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I should just turn around. There’s a reason I haven’t come back to Hunter’s Hollow in the past eleven years. A reason why I’ve insisted Mom come visit me for holidays instead of the other way around.
There’s still time to back out of this plan and go home.
I could do it.
Really, I could.
But I don’t. I drive along the winding dirt road that leads to The Hollow with a lump in my throat that I can’t seem to swallow down. The road is empty and surrounded by acres and acres of pine trees. Dust flies in every direction around my little Toyota, despite how slowly I’m going. Which, for the record, is so slow I’m not sure I haven’t stopped.
I remember driving this road the day I got my driver’s license, when everything still felt okay. Safe. Happy, even.
Things were so different back then. It felt like everything was going to change for the better, like my life was beginning. And, I guess, in a way it was, just not in the way I hoped.
That day was the beginning of the end for me, the beginning of it all falling apart.
I catch sight of the office up ahead, next to a large, wooden sign.
Hunter’s Hollow
Boat rentals, recreation for all ages, cabin rentals, and more.
Established 1952
The office building is small and rustic, a cabin itself, and the smallest of the nearly twenty others that exist on the land. Once, generations ago, it was the cabin where the Hunter family lived before they expanded it to the campground it is today. I pull to a stop in front of the building, inhaling deeply and releasing it with a puff. Stepping out of the car, I shut the door and cross the grassy yard on my way toward the small porch.
I jog up three stairs and reach the door. This place is laden with memories, good and bad. For the good, I remember lazy summers on the porch swing to my right, dozing off with a book in my hands; warm evenings with popsicle juice dripping down my hand as I raced the boys to finish mine; and nights catching lightning bugs in the yard. Of the bad, I remember crying. Sobbing over leaving when we’d just come to visit, over my dad when we came to stay for good, and, eventually, over him. I remember the day I left for the final time, driving away from this town and vowing to never look back.
And, of course, there are the awful memories. The kind that, when they sneak past the wall I’ve built in my mind and catch me by surprise, make my entire body feel as if it’s been encapsulated in ice. The memories that still haunt me.
With another inhale of breath, I pull open the door, get blasted by the air conditioning inside, and step into the office.
The space smells of cedar and dust, a combination that brings instant tears of nostalgia to my eyes. I missed this place, and until now, I wasn’t aware of
just how much.
“I’ll be right with you!” I hear my mom’s chipper voice from somewhere in the back.
“You’d better,” I call, stepping forward toward the hall that leads to Mom’s and Jill’s offices. The old floor creaks underfoot, and I spot the scuffs on the floor from when Jack and I rode our rollerskates down the hall every day until we were threatened with having them taken away.
I hear, rather than see, her response. An audible gasp, the sudden roll of a chair. Then, with seven quick steps, she’s there. Her jaw drops from the end of the hall, and you’d think she had no idea I was coming from the way her entire body seems to go slack and her eyes glisten with tears.
“Carmen?”
I’ve nearly reached her, but it’s not quick enough. She holds out her arms, launching herself forward and giving me one of her signature hugs—squeezing me too tightly and for too long as we rock back and forth from side to side. When she pulls back, her hands run over the sides of my face as if she hasn’t seen me in years, when it’s only been months—or hours if you include our daily video chats.
“Te he estrañado mucho, mi vida,” she mumbles, pulling her hands back finally to dry her tears.
“I’ve missed you too, Mama.” I kiss her cheek, realizing there are wrinkles there I haven’t noticed on the video calls.
She runs a hand over her graying ponytail—still mostly black, but changing quickly. “You made it okay? No trouble?”
I nod, holding my arms out to my sides as if to say, Ta-Da! “Yep. All in one piece.”
“It’s been too long, mija. I can’t believe you’re here. I never thought I’d see the day.”
Before I can respond, I hear the front door slam shut, and then Jill’s voice carries through the small office. “Elena, there’s a car outside. Any idea who it—”
She cuts off just as I turn around and see her at the opposite end of the hall. Unlike my mom, it truly has been a few years since I saw the woman I once considered a second mother. Her hazel eyes light up at the sight of me, and when she smiles, it’s with her full face.
She presses a hand to
her hip, rubbing her lips together. “Well, it’s about time you came back home. I was starting to take your staying away personally.”
