Chapter Sixteen
Penn
It was hard to admit that the pace Corsica set was impressive. I had forgotten that she ran every morning, usually along the beach, and that underneath her pretty sundresses was a fit, athletic body. She marched along the trail with fiery determination. There was nothing to do but focus on the hike and enjoy the view.
Corsica had switched out her breezy sundress for a pair of tailored, khaki shorts and a sky-blue tank top. Every time I glanced over the curve of her back, I thought the shirt was the color of her eyes. After the silly thought reoccurred a few times, I wished the incline was more punishing. I was having trouble keeping my mind on our trip.
The biggest problem was that I couldn't believe we were out there. I kept thinking Corsica must be a daydream in front of me. I was still amazed and pleased that this had been her idea.
"Couldn't find a bigger pack?" I asked.
Corsica tossed a look over her shoulder. "It's the same size as your pack."
"Except mine is full of necessities like a frying pan and food. How many dresses, skirts, and outfits did you pack?"
She stopped on the trail and spun around to face me. "I've got the coffee grounds and press, plus half the water. What, is your pack too heavy? Do you need me to take on more?"
I laughed and brushed a wavy curl out of her face. "No. I'm just teasing you."
Corsica swatted my hand away. "Why? You can't think of anything better to say?"
I shoved her along the trail and was glad when she turned back around. It was annoying how quickly she saw through me. What was I supposed to talk about? How beautiful the day was or how the sound of the stream far below us was slowly lulling me into a happy stupor?
I could have told her how happy I was to be out with her and how my heart tripped every time I thought about having her all to myself for days.
"Just so you know," I said, "I'm not going to dress for dinner. I left my suit and tie at home."
Corsica snorted. "That's your loss. Don't you know how great it feels to dress for dinner?"
I caught her hand and pointed across the stream. "There's a good spot to camp. How about I set us up and then you can explain how a stuffy, snobby ritual can feel good."
By the time I was done with the tent, Corsica had the fire pit dug and ringed with large rocks. She'd even gathered a few nice logs and a decent pile of kindling. She was laying out the cooking stuff when I finished securing the rain flap.
"See? What's the point of dressing for dinner when there's only going to be one course? I hope you like roasted veggies and hot dogs," I said.
"And pasta," Corsica said. She unearthed a cooking pot and box of macaroni from her pack. "And wine. Your father snuck it in before we left."
I pulled over a log and sat down. "So you're really going to make me dress for dinner?"
Corsica brushed back her hair and put her hands on her hips. "What's so bad about it? Everyone takes a few minutes to relax, get cleaned up. I think changing clothes and freshening up sets the whole tone for the evening."
She held out the cooking pot. "I'll start the fire while you filter some stream water. Once the pot's set to boil, we'll retire to our separate quarters and dress for dinner."
I took the pot. "Separate quarters?"
"The stream side of the tent is yours and the hill side is mine. No talking, no teasing. I'll see you in ten minutes or so." After lighting the fire, Corsica rummaged through her pack, pulled out a black, cotton dress and her brush, and then disappeared behind her side of the tent.
I filled up the water filter and splashed cold water on my face. After scrubbing off the sweat and putting on a clean shirt, I almost had to admit that she was on to something. Then I saw her and knew I had to admit she was right.
Corsica's hair was loose and soft, brushed to a glossy shine. She'd worn it in a braid all day but now let it spill over her shoulders. The black dress was soft, billowing and clinging to her tight form in turns.
I stood up and offered her my log. "My lady," I bowed.
Her lips quirked up. "Thank you, kind sir. So, don't you feel better?"
The peace of the burbling stream and the idle call of the songbirds had lulled me into contentment. My body was tired from the long hike, but in a loose and relaxed way. I felt calm and happy, but I couldn't admit all of that to her. "I always feel better when I'm out camping. That's why I started the business I did."
Corsica chopped up the vegetables while I uncorked the wine. "So you're an entrepreneur," she said.
