Lighting the Flames (10 page)

“
Now
that
is some dessert right
there.
”
Jeremy
’
s smile widened as he counted the brownies in front of
him.

“
Excellent teamwork. Well played, folks.
”
The campers bowed to
the judge and the king and went back to their respective tables,
giving each other high fives on way. Then the room fell quiet
again, the sounds of cutting, eating, and quiet whispering the only
disturbance in the air.

“
Darn it,
”
Gen said as she finished the last of her
brownie.

“
What?
”

“
Still hungry.
”

Jeremy moved his plate
so she could reach it.
“
For you, my
lady.
”

Gen smiled, then said
in a voice that only reached between them,
“
I have something for
you, too.
”
She reached inside her fleece pullover and pulled out a dry
pair of gloves from under her shirt.
“
Here.
”

Jeremy took them from
her.
“
Holy sundaes, these are still warm.
”
His cheeks turned
dark red as he felt the fabric inside and out.

“
I
put them in the dryer before I came down to
lunch.
”

“
Oh,
you are the best. Now your team gets
all
the points, Gen.
Thank you.
”

“
I
’
m
on your
team
, Jer.
”

“
Darn right you are,
”
he said with a smile she
hadn
’
t seen before, a smile that seemed entirely built out of
everything between them that remained unspoken. Then he looked
away, stood up and cupped his hands over his
mouth.

“
Color war teams! Once you have feasted, return to your
cabins for rest hour. Then we get our sleds on, and ride the snow
to victory!
”

The cheers of a handful of families filled the
dining hall the same way that 350 campers and staff would during
the summer. Gen finished her tea as everyone went from one warm
building to several others for an hour of quiet.

Jeremy finished his dessert, eating every bit of the
massive platter of brownies and ice cream. Gen watched him over the
rim of her thermos as he ate, thinking about his smile.

She knew from last
year what his lips felt like, what it had been like to kiss him.
But a lot had changed since then, and so much was different, it
felt like there were distances between them she
didn
’
t know how to cross. He was the same large, loud,
effortlessly funny Jeremy she
’
d always known. But
there was something else, too, a sort of quiet stillness that took
the place of his almost constant need to fidget and
move.

And the beard, she
thought as he wiped his face with a napkin. She
’
d almost not
recognized him when she
’
d arrived at Meira.
She couldn
’
t remember everything about the fiery softness of his mouth
on hers, but she couldn
’
t forget it, either.
What would it be like to kiss him now? Would it be the
same?

Her face turned red
and then flushed even more when he stood up and pulled on the
gloves she
’
d brought to him. They
’
d been hidden beneath
her shirt, snug against her stomach, and now they covered his
hands. But when he helped her on with her own coat and reached out
toward her, she put her gloved hand in his and followed him out the
door to plan more adventures.

Chapter
Four

Thursday, December
18, 2014
—
27 Kislev 5775

Third night of Hanukkah

The rest of the day
passed in a series of white and blue blurs. There were sledding
races and obstacle courses built out of snow and sports equipment,
with bridges to cross, tunnels to wiggle through, and flags to
collect. Both teams finished the day exhausted, but very happy. The
chatter of the room as they gathered for dinner
—
unfortunately not a
silent meal
—
was more electric and exciting than it had been the night
before. Color war made camp more exciting during the summer, and it
seemed to have the same effect during the winter, too.

They
’
d lit the candles for
Hanukkah before dinner, saying the blessings together as a group.
The first night the group had been quiet and unsure, but that
night, as they lit the three candles, it had been difficult to keep
everyone quiet. The happiness and energy were so palpable, the
flames had danced on the myriad air currents from everyone talking,
laughing, and moving closer together.

So far, so
good
, Genevieve thought to
herself. But now the hard part began
—
setting up one long
competition that involved everyone and took up enough hours in the
day that she and Jeremy wouldn
’
t need to create
additional activities to fill the time before Shabbat prep
began.

Jeremy had a few ideas, but in the end, hers had
been better. It would be worth the effort, she thought as she
followed Jeremy through the late-evening darkness, even if it was
going to take nearly the same amount of hours to set up as it would
to complete.

And even if Jeremy argued with her the whole time
they were working.

“
No,
listen. What if we dye some of the talcum powder
blue?
”
Jeremy stopped suddenly in the knee-deep snow and prevented
her from going around him. She latched onto his parka to keep from
falling, and he grabbed her arms. They were trying to keep their
tracks as minimal as possible, and if she fell down, that would
leave a big, person-sized clue as to where they
’
d
been.

