Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
16
Slade
“What are we doing?” I ask when Campbell pulls into a gravel parking lot. In the distance is a stony path that cuts between skyscraping evergreens.
I’m back in Sapphire Shores for a quick weekend. At this point, Blythe has all the wedding planning under control. The only thing left to do is bond with Campbell, I suppose. Coming here was easier when we had a schedule, an agenda, a purpose. This whole going-with-the-flow and trying to connect makes me feel like I’m out of my element—and out of control. Not ideal.
“Stargazing.” She kills the engine of her little silver Audi and grabs a bag out of the backseat.
“Is this something you do here … for fun?” I follow her down the trail until we reach an open field of grass with a stretch of fence along the east section where it turns into a cliff. Below, waves crash. Above the full moon casts a glow across an otherwise pitch black sky. Scenery aside, there’s nothing worse than being forced to be alone with my thoughts.
We’re the only two souls here, likely because it’s mid-March and all the locals have jetted off to warmer climates for spring break.
Smart move.
“It’s something I do to relax,” she says. “Isn’t it so peaceful out here?”
Crickets chirp and somewhere behind us, an owl hoots. We might as well be in a scene from The Notebook or Where the Crawdads Sing.
Campbell spreads a red flannel blanket on the ground before producing a bottle of pinot noir, a corkscrew, and two stemless glasses.
“Not trying to be romantic or anything,” she says as she opens the wine. “Just thought this might help take the edge off.”
“What edge?”
She shrugs as she pulls the cork. “You’re always so tense around me. And I never know how to act around you. We’ve got to get over this.”
“Wasn’t aware I was tense.”
“Oh.” Her bright blue eyes flick to mine. “So that’s just how you always are? Frowning? Stiff? Formal? Serious?”
“You’ve known me for twenty-four years,” I remind her. “Have you ever known me to be any other way?”
“To be fair, I’ve known you for twenty-four years, but only as an acquaintance and a poor excuse for a pen pal. We’ve never actually even tried to get to know each other on a personal level.”
“Why start now?” I take the glass she hands me and offer her a wink in exchange.
“Because we don’t want to be miserable for the next twenty years,” she says before taking a sip. “That’s why. Now lay back and relax.”
She lies down, nestling her glass in a grassy patch beside the blanket and slipping her hands behind her head. Drawing in a long breath, she releases a yawn. All afternoon, she drove me around Sapphire Shores, showing me every square inch of the fairytale town. The woman had a story or informational side note for everything.
The time she volunteered at the animal shelter and came home with a mama dog and four foster puppies.
The time she tee-pee’d the principal’s house on Sherwood Hill, got caught, and received detention for a week and almost had to miss the homecoming dance …
The time she snuck out to go to a party at the Mansfield Mansion with her best friend, Stassi, and the cops were called, but they let her go because her father donated money to the local police department each year …
The time she fell asleep in her car outside the public library because she’d been studying for twelve hours straight and someone woke her up by tapping on the window and it was the same principal whose home she had tee-pee’d the year before …
The horse stables where she learned to ride for the first time …
The “boring” country club where her parents spend seventy percent of their free time …
The park where she had her first kiss in seventh grade and the boy’s bubble gum got stuck in her braces …
Campbell gasps. “Did you see that shooting star?”
“Must have missed it.”
She swats my arm. “Lay down then.”
I swallow a mouthful of wine and lean back on my elbows.
“All the way,” she says.
Groaning, I do it, but only so she’ll stop hounding me. The earth beneath us is hard, littered with small twigs and rocks and who knows how many bugs. Nothing about this is comfortable or relaxing, nor am I dressed for it in my gray slacks and pristine white button down. Had she told me we were going to be spending time outdoors, I’d have come prepared.
From the corner of my eye, I watch my future wife gaze at the sky with sheer awe. Her chest rises and falls, slow and gentle, and her eyes shine with the reflection of a million stars.
What I wouldn’t give to be so carefree and in the moment sometimes …
“Do you think if we’d have met in, I don’t know, college, as complete strangers, we’d have hit it off?” she asks.