Page 32 of Flights and Sights

“Can I read it?”

He smiled a little and let out a surprised little laugh. “You want to?”

“Of course. If you don’t mind, I mean.”

After another moment’s consideration, he turned his laptop to face me. “If there’s anything you want me to change—”

I held up my hand and shook my head. “Shh. I’m reading.” The article was long, longer than I’d anticipated, and almost exclusively about Celestial Cask. There were a couple of mentions of Foggy Basin Brewing, but only in passing. The article talked about the history of the meadery, details about how we were different from most meaderies around the country, profiles of different flavors we served, and so much more. I had never felt more understood in my life. “This is… great.”

Callum’s face lit up. “You like it?”

“It’s amazing. It’s so thorough.”

“It’s not too much, is it?”

I shook my head again. “Not at all. Do you think your boss will like it?”

He raised his eyebrows quickly. “I hope so. It’s a little more… focused than my usual pieces. But I think this place deserves the attention.”

My cheeks and chest warmed at the compliment. “Thanks.” A beat passed. “Are you… sticking around? Do you have somewhere to be?”

He shook his head. “Nowhere to be. What did you have in mind?”

I glanced at the time. Tommy would be in soon. “Up for a surprise?”

His eyebrows shot up but he nodded, a smile on his face. “I’m open to a surprise.”

“Perfect. Wait right here.” Ten minutes later, I was pulling my pickup around to the front of the meadery and texting Callum to meet me outside. As he stepped out into the parking lot, I noticed he was still favoring his ankle a bit.

He climbed in the truck and buckled up. “Okay. Where to?”

“Surprise, remember?” I put the truck into gear and pulled onto the street. It wasn’t a long drive to our destination, a few miles away, and soon, I was headed down a short, bumpy road that led to the lake.

When I pulled into the gravel parking lot not far from the boat launch, Callum turned to me with a soft, knowing smile. “You brought me to the lake?”

I shrugged and let out a little chuckle. “I thought we could both use some cheering up. I used to spend a lot of time here as a kid.”

“I don’t have—”

“Neither do I. But we can adapt.”

He nodded once to concede the point. “Lead the way.”

We got out of the truck and Cal followed me to the shore, where I turned and headed down the trail that followed the curve of the lake to the west. “Watch your step. Don’t want you turning that ankle again.”

“You do this a lot? Go hiking out here?”

“Not as much as I used to.” A few minutes later, we came up to a clearing where the tree line receded fifty yards or so away from the shore, which was wide, flat, and beachy. Callum slowed to a stop. “Almost there,” I assured him, ignoring his look of confusion.

We kept going another couple of minutes before we came to a much smaller clearing, and where the water met the land, there was a small, steep drop-off. Several trees loomed on the bank, one of them with a long, thick rope tied to one of its branches. The rope ended in a wide wood plank, worn smooth over the years, which was held to the tree trunk by a hook that someone had drilled into the tree.

“What’s this?”

I went to him and took him by the hand to drag him closer to the lake bank. “A rope swing.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not. Let’s go swimming.” Without missing a beat, I kicked off my shoes and stripped to my boxer briefs. “Your turn.”