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Cam stirred then, glancing at me warily at first and then a smile warming his features. “You’re welcome to sit.” Cam’s smile and his gruff voice lifted me out of the self-doubt that pulled me in often lately—self-doubt about everything from approaching a near-stranger’s fire pit to being the whistleblower in my old job to leaving the city. Self-doubt that went back much further than that if I was honest.
“Thanks.” I stepped into the light of the fire and sank down in the big chair opposite Cam, leaving my boots on the ground and tucking my feet up under me. “It’s chilly here at night.” And now I was talking about the weather like a sixty-year old woman. Wonderful.
“One of the best things in the mountains. Even in the middle of the hottest summer it cools off at night.” His eyes didn’t leave the flickering flames, but his voice sounded more even, more welcoming, than a moment before.
I took a deep breath, Cam’s company and the soothing crackle of the fire finally making me feel like I could relax. Tension seeped from my limbs and I began to realize how tired I was.
“Everything okay at the house?” Cam asked, and though I wasn’t looking at him, I could sense that his eyes had left the flames and were on my face. The knowledge sent a zing of self-consciousness through me, which I shoved away.
“Yeah,” I managed. “Sure.”
“But...?” Cam pressed.
I didn’t want to complain again that the place was too big for me, that I was scared like a little girl with too much space around me. “It’s bigger than I’m used to is all.”
He didn’t press further and we resumed our fireside vigil, each of us in our own thoughts until he spoke again.
“Seen you in town a bit,” he volunteered after a bit. “Noticed you having lunch with Craig a few days ago.”A question was hidden in his statement.
I nodded, finding his eyes over the flames. “I started work, so I’ve been around.” I’d seen Cam at the diner at lunch the day I’d met my dad, and though I knew that’s what he was talking about, it wasn’t something I would jump to discuss.
“How do you know Craig?” His lips pulled up the tiniest bit on one side, telling me he knew he was prying.
I raised my eyes to consider him. He didn’t seem like the nosy type, and it surprised me he’d ask about what he’d seen. But it was a small town, and I knew he must have been curious. There was probably no point to keeping secrets if I was going to live here for any period of time. “Craig’s my father.”
Cam nodded—not even a hint of surprise on his face, and his eyes stayed on mine, but he didn’t say anything.
“He and my mom—Susan Lyles—lived up here when I was born. They divorced when I was seven, and my mom took me with her when she left.”
Cam didn’t press me for more details, seeming to quietly accept whatever I was willing to offer. It made me want to keep talking.
“I’ve only seen him once since the divorce,” I said, thinking about that one time when Dad showed up soon after we’d moved to Oregon from Kings Grove. “He never visited, didn’t call much. We moved a lot after that. I lived in New Mexico, Florida, Ensenada, Madrid and Toronto. My mom liked to keep moving.”
I checked in to see if Cam was still listening, and when I met his eyes, they glowed in the firelight, filled with what I thought was sympathy or understanding.
“Until recently, I hadn’t spoken to my dad since I was eighteen. My mom and I keep in touch, but she’s more of an acquaintance than anything at this point.” I trailed off and my words seemed to linger around us in the cool air, twisting and spiraling in the light breeze as the flames danced and sparked.
“But you came back,” Cam said, pointing out the obvious issue. Why did a girl who didn’t want to speak to her father cross the country and abandon her life to live in the same tiny mountain town he’d never left?
“Didn’t have a choice. My life exploded. He’s helping me financially, which is humiliating to admit to my landlord, by the way.”
“Nah.”
“I’ve never needed help before.” I felt angry as I said it. “I left for college as soon as I graduated from high school. Paid my own way through community college and then transferred to NYU. Got a job and earned my Masters during the first few years of work.”
“That’s impressive,” Cam said. “Why come back now?”
I didn’t want to tell him that very long story. I slid my legs out from beneath me, slipping my boots back on and leaning forward, letting the heat of the fire lick my face. “It’s complicated.”
Cam didn’t press, just nodded once and then seemed to let it go. Part of me wanted to tell him everything, but I’d monopolized the conversation enough for one night. I pushed down the urge to speak, to fill the strange charged space between us with words, and just leaned into the warmth of the fire and the comfort of Cam’s quiet strong presence instead.
After a few minutes of silence, I realized I didn’t know much about him, except that his sister Maddie worked at the diner and had married Connor Charles, the novelist. They were planning a wedding in August, which would be a big focus in my work life. “What about you?” I tried, sensing for some reason that asking Cam questions might not be something I was supposed to do.
His sharp eyes narrowed and I could see him tense from across the fire. He was silent a long time and I thought he was actually going to pretend I hadn’t even asked a question. When the silence reached a crescendo, pressing me to either speak again or just stand and call it a night, he answered. “Moved here a couple years ago to be with my sister. From Hollywood.”
“Cool,” I said. “Your parents...?”
“Dad lives in Fresno. In a home. He has dementia.”