I didn't like the way she said the word, like I was just some rich boy playing at a job. "I prefer innovator. I spend most of my time on camping trips like this so I have firsthand knowledge of how my equipment works and what improvements can be made."
She tossed the vegetables in the frying pan with a slosh of olive oil. "Are you one of those people who doesn't think inspiration can strike in the office?"
I laughed and dropped down to sit beside her. "God, how do you always call me out on everything? So I've built up the perfect excuse to stay out of the office. I've found a job I love."
Corsica nudged me in the shoulder. "I like seeing you at work, out here. Makes me feel like I'm actually starting to get to know you."
"We might not know each other yet, but we know this." I caught her smile in a kiss.
There was a hunger between us that was far more important than dinner. Our passion ignited faster than the campfire.
While the water heated and the vegetables began to sizzle, I laid Corsica down on the soft moss. She skimmed her hands up to my shoulders and drew me down. Our mouths tasted and then devoured, our bodies consuming each other.
The rest of the night was a velvet blur of happiness. The food tasted all the better for us working up an appetite, and we were both so thirsty that the wine went down too easily. We laughed and lounged around the fire until late in the night, and then we tangled up together in the tent.
It was hard to unwind myself from Corsica in the morning. My mind kept diving back into dreams and fantasies of future camping trips. Corsica and I would explore all of Pinnacles and then adventure through Joshua Tree. We'd bring our children out before they could walk and sleep all snuggled together.
I slipped out of the tent, started the fire for coffee, and then got ready. I left Corsica a note telling her I was just over the crest. There was a rock face there where I needed to test out some new rock-climbing shoes.
Work was a good reality check, I told myself as I started up the sheer rock wall. It wasn't very high, but it jutted out, and I needed to concentrate to keep my footing as I clung to it and inched higher. The trial run of the shoes and the exercise was supposed to knock Corsica out of my thoughts, but it only doubled the effect she was having on me.
I couldn't think about anything else, just her. Corsica flashed through my thoughts, a mix of passionate memories and moony daydreams. Since when did I waste time thinking about a happy relationship? And children? I must have gotten drunk off the wine. I shook my head and tried to keep concentrating.
It was just a passing phase. I had been so stressed at the thought of losing my mother that I had tried to find someone to take her place. It was all just a change of pace and soon my life would get back to normal. I scrambled to the top of the rock wall, snarling as I wished Corsica was there to see me.
I didn't want a wife or a family. I didn't even want a serious relationship. On the crest, I turned to the breeze and took a deep breath.
All I had ever wanted was freedom. First, it was to get away from my father and his volatile moods. Then, it was to crawl out from under my father's shadow and the oppression expectations of my inheritance. After that, I wanted to be my own man and not let anyone try to press me into the mold they thought I should fit.
If it was up to Corsica, I'd be dressed in linen sports coats and having brunch at a country club.
That thought fortified me, but it was lost when I got back to camp. Corsica had the fire stoked, the coffee made, and she was rolling up the tent.
"There you are," she smiled. "I'll make us some scrambled eggs."
The only response I had prepared was a ranting defense of where I had been and why I had left her alone. So, I grunted and nodded towards the stream. I sluiced off the sweat from my climb and came back to the campfire bare-chested just to annoy her. Corsica only licked her lips and smiled at me again.
My body erased all thoughts of freedom as all I could think about was getting closer to her.
"We should get going. I have to get back to my mother's encampment," I said.
Corsica took the eggs off the fire and looked up at me with a frown. "Why? Is everything all right?"
"These shoes are not going to work at all. I've got to get the design team my notes before they present it to the shareholders. We can't sell them like this."
I ripped open my pack and yanked on my dirty shirt from the day before. "So, you got lucky. Our camping trip is getting cut short."
"I don't think that's lucky. Do you really need to go back to call them?" Corsica dished out the eggs and stirred hers without eating them.
