We stopped quickly to get bottles of iced tea to sip on the road, and after downing most of mine, I took my chance, just as we pulled out of the “Rest Stop”.
“Your wedding must’ve been nice in this weather?” I ventured, as my opener.
The wedding I wasn’t invited to.
She smiled, didn’t stiffen. She hadn’t caught on yet.
“It was perfect,” she answered. And I didn’t know if she meant the weather, or the day. And if she meant the day, that meant it was perfect without me there.
A pang, but I smiled too and delved deeper.
“Wasn’t it weird being just you two?” I tried to make my voice all casual but I flaked on the “just”. Mum stiffened in her seat, wiggled about. She didn’t answer…not for a while. Just stared at the road like she hadn’t heard me. Then, after five minutes, she turned with a giant beaming smile, wearing it like a Band-Aid, and said, “Isn’t that iced tea just fantastic? I’m so addicted to it since I moved here.”
Like I hadn’t said anything, like I hadn’t asked anything. When the flake in the “just” was so obviously a tell that I needed to ask it, and needed an answer.
The iced tea curdled in my gut.
The road gnarled its way upwards and I stared out the window. I’d never known California was so…barren. There were no trees or grass, just expanses of red dusty plains either side of the freeway, punctuated only by the odd billboard advertising Jesus. As we climbed higher into the mountains, the occasional burst of green sneaked its way into the desert, until the dust disappeared and pine trees sprouted on each side of the road.
“We’re almost there.” Mum’s eyes didn’t stray from the swerves in the road. “If you carry on straight you get to Lake Tahoe, which is just gorgeous. We’re on a different lake. Still beautiful though.”
My stomach twisted and dived with each bump in the tarmac. I was getting nervous. I hadn’t given a huge amount of thought to camp, and fellow campers, or the art class I was supposed to be teaching, or anything really. Well, anything that wasn’t backlit fantasies of Mum and me bonding together on a mountain and her promising to come home or something. I hated meeting new people. When I’m nervous I’m always…snappy with people and come across as rude, or superior… Well that’s what people tell me. Lottie and Evie were the first people I’d met who liked me instantly, rather than having to warm up to me.
Even worse, I’d have to see Bumface Kevin again, and live with him. I’d not seen him since I’d screamed at him, saying he’d ruined my life. He took Mum away on a plane two days later. I bet not inviting me to the wedding was payback for that. Not that she’d tell me… Not even if I asked.
Mum indicated and we turned into this weenie gap in the trees. We passed a weathered sign: Welcome to Mountain Hideaway Camp. My guts clumped together like a wodge of chewing gum.
“We’re home,” Mum said, as we rumbled over a speed bump. I was almost too busy freaking out to notice she’d called it “home”.
We hummed past tiny pathways leading into the dense woods and passed wooden signs pointing towards nightmare scenarios like paintball and water sports. I’d forgotten camp included hells such as these. Forgotten, or deliberately pushed it from my brain.
“You’re about to get your first glimpse of the water.”
I spotted it glittering between the pine trees and then we emerged from the canopy and saw it in all its lakey glory.
Even I could see it was beautiful. The water was so blue it was like the whole lake was made out of denim. Each ripple glistened golden as the huge honking sun hit the water. A black, weathered pier cut the water in two. It was just stunning… Well, if you ignored the banana boat, the assortment of jet skis floating about, and a few other “fun” instruments that looked like my worst nightmare realized.
“It’s beautiful,” I admitted, reluctantly. For a split second, I could see why she’d left grey old England behind.
We turned away from the lake and drove up a well-built road, passing a collection of giant huts. “The rec hall, the medic cabin,” Mum explained. The road turned to dust again and narrowed. We stopped at the end. Bumface Kevin stood there grinning outside a cabin, and waving. I slouched lower in my seat. Then realized I should probably make an effort for Mum’s sake, so I corrected myself.
He opened my car door before we’d even stopped properly.
“Amber, you made it!” He leaned in and hugged me, enveloping me with his earthy piney stench. I stiffened.
“Hi, Kevin.” I was proud for omitting the “Bumface”.
He let go and stepped out of the truck.
“Your mom has been so excited about you coming, and so have I.”
He was lying – he must be lying. He was such a fake! He tried to come across all caring-carington, I look after ickle children, and I have a counselling qualification, and I look after recovering whatnots – when really he was all I poach recovering whatnots from their families and move them abroad. I concentrated on unbuckling my seatbelt and jumped as delicately as I could down from the truck.
“Wow, you’ve grown. I didn’t even think that was possible.”
Must. Resist. The. Urge. To. Pull. A. Face.
He looked just the same. Ginger too, which annoyed me, as I didn’t want anyone to think he was my dad. Messy stubble. Hair too long for someone his age.
“She’s five eleven now, aren’t you, Amber? Just like your mom,” Mum said, and hugged Kevin harder than she’d hugged me at the airport…
“Shall we show you the cabin then? You’re getting the VIP treatment staying with us. The other counsellors have to bunk up and sleep with the kids. They’re all having a fire by the lake this evening. You should go… After we’ve finished catching up with you of course.”
Mum had already explained that I couldn’t do certain things for legal reasons, like not being responsible for the children in their dorms, as I was under eighteen. I also wasn’t allowed to be left alone in charge of them, which was just fine with me.
Kevin picked up my case and carried it down a small path lined with daisies. “Home sweet home,” he said, as he opened the door to the cabin. All smug and proud of himself. There was nothing I could do but follow him and Mum into their love shack.
It was admittedly cosy inside. Wide glass windows looked out onto the forest and the walls were made of corkboard. Vases of wild forest flowers stood on most available surfaces. I wondered if Bumface Kevin had arranged them, as I’d never seen Mum put anything in a vase my whole life.
“Living room,” Kevin gestured towards the sofa. “Kitchen. Our bedroom is through there.” He pointed to a door past the bathroom.
Our bedroom? They shared a bed and bedroom. I mean, I know that’s totally obvious but it still felt so wrong. I distracted myself by looking for a photo of me in the house. I couldn’t see one. There were at least eight of Mum and Kevin – boating in a raft, in front of the Hollywood Sign, in front of a campfire and surrounded by grinning campers. And, in a gold gilt frame, was their wedding photo. Just the two of them – Mum wearing a light yellow dress, clutching Kevin’s hand in front of some lake somewhere. She’d emailed it over two weeks after she’d left, without even an apology for not asking me to come. I picked up the photo and put it down quickly. She’d never looked happier. No Amber in a frame though. I felt like crying.
Mum took my hand and led me past the kitchen. “Your room is through here.”
She pushed open a door to reveal a box room covered with flouncy flowered wallpaper. “It’s pretty small, but I promise this is luxury stuff for camp.”