Page 202 of Camp Bliss
Her voice is hoarse from calling both God’s name and mine, and I’ll wear her laryngitis as a badge of honor, thank you very much.
My hair is a wreck. Greta pulls a twig out of it as we’re breaking down the tent. She examines it between her fingers.
“You think it’s from the time we did it against the tree?”
I shrug. “That or the time we did it on the way back from the camper.”
Because, of course, we couldn’t leave Russell alone all night.
I count it as a sign of my continued good luck that as loathsome as our Camp Bliss South guests are, they’re good sleepers. Because when we made that midnight trip? We did it without a stitch of clothing.
Crazy? Maybe. But what’s the point of owning four hundred acres of woods if you’re not going to use the cover of night to chase after the woman you love in all of her Edenic glory?
No point at all.
In fact, I plan to chase her naked through the woods for as long as I’m upright.
I love her.
She loves me.
There’s nothing else to prove.
Epilogue
ZACH
A FEW YEARS LATER
“But what if I fall?”The four-year-old in the harness and helmet looks completely terrified.
“You won’t fall, Na-Na,” her cousin Maisy shouts from the ground below—thirty feet below.
Diego, one of our most patient counselors, crouches on the platform beside her. “I promise you, Naomi. You won’t fall. Ms. Greta and Mr. Zach have made sure that everything here is really safe for all the boys and girls.”
Usually, Diego isn’t out here on Saturdays, but our birthday party booking was special. Mom is eight months pregnant. Dad has some kind of health issue. Maybe a head injury? So neither one is on the challenge course, which is unusual for our birthday clients her age.
But this is what little Naomi wanted for her party. Camp Bliss.
For little kids, we only try to tackle the rock wall, the rope ladder, and the zipline. No dual catwalk. No Lily Pad Lane. Her cousin Maisy could do them. Her paperwork said she was nine. She and the eight-year-old boy in her shadow—I think his name is Grayson—could handle the bigger challenges, but the six other kids at this party are really too small. They just don’t have the coordination yet.
“You don't have to go by yourself,” Diego explains to Naomi. “I can ride the zipline with you.” He’s already got the tandem harness in his hand, ready to secure it to the zip as soon as Naomi gives him the green light.
But the four-year-old scowls and shakes her head. “I want Mommy to!”
Beside me, Naomi’s mom laughs nervously. “Honey, Mommy can’t ride with you. My belly is way too big!”
And she isn’t lying. Maybe it’s just her small frame, but her baby bump is more like a baby barge.
I’m serving as spotter as usual. If anyone is on the challenge course, either Greta or I are onsite. Always. Even from here, I can see the little girl’s bottom lip quiver. “Daddy?”
Something like a growl comes from the man near me. “Ssso…rry… Nnnugget.” Then the man signs something to the little girl that ends with him touching his head.
Diego tries again. “Naomi, I know I’m not Mommy or Daddy, but I’m really happy to be at your party, and I’d love to ride the zipline with you.”
I crack a smile. This kid just earned a raise.
For a newly-minted four-year-old, the blonde little girl gives Diego a look of supreme condescension. “But you’re a boy, and the only boy I like is Daddy.”
