Lighting the Flames (13 page)

Genevieve
laughed.
“
I didn
’
t know you had a paper route.
”

“
Oh,
yeah, when I was, like, twelve. I took over Colin
’
s because he
didn
’
t want to get out of bed in the morning.
”

“
So
what jobs did you put on your r
é
sum
é
? Did it impress your
dad?
”

He laughed.
“
I
didn
’
t show it to him. I put camp on there, listing all the jobs
I
’
ve
done here, plus my most excellent paper route, and when I worked as
a bouncer.
”

“
You
were a bouncer?
”

“
Yeah. I was big. I mean, I still am big,
”
he said, looking
down at himself, like he was making certain he
hadn
’
t shrunk unexpectedly.
“
My
friend
’
s cousin had a bar, and even though I
wasn
’
t twenty-one yet, she needed some help at the door for a
private party, and I looked older than I was, so I agreed to help
out.
”

“
You
should have grown the beard then,
”
Gen said without thinking.
“
Women
would have been throwing themselves at you to get in the
door.
”

He looked down at her,
eyes widened. She felt her cheeks catch fire, but she
didn
’
t look away. She
’
d meant what she
said, and she hoped her smile communicated that fact. She had to be
more curious, and be more open and honest, she decided, if she
wanted to change their relationship. She had to change what sucked
into things that didn
’
t suck, starting now.

“
I
didn
’
t do it for long, but it was good money for standing around
and escorting people out when they got rowdy.
”

Gen tried to hide her amusement and succeeded only
in making a snorting sound.

“
What?
”

She looked up at him
with a grin.
“
It
’
s your destiny. One way or another,
you
’
re showing people the door.
”

Jeremy started to
laugh, which set Genevieve off, and she collapsed against a tree,
cracking up into her gloves. She tried to stop, she really did,
because she didn
’
t want to encourage him, and they were being loud
enough to be overheard from the cabins. But there was no stopping
the laughter that rose inside her like a tide, and she clutched the
tree behind her to stay upright. Tears ran down her face and her
nose ran, and she still kept laughing, pulling herself together for
a moment only to lose it again.

Jeremy was no better.
He was bent in half, his arm resting against another tree, his eyes
tearing. What she
’
d said wasn
’
t even that funny,
but there was so much hilarity built into their history together,
it fueled their laughter. He wiped his face with his hat, then took
the tissue Gen offered from the pack in her hand.

“
Ouch. My head hurts now.
”

He sniffed.
“
Yeah,
mine, too. Let
’
s finish up. It
’
s starting to get
colder.
”

“
Really? I hadn
’
t
noticed.
”
Gen looked up at the sky again for any clouds that had
sneaked in when they weren
’
t looking. When she
turned to Jeremy, he was watching her, a strange expression on his
face.

*

He
couldn
’
t look away from Genevieve.

“
What?
”
Her nose was red, and she was scrubbing the moisture
from her face, but she
’
d never looked
happier. Or more beautiful.

“
Thanks.
”
There was a more behind that one word, but he needed
to break it apart to find what he wanted to say.

“
For
what?
”
They started down the path, holding on to the bare trees as
the trail became steeper toward the lake. Their slow progress gave
him time to think.

“
For
asking.
”

“
I
wanted to know. And
…
like I said. I
’
m really proud of
you.
”

Her words took up
residence in his chest, painful and hot and wonderful, and he took
a deep breath to make room for them.
“
I
’
m proud of you,
too.
”

“
Me?
Why?
”

He huffed out a laugh. Sometimes she asked some
really strange questions.

“
You
left to go finish your research and traveled really freaking far
away, by yourself, when a buttload of people were telling you it
was a bad idea.
”

She waved her hand as
if she were brushing them aside.
“
They
didn
’
t know what they were talking about.
”

“
I
know that. But I
’
m glad you didn
’
t
listen.
”

When he
didn
’
t hear her footsteps behind him, he stopped to make sure
she was okay.

“
It
wasn
’
t easy,
”
she said as she walked toward him. He waited, half
turned to face her on the path.

“
I
know. But are you glad you went?
”

She thought for a moment, coming to a stop right in
front of him so when he looked down, her face was the only thing he
could see.

“
Yeah. I am. No one understood why I wanted to go, why I
went.
”

He waited for her to speak before he started hiking
again.

