Yes. Having a good time, actually.”

“What can I do for you?”

“I know you’re busy with golf and the country club and everything, but I’m thinking of coming through town soon. I’m going to bring my girlfriend with me.”

“Your girlfriend,” he says flatly.

“Yes. Try to hide your surprise.”

“I’m not surprised; I’m just trying to figure out why you felt the need to call and inform me of these trivial details.”

“Well, I was thinking you might want to see me, and maybe meet her, and it’d be nice if we could all get together for dinner. Or lunch. Or whatever.”

He sighs, as though I just asked if he’d be willing to donate a kidney to charity or something.

“I’m not really so sure I need to meet your flavor of the week, Griffin. This all seems a little unnecessary.”

“She’s not a flavor of the week, Dad. It’s actually kind of . . . kind of serious.” I get a warm feeling in my chest as I say the words.

“And what? You feel you need my blessing? That’s never mattered to you before.”

“I just think it’d be nice if we could try to, you know, salvage our relationship. We didn’t used to hate each other, you know.”

“For Christ’s sake, Griffin, I don’t hate you. But you’ve made it very clear your priorities in life, and I’ve allowed you to live as you want. I’m not clear as to why you suddenly feel the need to call me and start talking about our relationship. I’m your father; not your therapist. You’re an adult. I think I’ve shown my respect for you by allowing you the freedom to do as you please. Not everyone is so lucky.”

“You’re right,” I say. “Cam is coming out here to see me, though. That’s interesting, isn’t it?”

He’s quiet for a minute. “Your brother is also free to live his life as he chooses. And while he has, without a doubt, made far better choices than you, he is still allowed to do what he wants. And if he wants to fly out to California to see you, then so be it. Good for him.”

“It’s mainly for business,” I say.

“I know. And if I’m to be frank with you, I honestly have no interest in meeting your girlfriend. Zero. I’m a busy man, Griffin, and this just isn’t something I’ll be able to fit into my schedule.”

“Well, we’re coming to New York. We’ll be by the house. Our paths might cross.”

“They might,” he says, sounding resigned. “Or they might not. Either way is fine with me.”

“Things are different. I’ve been doing some things differently, Dad. I thought you might like to hear about it.”

“Like I said: If I see you, I do. At this point in your life, Griffin, I doubt any changes that you’ve made are really going to be that surprising to me.”

It would be easy enough to get mad, but instead I just smile and say goodbye. He’ll just have to wait and see in person.

Chapter 22: Jill

On Sunday, Mom tells me that Uncle Nate is going to Lanai for a few weeks and has a layover in San Francisco. He wants to take us out to lunch.

“Do you think you’ll be able to get away from the ranch for a little while that day? I know it’s right in the middle of the week,” Mom says. “I think it’d be good if you could make it. He says he has something he wants to tell us.”

“Hmm, I wonder what that could be,” I say, though I’m sure I already know. And I can’t help but wonder if he starts talking his conspiracy theories again, if I might just say something, even though I still don’t have anything concrete to go off of.

When I get back to the ranch, I talk to Lorrie and get the time off, even though it’s a Thursday and it’ll be right in the middle of the day.

“Would Griffin like to go, too?” Lorrie asks me with what may or may not be a coy smile.

It’s hard not to smile back, though in response I only say, “I don’t know why he would.”

“I’m sure your mom would like to meet him. Your uncle, too. We could spare the two of you for a few hours.”

Though I doubt the idea would’ve occurred to me on my own, once Lorrie brought it up, it seemed perfect. It would be good for Mom, and I have a feeling that Uncle Nate will actually really like Griffin.

I find Griffin and a few campers sitting outside, cleaning the fishing gear. His back is to me as I approach, and he’s telling them all a story about a fishing trip he went on in Alaska. I pause for a moment and watch the faces of the kids that I can see; even though he’s been here for a few weeks now, the campers are every bit as enamored with him as they first were.

“You had to club the fish?” one of them asks.

“Don’t let Jill hear about it!” another one replies.

“Don’t let me hear what?” I say.

Griffin turns and sees me, a big smile breaking out on his face. “Hey, there, sweetheart,” he says.

I see a few of the campers shoot worried looks at each other, and then at Griffin, and I wonder if that’s really how they see me, as someone who’s going to come roaring in here and ruin their good time because they happen to be talking about clubbing fish.

“Looks like you guys are having fun over here,” I say, sitting down. I look at Griffin. “I won’t stay long, but I was wondering if you’d like to get lunch on Thursday in the city.”

“Stay as long as you’d like,” he says. “And yes, I would love to go with you to the city.”

I’m aware of the looks the kids are giving us—confused but curious. It would probably do them some good to see me being nice to Griffin; perhaps they wouldn’t get that look on their faces next time I walked up.

“My uncle is going to be in town,” I tell them. “He travels a lot but he likes to come by and visit when he can.”

Griffin smiles. “Ah, the traveling uncle. Sounds like a good guy. Count me in.”

I return his smile, and try to ignore the surprised looks on all the campers’ faces.

*

But at breakfast on Thursday morning, it’s clear that Griffin is in no shape to be doing much of anything, never mind take a trip up to the city. He’s pale, his eyes bright, and when I brush my fingertips across his forehead, he’s very hot.

“You don’t look like you’re doing so well,” I say. “Why don’t you go lie down.”

He shivers a little, even though he’s wearing a sweatshirt with the hood pulled up and it’s pretty warm in the lodge. “I don’t know what is wrong with me,” he says. “I felt a little off last night but figured I’d just be able to sleep it off. I never get sick.”