“
Let
it go, dude.
”

“
But, blue! We could make them blue!
”

“
No
way. The powder wouldn
’
t dry in time. It
would be like a paintball battle.
”

Jeremy
’
s head lifted, his eyes widened, and his smile grew
wider.

“
No.
”

He harrumphed loudly,
but turned and started marching forward again. He pulled a camp mug
he
’
d
taken from the kitchen out of his backpack and stashed it under the
bark of a fallen tree. Gen wrote down the GPS coordinates on the
device she held. Then they stomped through the snow to another
potential hiding spot. Gen looked up, moving her head to see more
of the stars peeking from behind the dark branches that tried to
hide the endless sky.

“
I
hope we finish in time, before the snow starts up
again,
”
she said, trying to change the subject.

“
Me,
too. The sky is so clear right now. It doesn
’
t look like a
storm
’
s coming at all, despite what Scott said this
morning.
”

After dropping a coil
of rope hooked to four carabiners in a hollow tree stump and
tucking a spool of neon-green lanyard behind a branch, they marched
farther through the forest, Gen close on Jeremy
’
s heels as they
headed toward the horse paddock. The sky was barely lit by the
moon, and they didn
’
t want to use flashlights. Their plan was to
surprise the color war teams with a camp-wide, GPS-enabled
scavenger hunt that should take everyone a couple of hours to
complete.
Not only would it
fill time and make everyone, parents and children alike, very
tired, but it would show off the GPS equipment that had been
donated to Meira and highlight the science programming Scott wanted
to develop. Summer sleep-away camps competed with summer learning
programs, as Scott had reminded them as he
’
d handed them each a
new handheld GPS unit. Programming that included science and
technology made summer camp a more attractive option.

The GPS was so new, there was still a film of
plastic on the screen. Gen clutched hers tightly in her hand,
afraid of dropping it in the snow and losing it until spring thaw.
Scott would kill her.

When
they
’
d left their cabin, everything was so dark, Gen was
convinced Jeremy would take four steps away from her and disappear
in to the darkness. Now that her eyes had adjusted, the inky
blackness had changed into a landscape absent of any color, but it
was a landscape she could see. She hadn
’
t fallen down.
Yet.

When they reached the edge of the field that held
horses in the summer, Jeremy stopped for a moment and rested his
arms on the fence, his face looking straight up to the sky.

The stars looked like fragments of glass floating on
navy-blue ink, shimmering as wisps of clouds slid above them on the
frozen wind. Gen shivered, and Jeremy pulled her closer to him,
stepping sideways so his arms were bracketed around her and his
body blocked the bite of the air. She faced away from him, but
their faces were close, both of their heads tipped way back to try
to see the sky all at once.

“
I
miss the stars when I
’
m at home,
”
Jeremy said quietly.
“
It
’
s a lot harder to see them with all the lights from the
city. It
’
s not like the sky here.
”

Gen shook her head. There were very few things at
camp that could be reproduced elsewhere.

He glanced at her,
then looked up again before he spoke to her.
“
What?
”

“
What, what?
”

“
You
’
re frowning.
”

“
I
am? I didn
’
t mean to.
”

Jeremy looked at her
again and raised one brow, but he didn
’
t press her. He
waited, but she couldn
’
t
find the words to explain how she felt, how she
didn
’
t want the camp sky to be the only sky that they saw
together.
She was still
watching him, trying to think of the right thing to say when he
looked back up at the stars. Then she spoke fast, without
thinking.

“
Remember two summers ago, when we were hiking to the
waterfall at night?
”

He nodded but
didn
’
t look down at her.

“
And
you said that the stars were dead, and the light that was just
reaching us was from stars that burned out millions of years
ago?
”

That made him look at
her.
“
Yeah, I remember.
”

“
That
’
s not
…
that
’
s not actually
true.
”

“
Really?
”
He shifted back away from her a fraction so he could
see her. She had his full attention, and it made heat run through
her, warming her from the inside out. He was better than any glove
warmer she could buy.

“
Yeah. When I was in Iceland, at the school where I stayed,
there were a bunch of astronomy students. I called them the star
dudes.
”

“
Star dudes?
”

“
Yeah, a dozen or so. They were doing research on polar
astronomy or something. Anyway, one of them told me that most facts
about stars posted online aren
’
t true, and that was
one of them. I didn
’
t quite fully understand it, but the short
version is, the stars we see with our eyes, without telescopes,
they aren
’
t dead.
”

Jeremy
’
s eyebrows dropped a bit, and he moved closer,
listening to her. No one listened like him. He paid attention with
his whole body, watching and absorbing. He wasn
’
t waiting for his
turn to talk. He was waiting to understand everything she said,
like she was the center of his orbit in that moment.