“Jill…” I cross the hallway, wrapping her up in my arms. She smells just the way I remember—of the mint body lotion she wears daily, sunscreen, and cotton fabric softener. It’s a scent I associate with summers and freedom, safety, and comfort. Despite everything that happened, guilt weighs on me for staying away from Jill for so long. I know it’s not just me who thinks of her as family. The feeling is mutual. She is my second mother, and I will always be her stand-in daughter, the daughter she never had. “I’m sorry. I missed you.”
“I missed you too, kiddo.” She rubs my back and releases me, her hugs always much shorter but equally as warm as my mother’s. She gives me a once-over. “Look at you, all grown up.” Her eyes find my mom a few steps from us over my shoulder. “When did that happen?”
“Beats me.” Mom shrugs, patting my back as she moves past. “They were all supposed to stay little for a lot longer. That’s what the brochures told us anyway.”
“Well, I’ll be.” I turn my head just in time to see Sam walking through the door. “If it isn’t Little Miss Big City, come back to see us. ’Bout damn time.” He grins at me brightly, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. I see both of his boys in him: Jack’s warm, chocolate hair and Dean’s dark eyes. His skin is tanned from the sun, and he adjusts the ball cap on his head as he beams in my direction.
Sam should’ve been my stand-in father. In every way that mattered, I suppose he was. He’s married to Jill, and the two of them were there for me through everything growing up, but still, there’s an awkwardness that exists between us. Perhaps because he looks so much like his sons, like the boy I loved not so long ago, or perhaps—and more likely—because he’s not my dad, and I never wanted to feel like I was trying to replace him. I think, in some ways, Sam sensed that and wanted to be respectful. Which is why, even now, he waits for me to step forward to give him a hug before he holds an arm out.
“Good to see you, Sam.”
He presses a soft kiss to the top of my head. “You too, kiddo. Your mom hasn’t shut up about you coming.”
Before the words have completely left his mouth, a ball of something soft whacks him on the shoulder, narrowly missing me. He chuckles, bending down to pick up a pair of the socks we keep on hand to sell to guests who might need an extra pair during a cold night.
Mom scoffs. “Shut up, Sam.”
He chuckles, tossing the socks up and catching them in his palm like a ball. “She’s gotten mean in her old age, too.” He winks at me just before being pelted with two more pairs of socks, this time from both Mom and Jill.
Laughing, he gathers the three pairs of socks and delivers them back to the counter carefully. He ruffles Mom’s hair and kisses Jill’s cheek. “Oh, you know I’m teasing, ladies.” Getting down to business, he raps his knuckles on the countertop. “Now, why was I here? Oh, right. Cabin eight’s all settled in, but there weren’t extra blankets in the closet. I need to grab some and run ’em back over there.”
My mom steps aside so Sam can move past us and down the hall. She swats at his back playfully as he does. Minutes later, he jogs out the door, blankets in hand, and returns to his golf cart.
“Well”—Jill sighs—“we’ve got to get you all settled in. We’ve put you in cabin sixteen, so you’ll have some privacy and—”
“Wait. I’m not staying with you?” I look at Mom. “Why? I don’t need a whole cabin to myself. I’m just here for two months. I can sleep in my old room.”
Mom and Jill exchange a look I can’t quite read, one heavy with meaning. They’ve always been able to do this—carry on conversations entirely in silence.
“What’s going on?” I press, drawing their attention back to me.
“Well, of course you can stay with me, Car. I just…well, I thought you might like some alone time while you’re here. I’ve already turned your room into a craft space so I can paint the pieces for my little village, but there’s always the couch. I just thought you’d be more comfortable in a bed.”
Something inside me deflates like a balloon that’s been popped. She packed away my room? My things? My bed? Of course she did. It’s been eleven years. She had every right to make the house more comfortable for her, but that doesn’t make it sting any less.
“Oh. Right. Well, okay. Sure. That makes sense.”
She tilts her head to the side, visibly upset. “Honey, we’ll get it worked out. You can have my bed, and I’ll sleep on the couch. Or we can share the bed. Or I can order an air mattress and set it
up in your old room. I’m sorry. I just thought—”
“No, don’t be silly.” I wave her off, interrupting the numerous solutions. “Honestly, it’s fine. I don’t mind staying in another cabin. It’ll give me more space to work, so it’s probably better. As long as there’s an opening? I don’t want to be taking away two months’ worth of rent from you guys. And I can totally stay in one of the smaller cabins, anyway. It’s just me.”
