Page 32 of The Fast Lane

“You’re in luck,” he said. “We’re all booked, but this one was out of commission until the AC got fixed and that happened today. It’s small but it will do, I think.”

Zip wasn’t kidding. The cabin was a tiny little one-room wooden structure, rough around the edges but charming. It had two twin-sized beds, a round table with two chairs, one dresser, a microwave, coffeemaker, and a TV we were warned got one channel “sometimes.” But it was neat and clean, had AC, and a small shower so I wasn’t complaining.

After Zip had gotten us settled in the cabin, he explained there was only one hot spot for the entire seventy-acre property. He lent us a golf cart, gave us directions to the community center a half a mile away, and the Wi-Fi password to use when we got there.

“Help yourself to whatever’s in the kitchen,” he said. “Should be something to make sandwiches with. It’s on the house.”

“This place kind of reminds me of that summer camp we went to,” Theo said, as we bounced along the faint dirt road in hopes of finding that great and hopeful sign of civilization, Wi-Fi. “Remember that one summer we all went?”

“Naked guy. Three o’clock,” I whispered.

“Noted.”

“I hated that camp.” The next year, I’d flat-out refused to go, and no amount of cajoling or bribing had worked to change my mind.

“What? It was great. There was swimming and archery and campfires and all kinds of things to do.”

“Yeah, that’s because you were at the boys’ camp.” I swatted at a mosquito. “The girls had lots of arts and crafts. Lots.”

“Naked couple on our left,” Theo said.

“Not totally naked,” I pointed out. “They’re both wearing tennis shoes and socks. Very sensible.”

He choked back a laugh and raised a hand when the couple called out a greeting in passing. “It wasn’t all that bad.”

“I mean, I would have gone with a sandal but to each their own.”

He bumped me with his shoulder. “The camp, I mean.”

“I was forced to make five thousand macaroni necklaces.”

“I remember that. I still have the one you gave me.” He turned left on the path. The motion caused me to lean into his side. I caught a whiff of soap on his skin; we’d showered after we’d gotten to the cabin.

“You do? That was a long time ago.”

“I guess I’m good at holding onto things.” He shot me a small smile.

I hummed, secretly pleased. Granted, I’d been nine at the time and had made said necklace under extreme duress and everyone I knew had gotten their very own handcrafted macaroni necklace, too. But I bet none of my brothers had kept theirs.

“You really didn’t like camping?” Theo asked.

“I didn’t like that summer camp. I loved camping. Remember that place we used to go to on the Frio River?”

For years, our parents would pack up all us kids, Theo included, and we’d head for a campground on the Frio. It was days of living in our swimsuits and playing in the water until our fingers pruned and our arms got tired. (Or I saw a water snake.) Then we’d beg my parents for a few dollars and race to the camp store to buy the cheap popsicles they sold. At night, we’d make s’mores on the campfire and lay out under the stars listening to Cal point out the constellations the rest of us could never see.

“It’s been a while since we’ve all gone,” Theo said.

The last camping trip we’d taken had been about four years ago. Alec had come with me; Theo had brought his girlfriend at the time whose name I couldn’t even remember now. She’d been nice though. Frankie brought Ruth; Cal and Melanie were there too; in fact, that would have been when they met for the first time. It had been bittersweet. I remember sitting around the fire one night, longing for the day when it had just been my brothers and Theo and me, when Abe was with us, and we were kids.

Growing up really sucked sometimes.

“We should go again,” Theo said, pulling me out of my memories. “It would be fun.”

I smiled. “It would be. Maybe we can talk Abe into coming with us, too. It’s not the same without him.”

“That would be nice.” He turned his head, a mixture of sadness and hope swimming in those blue, blue eyes. I felt that in my bones. This mission Cal had sent me on seemed important for so many reasons. It was more than just getting Abe to agree to come to the wedding. It felt bigger than that.

“Do you talk to him a lot?” I traced the edge of my shorts. “I mean, I know you talk. Abe’s mentioned that to me. I know how close you two were. I never really thought about how hard it was for you when he left.”