Page 81 of I Think He Knows
And by not busy, I mean that I was lying on my couch, watching a movie with the best famous Chris in it. And for once in my life, I was letting myself ogle the butt-that-definitely-doesn’t-belong-to-Chris.
“Well, I figured that would be the case.”
Ah, there it is.
“What would you like me to do, Mona?” I ask, my smile a little more forced than it was before.
Mona called me fifteen minutes ago to say that one of the moms volunteering at the campout had come down with a sudden bout of food poisoning and asked if I could come and help in her place. At first, I was a bit torn. For one thing, I was already wearing my strictly indoors sweatpants. For another, being in close proximity to Carter this week has had me continuously concerned for my health.
On the surface, everything’s been normal. I worked and dropped Legs off at school and dance practice. Carter worked out and had meetings and cooked every one of our meals in my tiny little kitchen (well, he cooked one meal and then ordered in for all the rest). But every time his eyes met mine, or he touched me casually, or he said something dangerously flirtatious, it was like a device was detonating in my stomach.
I mean, the man gave me a diamond ring. Arealdiamond ring. From Tiffany’s. That likely does—as Luke so eloquently put it—cost more thanbothmy house and vehicle. And not only that, but since the almost kiss at the engagement party and the spine-tingling way he trapped me against the chain-link fence at softball, he hasn’t made any move to kiss me again. Not even once…
The moment he told me he got me the ring because he wanted me to have it—because it looked like it should be mine—was almost enough to make me scream, “Just kiss me already!”
But I didn’t.
And he hasn’t.
Meaning that my mind and body are shaky messes, tense with want and anticipation.
I feel like we’ve been orbiting one another like satellites. Keeping our distance because we had to, even while the space between us crackled with tension and electricity.
The problem is that if and when we collide, I worry that the fallout is going to be spectacular…
But I can’t think about him leaving again right now. Going there involves too many layers of pain, and I resolved to celebrate this thing between us. So here I am, last-minute volunteering and hoping to steal another precious few minutes with him tonight if he’s not already asleep.
“Well, before she got sick, Padma was on campsite duty,” Mona says as she neatly fastens the lid on a large rubbermaid bin full of lawn games.
“What does that entail?” I crouch down to tie the lace on my tennis shoe. All around me, moms are milling around helping the clean-up effort. I didn’t sign up to volunteer because, until Carter showed up in the Sonic parking lot that day, I had no idea that Legs would actually be attending this thing.
“Checking that there aren’t any girls out of bed, making sure that all the trash in the area is picked up…” Mona holds out a black garbage bag.
“Sounds good.” I finish tying my shoe, then grab the bag. Armed with that and a flashlight, I set off for the camp area across the field, where I’m greeted by a cacophony of snores coming from several tents.
How are the girls sleeping through this?
I do a quick lap, pausing by the new unicorn tent and boring black tent that sit side by side and contain the two most important people in the world to me. I smile, wondering what they talked about this evening. What they did together. I hope Allegra got what she needed out of tonight. I wish I could creep inside the first tent and kiss her goodnight, then slip into the other one for a few minutes to watch Carter sleep. Like a creep.
As I move through the rest of the campsite, all seems quiet (save for the snoring) on the western front. So, I get to work gathering a bag full of trash.
By the time I’m done, there’s only one small group of moms left, all huddled around the remnants of a campfire and blowing on hot chocolates while chatting. A few mom volunteers will keep watch tonight to make sure no little girls go rogue in the forest. But Mona didn’t say she needed me for a shift, so I hesitate, bouncing on my toes.
Maybe I can sneak into Allegra’s tent for a second?
Before I can give it too much thought, I’m unzipping the unicorn tent and climbing in. Through the darkness, I can vaguely make out the lines of my daughter’s peacefully sleeping face. She’s cuddled up and looks perfectly comfortable. I kneel to stroke back her hair and give her a little forehead kiss before slipping out and quietly rezipping the tent.
I pause for a moment, dithering, before I unzip the black tent too.
I poke my head in, and then, upon hearing the steady breathing coming from the Carter-shaped lump in the dark, I creep closer.
“Hey.” A hissed whisper comes from the air mattress as Carter bolts upright, and I find myself looking straight into midnight blue eyes that are wide and wild. “You just about gave me a heart attack!”
“I’m sorry, I thought you were asleep,” I whisper back, feeling a strange mix of happy that he’s awake, and sad that I missed out on watching him sleep. Like the weirdo I am.
“Light sleeper,” he murmurs, a sleepy grin creeping over his face. “What’re you doing here?”
I crouch next to him. “I’m helping clean up. One of the volunteer moms got sick.”