Jill shakes her head at my concern, moving toward the counter. “Oh, no. You’re not taking anything away. Not at all. We’ve had the cabin set aside for you from the second your mom found out you were coming home.” She opens a drawer and shoves the socks back inside, then opens another and retrieves a key, holding it out to me. “It’s all yours.” When I hold my hand out, she places it in my palm slowly, her hand embracing mine. “For as long as you need. Consider it your ‘welcome home’ present.”
“Thank you.” When she releases my hand, I tuck the key into my back pocket just as I hear a truck pull up outside, signaling that more guests have arrived. “I guess I’ll go take my bags down and unpack. I’ll see you after work?”
Mom nods, squeezing me into a hug again, and plants a kiss on my cheek. “Yes, go get settled in, and I’ll see you for dinner once we close up for the day.” She checks her watch. “Just a few more hours.”
Jill glances out the window. “Do you need help with your bags, Carmen? The boys should be around here somewhere…”
My heart plummets, my chest constricting. “No.” I blurt the word, practically scream it, then try—and fail—to recover while both women stare at me with wide eyes. “I mean, no. I’m okay. I’ve got it.”
“Okay.” Mom chuckles, cutting a glance at her best friend with a look that is both confused and knowing all at once. “Suit yourself. You remember where it is?”
“Where what is?” The voice comes from behind me, sending a shiver down my spine. I spin around at the sound of it, my eyes landing on a boy—a man—I haven’t seen in years. He looks equally taken aback to see me, his dark eyes locked on mine in frozen stupor.
He’s tall, dark, and handsome in every sense of the word. All long, thick limbs, with a dusting of dark stubble across his chin. He looks so much like his dad, like his brother, it’s painful for me.
“Carmen…” My name leaves his lips on a breath. “Wow.” He blinks, shaking his head, and seems to snap back into reality. “I…” He takes two steps forward, reaching for me and pulling me into a one-armed hug. “You’re…here. Wow.”
I hug him back. “Hey, Dean.” He smells clean, like soap and an earthy cologne that comes loaded with memories. Cashmere and sandalwood—warm and safe, the epitome of Dean.
“What are you doing here?”
My brows draw down. “You didn’t know I was coming?”
He shakes his head, looking up at his mom. “You knew?”
She glances at my mom, wincing, then looks back at me. “Well…yes, we did. Honestly though, Carmen, we weren’t sure you were actually going to make it here. We didn’t want to…we didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up.”
She says it kindly, but I hear the words she isn’t saying. My return might not be this welcome by everyone. If they’d told them I was coming, there was a chance Jack would’ve disappeared.
“Well, surprise.” I give an exaggerated shrug.
Dean’s hand still hasn’t left my back as he looks down at me. “It’s a nice surprise.” His gaze is gentle, holding my eyes with so much left unsaid passing between us. Years of awkward Merry Christmas! and Happy birthday! texts have done little to quell the strangeness that sits between us now. And if our encounter feels odd, I can’t imagine how it’ll feel to see—
“Jack! Speak of the devil. There you are!” Jill’s voice rings through the office as I hear the creak of the door.
I turn to see the face of the man I once thought I’d never see again. At one point, hoped I’d never see again.
He’s shirtless—gorgeous—and drenched in sweat. His once chocolate-brown hair is lighter now, more cinnamon from the sun. He drops the bag of tools in his hand, staring at me as if he’s seen a ghost. His skin pales, eyes wide as they dance between mine, then to his mom, my mom, and finally Dean, before they come to rest on mine again.
“Carmen.” My name is a full sentence on his perfect lips.
“Hi, Jack,” I say, my voice crackling with uncertainty.
Dean’s hand leaves my back as Jack and I stare at each other for what feels like a lifetime. There is, in fact, a lifetime of things to say—things I wish I could say, things I will never say—between us.
“Why are you here?” His voice is gentle, quiet and unsure, as if he thinks he might
be dreaming. Or hallucinating from heat exhaustion from the looks of it.
“I’m…I’m staying here for the summer. I took some time off of work to visit Mom.”
Slowly, he removes the tan, leather utility gloves from one hand, then the other. “You’re…you’re staying here?”
“We put her in cabin sixteen,” Jill says, ever so pleasantly.
His eyes dart up to meet his mother’s, and he bends to pick up the bag. “I’ve gotta get back to work.” With that, he’s gone, and even in a room full of people, I’m completely alone.
After today, everything will be different. ...
