“What? The part where your mother has a—mmph!”
“When?” I ask.
“You want details, talk to her. Pretty sure she was trying to clean up the mess and do what we do best, but it wasn’t enough to keep Begonia from getting fired from her job. Sucks too. I heard she’s a great art teacher. World needs more of those.”
The world needs more Begonia.
Period.
And Begonia needs more of knowing that she’s loved for exactly who she is.
Not from my mother.
Not from her ex-husband.
Not from any random dickwad who won’t appreciate her for exactly what she is.
But from someone like me.
Someone who won’t take her for granted. Who knows how wrong relationships can go.
Who’s still terrified.
But who might finally be ready to look that old fear in the eye and decide that love is a risk worth taking.
And if I’m wrong—if she’s already moved on—if she doesn’t want me after all of my fuck-ups—then that’s a consequence I’ll have to deal with.
Even if I don’t have the first clue how.
37
Begonia
I’m back in Richmond, once again eyeballing a Groupon for a boat ride out of Virginia Beach after failing to take that leap in the Outer Banks, again, when Hyacinth calls.
“Baby?” I ask her, as if she doesn’t still have almost three months to go.
“Begonia,” she whispers.
A full-body chill washes over me at her tone. “What? What?” I whisper-shriek back.
“Camp Funshine sold again.”
“What? No. No. Why didn’t we know it was for sale? What are they going to ruin now? We’ve done this, Hy. I’m not doing it again. I’m not watching this again. Not right now. Not right now.”
“B. Stop. Slow down. Listen. The new owner wants to make it into a camp again.”
“What?”
“Stop saying what?! Just—just stay there. I’m coming to get you. Get Marshmallow ready for the car.”
My stomach is in knots while Marshmallow and I wait for Hyacinth.
When Camp Funshine was sold the first time, we were devastated. It’s one of those memories I push down, and I try to remember the good times, not the heartache of knowing it wasn’t just Dad losing his camp, but that it was all of the kids losing their summer escape.
It was Hyacinth and me losing our place.
Not that I could’ve afforded it if I’d known it was for sale again, but— But I love to dream.
And I would’ve dreamed.
She has both kids in the back of her minivan, and they’re flinging Cheerios and Goldfish at Marshmallow, who’s strapped in six ways to Sunday so he doesn’t try to get out while the van’s moving, as we head out of the suburbs and into the hilly countryside.
“Why are we going?” I ask. “What can we do now?”
“They want our advice.”
“Now? Now? Hello, warning.”
“Begonia. If this is the only time my kids ever get to see Camp Funshine, we’re fucking going, okay? If I’d been on the vacation of a lifetime in Australia and my kids were at camp in Europe and I got the call that I had one chance to influence what happens to Camp Funshine coming back, I would’ve fucking flown around the world six times over to get here.”
I blink back more unwelcome heat in my eyes and nod.
Hy fell in love for the first time at Camp Funshine.
The second time too. And the third. All in one summer.
She lost her virginity out here. Not that we ever would’ve told Dad or Mom that.
And the pool. The campfire skits. The horseback riding.
The art hut.
My art hut.
“We had the best childhood,” I say softly.
She cuts a wet-eyed glance in the rearview mirror, undoubtedly looking at her kids. “The best,” she agrees.
I still don’t understand why we get one chance to go see the property and offer suggestions, but I know Hy’s right.
We can’t turn down this chance.
If we do it right, maybe we’ll get more chances.
We’re quiet most of the ride, talking with her kids and Marshmallow when we need to, and after about an hour, we turn off onto a gravel road that used to have a giant sign for Camp Funshine sitting prominently at the corner, but now has a cow.
Just a cow.
Staring at us while we pass.
“Fucking cow,” Hy mutters.
“Fucking cow!” Dani parrots from the back seat.
Another quarter mile down the road, my heart squeezes at the sight of the farmhouse that used to be Dad’s, the farmhouse where we all lived before the divorce, where Hyacinth and I would sneak out from to go do the ropes courses by flashlight because we thought we were invincible.