Page 56 of One Last Summer
I had taken a lover.
Passionately.
Check.
“I shouldn’t joke about Marla and Steve like that,” he continued, the solemn tone of his voice dragging me into the present. “They’re basically family at this point. Honestly, sometimes I like them better than my actual family.”
The sadness in his voice as he said this set off an ache in me, and a sudden desire to soothe away the hurt. “Well, don’t worry, it’s not like you’re going to go work for them or anything.”
Mack let out a sound that was a cross between a laugh and a groan, pressing a hand against his forehead. “I sound like I’m not grateful for them, and I am. I just always feel slightly out of place with my family, like I’m the one who doesn’t quite fit into the Sullivan puzzle. You know, there’s a real expectation of what success looks like to my parents, and sadly for them, I am not it.”
“And you fit in perfectly here,” I said, twisting around to face him.
He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I think that’s safe to say.”
I snuggled in closer and dragged my index finger across his chest, tracing the outline of a heart on his skin, because in this moment it was so obvious to me that this was what drove his every decision. I lived perpetually in my head, but Mack was all heart.
My mind circled back to the renovated boathouse, and the overflowing vegetable garden, the swings on every porch. Pine Lake had always seemed like Steve and Marla’s baby, but now that I was here, it was easy to see that it was Mack’s magic that sparkled on every surface of this place.
“I haven’t really asked you how you feel about Marla and Steve selling this place,” I said. “This has got to be hard for you.”
Mack sighed, a low sound escaping his lips. “Yeah, it is. I love it here. I love getting to work with the kids every summer. It legitimately makes me happy, even after all this time. Though admittedly I am somewhat relieved when they leave.”
He smiled as he said this, a lazy, lopsided twist of his mouth, sliding his arm out from underneath me so he could shift onto his side, our faces inches apart.
“Eight weeks is a long-ass time,” I agreed with a laugh, remembering how annoying and intense we’d been as campers. “Even longer with a bunch of hormonal kids in your face twenty-four-seven.”
“Ha,” he chuckled. “That is a very accurate description of my job. And it is,” he agreed with a nod. “But then it’s also somehow never long enough. I can’t believe I won’t be seeing them again.”
He paused, a wistful look on his face that gutted me. I reached up and brushed his hair off his forehead.
“I’m sure they appreciate you more than you realize,” I said, remembering how stabilizing it felt for me to get to be at Pine Lake every year. “This was my happy place when I was a kid. The time at home, between summers, felt so damn long. I just wanted to be back here, at camp.”
“Same.” He nodded, nuzzling up against my hand, which was still lingering in his hair. “But I always thought it was just me. I never totally got how many kids truly need this place, as a break from whatever is going on at home.”
“I was one of those kids,” I said, a vision of Marla wrapping her arms around me outside of the dining hall after a phone call with my mom clear in my mind.
“What do you mean?” he asked, tilting up his head to meet my gaze.
“You know my parents are divorced, right?” I said, and he nodded.
“Yeah, I remember. When we were in high school.”
“Right.” I snuggled in closer, nestling into his side as I trailed my hand down to his chest. “But my mom thought it would be a good idea to tell me they were splitting up in a letter, which I got in the middle of my last summer here.”
“Jesus Christ, Millen.” Mack’s arm wrapped around my back protectively. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea That’s an awful way to find out.”
“Yeah, I have PTSD every time I go to get the mail.” I tried to pass it off as a joke, but Mack just tugged me closer, like he could tell that hiding beneath my attempts at humor lived the painful, raw truth. “Anyway. Marla always looked out for me. I’m sure it was obvious to her that stuff at home was never great. And that summer especially, she was just always there. I’ve never forgotten her kindness, how she just seemed to know I needed a little extra attention.”
“She’s pretty special,” he said.
“Yeah, she is,” I said, giving him a gentle poke in the ribs. “But you are, too, and I bet you help so many kids without even knowing.”
Mack had long exuded a warm, protective big-brother energy that he willingly extended to anyone in his path. Even as a kid, he was unguarded and open, and it dawned on me that this quality probably made him especially good at his job.
“You wanna see something cool?” he asked.
“Obviously,” I said as he leaned over the side of the bed, shuffling around for a moment.