“
And
people kept asking me what I was going to do, and I could tell they
already knew the answer
—
they just wanted to
tell me not to do it. Then I had to be polite when I wanted to
scream at them.
”

“
I
know. I mean, I know that people didn
’
t get it, and that
they told you not to go. But I know why you went. I
understand.
”

He paused to take her
hand and help her over a fallen tree before he spoke again, not
letting go of her glove. Her fingers curled over his seemed to
smooth the jaggedness of her breathing and kept her closer to him,
a proximity he never took for granted anymore.
“
It
doesn
’
t always matter if people understand, you know? If you do
something that you know is right for you, then who cares what they
think. It
’
s your job to find your happiness.
”

She squeezed his
hand.
“
Right. And change what sucks.
”

The trail connected to the road down to the lake,
and there was enough room for them to walk alongside one another as
they made their way to the frozen water. They didn't need to hide
their tracks. Enough people had traveled down to the lake and back
that the road was covered with boot prints.

“
Are
you going to travel more?
”

“
Maybe. I
’
m not sure.
”

He looked over at her. Her smile was warm, or maybe
it made him feel warm because there was so much pride and
contentment in her expression.

“
Are
you moving back home?
”

She looked
around.
“
You mean here?
”

He laughed.
“
I wish.
No, back to your old ho
—
no, wait. You sold
it.
”

“
I
already did move back. I have an apartment near the
university.
”

“
Really? I didn
’
t know
that.
”

“
Yeah.
”

“
You
graduated, right? I mean
—
wait, you
don
’
t have to answer my questions.
”
He interrupted
himself, his hand out in front of him.

She nudged him with
her arm, her hand still in his.
“
It
’
s okay. You can
always ask.
”

“
Yeah?
”

“
Yeah.
”

He smiled at her, even warmer than before.

“
So,
yes, I graduated. Earlier this month. I
’
m starting the PhD
program in January, and I
’
ve been writing up
some of my research in the meantime. I have some interest from
magazines who might want some articles about the Jewish communities
I studied.
”

“
That
’
s cool.
”

“
And
I also have some tentative interest in a book about my travels, but
nothing definite.
”

Jeremy stopped and
pulled her to a halt with him.
“
Are you
serious?
”

She looked up at him,
a confused expression on her face.
“
Yes?
”

“
Genevieve.
That
is
awesome
!
”
His roar echoed off the canopy of branches and probably
rolled across the lake ice, too, but he didn
’
t care.
“
Are you
going to do it?
”

“
Yeah. I
’
m going to do the articles first, but yeah.
I
’
m
going to do it.
”

He picked her up and
hugged her, spinning her around.
“
I am so proud of you!
Holy shit, Gen. A book!
”

She looked up at him,
her arms on his shoulders then sliding down his chest as he lowered
her to the ground.
“
This isn
’
t a
big
—”

“
Hell
yes
,
it
’
s
a big deal. Gen, seriously. That
’
s huge.
I
—
you
…”
He waved his arms around, unable to fully encompass
all the words he couldn
’
t think of.
“
Seriously.
Dude.
”

A grin spread across
her face, echoing the monstrous amount of joy in his body.
“
Dude.
”

“
Dude
indeed
. Can I read
it?
”

“
Read what?
”

“
Whatever you write? Any of it? All of it?
”

“
Uh,
yeah. Of course.
”

“
Awesome.
”
He put his arm around her shoulder as they walked the
rest of the way to the beach. She fit easily in the space beneath
his arm, tucked next to his body, and he
’
d missed having her
there for so long that feeling her there made him look repeatedly
to make sure she was real.

Then, slowly, she slid her arm around him and hung
on. He looked down at where her hand rested on his opposite side,
then over at her face. His arm tightened around her for a moment,
and he felt the familiarity of her embrace run through him.

He
hadn
’
t ever expected to talk to Genevieve about his work, about
his mortuary degree, while walking down the road to the lake. That
part of his life didn
’
t really belong in his life at camp, his time
with Genevieve. He
’
d never expected to talk to her about any of it,
even though he
’
d wanted to. He
’
d chickened out last
year the night he
’
d left, and still beat himself up about it. He
hadn
’
t known how to tell her that he was going to be a
mortician, that he was following his dad into the family business,
that he wouldn
’
t be at camp anymore. He hadn
’
t wanted to tell her
any of the things about her family, about her
parents
’
funeral.