Page 133 of Until Next Summer

My whole body tenses, but before I can speak or move, Cooper steps between me and the bulldozer, like he’s going to face it down on my behalf.

“Wait,” I plead, “you can’t just—”

“STOP!”

I glance up to see Jessie running toward us, her braids flying behind her, waving a piece of paper wildly in the air.

thirty-four

Jessie

My heart is in my throat as I race across the lawn, taking in the sight: Cooper and Hillary, shoulder to shoulder, facing down the hulking yellow bulldozer heading their way. A group of men, including Jack Valentine, turn to look in my direction. Mary Valentine, standing from her seat on the porch of the dining hall as I run past.

“STOP!” I yell, waving the injunction. “You don’t have the right to do any construction or demolition!”

By the time I reach the group, I’m out of breath. I hand the paper directly to Jack Valentine.

The whole process took longer than expected—we waited an agonizing forty minutes before the judge arrived. I’d expected an old white man in a suit, but instead it was a thirtysomething Black woman in leggings and a T-shirt, apologizing profusely because her newborn son had had a terrible night and she’d overslept. She read through the will, instructed her secretary to type up an injunction, and signed it with a flourish. She sent us on our way with a firm “Good luck.”

We’d driven back as quickly as possible—Luke driving because I was too nervous. I kept imagining the buildings Ilove being crushed to the ground, erased because I was a few minutes late.

But everything seems to be intact, and Luke catches up to me as Jack finishes reading the injunction.

When he looks up, his face is so red I think his head might explode. “You can’t just—just steal this out from under me!”

“I’m not stealing anything,” I say. “As I told you before, we created a business plan to purchase the camp as a co-op—”

“This is ridiculous!” he shouts, getting in my face. He grips my arm, squeezing it. “You and your little—”

“Hey!” Luke shouts, coming up behind me. “Back the fuck off.”

Jack releases my arm and stumbles back a step.

“You touch her again and I’ll break your hand,” Luke says, his voice ice-cold. He’s vibrating with fury, reminding me of the time he chewed out that cabin of guys for screwing with the kayaks.

Jack looks terrified, and I’m grateful that Luke’s on my side. I may be a tall, strong, capable woman, but it feelswonderfulto have someone rush in to protect me like that.

“You were saying?” Luke says to me.

“Thanks,” I say, and face Jack again. “We have the money raised to buy you both out, unless you want to still be involved. Either way, Camp Chickawah isn’t going anywhere.”

“I could take you to court for this,” Jack says, and the man next to him—the buyer and property developer—nods.

“Go ahead,” I say, silently praying that Hillary’s dad is right, that there’s nothing Jack can do to sell CampChickawah without my blessing. “But you’re not starting the demolition today, I can tell you that much.”

“And I’m not sure you’ll have much of a leg to stand on in court,” a timid voice says behind me.

Everyone turns; Mary Valentine is a few feet away from the group, teetering slightly on her feet.

Her brother shoots her a glare. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m willing to testify that our parents intended for Jessie to be considered as a beneficiary,” she says, and meets her brother’s eyes dead on.

Jack’s eyes bulge. “You wouldn’t.”

“It’s what Mom and Dad wanted, Jack,” she says, her voice even softer now.

Jack glares at her, then turns to the buyer. “Everything is in order, I promise—”

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