Page 76 of The Ripple Effect

He looks like everything: Love and sex and kindness and belonging, strength and generosity and fun. Our past, our present, and all the painful things in between that give this moment a beauty so piercing I may cry.

He’s looking at me like I’m all those things, too.

I’m in love with him.

Maybe I’ve been in love with him since the moment he pulled me off the ground and asked if I was all right on a day when I really wasn’t.

I put my arms around his neck and my lips on his and don’t take them off until I’m flirting with the idea of abandoning the guests for a special tandem canoe ride.

“I’m glad we waited,” I whisper. “I’m glad you waited for me.”

“It was a long wait,” he says back. “But worth it. For you.”

I kiss him again, a true peck this time. “We shouldn’t court distraction until lights-out. I came down to talk about Petra and Trevor.”

“Ah, that’s a shame,” he says, after I’ve filled him in on the relationship theater. “But it doesn’t have to be a failure. They still learned something about themselves. And canoeing.”

I love him for being idealistic, and I’m damn glad he has me to be hardheaded. “You and I can appreciate that, but they might need some time to get there. For now, I don’t want them to leave with a bad taste in their mouths.”

He makes a considering sound. It’s low and slow, a lot like the sound he makes when he’s above me, on his elbows. I wonder how quiet we can be in the much smaller campsite we’re in tonight. Or in a boat.

“They could be worried about damaging their friendship. Especially because they’re colleagues. We could focus on that angle,” Lyle muses. “Tomorrow, we can each debrief one of them individually. See if we can help them move forward.”

“I haven’t done anything like that before,” I say, uncertain. “I’ve barely debriefed with the group.”

“I have some thoughts in my field journal. You can read while I heat the evening wash water. We can work up a strategy by breakfast.”

We walk past the firepit on our way to the tents. I notice Petra sitting silently at the edge of the conversation. Her hands are pinned between her thighs, her shoulders rounded and tense.

I hope Lyle has a miracle in that journal.

I’m reaching for the zipper of our tent when Petra skids up to us.

“Hey! Hey, here you are!” She’s breathless, eyes wide.

My mind immediately starts cataloguing dark possibilities. “What’s wrong? Is someone hurt?”

She laughs brightly. “No! Oh my god, sorry, nothing like that. We need you two for a sing-along.”

I press my hand to my racing heart, relieved. “We’ll be there in a minute.”

“No!” Petra blurts. “I mean, can you come now? We have something planned. Um, a song. A very special song we wrote, and we need you both there.”

“Is this a prank on me and Lyle?”

“Nooooo,” she says, too nervous for it to be anything else. Whatever—I’m up for it. If they want to dump a barrel of lake water over our heads, I’m willing to stand there and look honored. It’s got an old-fashioned summer camp flavor that will make a lot of memories for everyone.

“All right. Let’s hear this song.” I elbow Lyle.

“Right on. Let me grab something real quick.”

“Don’t go in there,” Petra yelps, raising a hand in astopgesture. “I mean, if you don’t come right now the surprise will be ruined.”

There’s…somethingin her voice.

I look hard at Petra the way I’ve failed to until now. She forces a wobbly smile, while Lyle’s wearing a deepening frown.

This doesn’t feel like a prank anymore.

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