Page 68 of Camp Bliss
I turn to go.
“Zach?”
It’s completely unfair the way my heart leaps as I turn back.
“Yeah?”
She props herself up on one elbow, her eyes locking with mine. The blanket slips, revealing a delicate shoulder.
God, she is so lovely.
“Josh used to say you were the best friend anyone could ask for. That you were always there when someone needed you.” Color rises in her cheeks. I’m sure it’s rising in mine too. “I’m sorry it took me until now to realize he was right.”
ChapterTwelve
GRETA
By the first of September,construction crews have poured the foundation and framed out the bathrooms/changing rooms complex. After spending every morning at it for three weeks, the fence is up. And best of all, we’ve had cabin guests two weekends in a row.
Which means we’ve actually made money.
And both couples left five-star reviews on Airbnb.
When I saw the first one, I was already in bed in the fifth wheel, and I squealed so loud, Zach thought a snake was in my room.
He charged across the camper like he was on fire.
Or I was.
I’m more prepared the second time. The review doesn’t pop up until the Monday after the older couple checked out, and Zach and I are eating breakfast in the lodge.
I don’t squeal, but I do bounce in my seat at the island.
“Oh my gosh. Listen to this.” I set down my coffee cup, beaming.“Camp Bliss South is an ideal retreat for nature lovers who want a little peace and quiet but don’t mind a bit of pampering. We especially loved trying out the paddleboards on the lake and sipping Happy Hour cocktails on the lodge’s front porch while the red-throated hummingbirds darted in and out of the zinnia off the porch steps—”
“Good call,” Zach interjects before sipping his coffee.
The swell of pride has me biting down on a smile. The flowerbeds on either side of the path just off the porch were my idea, and I made a point to plant flowers that would bloom well into fall and attract pollinators. It’s gratifying to know that the guests noticed.
And that Zach appreciated it.
I keep reading.“The coffee was to die for, and I’ll be dreaming about that breakfast casserole for years to come.”
“That’s all you.” Zach says, grinning, “Insisting on using Reve coffee. Ordering the breakfast casserole from Black Pot Catering. All of your instincts about renting the cabins were spot-on.”
His praise feels like honeyed sunlight pouring down on me. I’m beaming, and it’s embarrassing.
But I really can’t remember the last time someone so much as told me “Good job, Greta.” In public school, no news is good news. If your principaldoesn’ttalk to you, it means you are meeting all the standards.
And even though Josh gave me a lot of credit for the Camp Bliss concept before we set off on this mission, I don’t remember him encouraging me once things got going.
Probably because he was already looking for a way out.
So maybe I’m a little starved for affirmation. And maybe that’s why the glint of pride in Zach’s eye has my mood soaring like a helium balloon.
I try to get a hold of myself. “Everyone knows Reve Coffee is the best and a breakfast casserole that I can just pop in the oven and call it brunch saves us a ton of work.”
Zach nods. “Yeah. I know. All your ideas.”