"I have to teleconference. I have to show them what's wrong with these pieces of garbage." I tossed the shoes into the bushes, despite the fact that they had performed great. Not that I had noticed; I was too busy mooning over Corsica like a moron.
I almost changed my mind a dozen times as we hiked back. Corsica kept her mood light, despite my grumblings. She pointed out other viable campsites and talked about coming back on another trip. In the early afternoon, she stopped in a sweet-smelling meadow and pointed out that the grass was long enough to shade us.
"Are you sure you don't want to rest for a while," Corsica asked with a mischievous smile. "We could spread out a blanket here and no one would see us."
I shook my head and marched towards my mother's encampment as if a swarm of bees was behind me.
"Whoa, what are you doing back so soon?" The first person we saw when we arrived was my father. I almost didn't recognize him in wrinkled dress pants. His shirt was unbuttoned to his sternum and the sleeves rolled up.
"I had an idea about work, and it couldn't wait," I snarled. "Is my mother inside the yurt?"
Xavier nodded and then helped Corsica take off her pack. She smiled at him, despite her expression looking faded and confused. "We found the wine. It was wonderful; thank you."
It was irritating how clean the connection was on my mother's neglected laptop. I shouldn't have been surprised that Xavier had given her the latest and best technology, despite how she stacked in under mountains of books. The teleconference also went too quickly, and all of my nit-picking suggestions were immediately addressed. I closed the laptop and couldn't think of any other excuses to avoid Corsica.
She had showered and changed into a flowing sundress. Bright beads winked on her impractical sandals as she swung a Gucci purse over her shoulder and headed towards the spa.
"Glad to be back in civilization?" I snapped.
Corsica stopped, but didn't turn to look at me. "I would have happily stayed out on the trail for two more days like we planned. Now, I have an appointment."
"Let me guess. Pedicure? Or hot stone massage?"
She took a deep breath and let it out in a controlled sigh and then pinned me with a guileless look. "You seemed busy with work, and I didn't want to interrupt anymore. So, I made an appointment to talk to the resort manager about the glamping sites. I want to know more about it."
I snorted. "One night out there is driving you straight back to excess and luxury, huh?"
Corsica looked hurt. "I really enjoyed our night 'out there.' The whole 'dressing for dinner' gave me a great idea for ways to weave little luxuries into a rustic, outdoor experience. I was inspired."
My chest hurt, and I tried to loosen the knot there with a sigh. "I was inspired, too. I'm sorry that that meant we had to cut our trip short. I finished talking to work. Do you maybe want to go on a hike?"
Her eyes narrowed to blue lasers. "I told you. I have an appointment. I'm not just here at your beck and call, Penn. Besides, now that I didn't even interview at the Ritz-Carlton, I better start exploring other job opportunities."
I caught up to her again and grabbed her wrist. "You know, maybe we should work together on the whole glamping thing. I've got equipment designers that would drool over the possibilities of a luxe line."
Corsica yanked her wrist back. "You made it very clear this morning that your work is solo. I'm sure you have more equipment you need to test by yourself. Good luck with that."
She marched along the path with her delicate dress billowing, and my heart went with her. It was impossible. No matter what I did, Corsica was in or around every thought. I had tried ignoring our connection, and then I tried indulging it, but no matter what I did, I couldn't get her out of my system. Every muscle in my body ached to follow her, but I knew I would only make things worse.
Instead, I went back to the campfire outside my mother's yurt and brooded over the flames. I wanted Corsica, but what did that mean?
She didn't know what she wanted, and I think that was what irritated me the most about her. Corsica was lovely, talented, strong, and resourceful. I wanted her to find a job, a lifestyle, that was near me and that suited me, but it was impossible to figure out where she was headed.
The idea of glamping circled in my head as one place where our two worlds overlapped. If only I could get her settled there, it would be natural for our connection to continue.
So, I needed to get her a job. Then a place to stay. Then a reason to run into me every day, multiple times a day. Scratch that. It wasn't enough. I needed her with me. Maybe we'd find a place together.
My mind drifted into more daydreams about me and Corsica living together. There wasn't much sleep, but there was her singing, our spirited debates, our red-hot kisses, and those blue eyes of hers seeing right through me when I tried to be something I was not.
"Let go of me, Xavier. I don't care what you say." My mother's angry hiss slashed through my fantasies. "Let go of me right now or you'll be sorry."
"Alice, please, just listen to me. Why can't you ever listen to me?" My father's voice was rough with frustration.
It sent rapid waves of panic over my skin. Had he started drinking again? He gave Corsica a bottle of wine–maybe he was hiding more alcohol. Maybe he was blind drunk and looking for a fight again.
I stood up, every muscle clenched. I had been a scrawny and frightened boy the last time, but now Xavier wouldn't know what hit him. I charged around the corner of the yurt and skidded to a halt.
My mother had twisted her wrist free in a practiced, self-defense move. Then she caught Xavier's face with both hands and disarmed him with a kiss. My fists dropped as did my jaw. There was no fight, no violence, just a volcanic outpouring of passion that sent me back two steps.
I stepped on a twig, and it snapped like a gunshot.
"Oh! Penn, I was just coming to find you. We have something-"
Xavier interrupted her. "Alice, please, now is not the time."
"If you lay another hand on her, I will kill you," I snarled.
My mother's eyes flew open first with surprise and then with painful compassion. "Penn, darling, I'm safe. Your father is not hurting me. We were just arguing over when to tell you something important."
"Looks like it better be now," Xavier muttered.
I clenched my fists again. "What is it?"
Alice swept back her flowing sleeves and pressed her palms together. After a cleansing breath, she said, "Your father and I have reconnected over these past few years. This battle with cancer has burned away all our past mistakes and made us realize that we still love each other. We're getting married."
Cheers went up around the encampment, and I realized we had all been talking loud enough for everyone to hear. My mother looped her arm through my father's as they walked past me to meet their well-wishers around the campfire.
I stood where I was even after a bottle of champagne was unearthed and the toasts began. I couldn't help watching like a hawk as my father turned down a pour of the sparkling wine. It was impossible to admit that they looked like a happy couple. From the outside, minus the traumatic childhood, my mother looked radiant and my father looked like he was about to burst.
Alice stood up and thanked everyone. "Xavier and I discovered that, finally, after years of smoothing out all our rough edges, we are a perfect fit. It only took raising our wonderful son, facing our own demons, and battling our own stubbornness to bring us together. So, we are finally going to tie the knot!"
Everyone raised a glass. Every face was a smile, and every voice was a laugh. I stood there and couldn't believe what I was seeing. I knew it was the picture of happiness, but I couldn't believe it was real.
"Penn? Can we talk?" Xavier asked.
I stalked off behind the yurt and crossed my arms before facing him. "If you hurt her again, I will kill you."
Xavier nodded gravely. "I heard you the first time. Penn, I need you to know that I've been sober for years now. It hasn't been easy and I failed a few times, but now I really value this life, your mother and you, more than alcohol."
"And I'm supposed to just believe you?" I snapped. "You didn't even tell me she was sick."
"I know. That was wrong of me."
I tore my hands through my hair. "We wouldn't even be talking now if you hadn't thought she was on the edge of dying. She was on the edge of dying."
Xavier straightened up, his eyes bright. "And that's why this is happening now. I love her, Penn. I always have. I can't waste another minute drunk or separated from her. We want your blessing, but first, I have to ask your forgiveness. I need to make amends."
"That's it, isn't it?" I snapped. "You need me out of the way. That's how it's always been."
I couldn't face him, so I walked away.
Corsica ran after me and stopped me before I could hit the trail. "Penn! Isn't it wonderful?! Did you know? Is that why you decided to come back early?" She looped her arms around my neck and bounced while she hugged me. "I'm so excited for your parents. Your mother looks positively radiant."
She moved to look at me, but I held her tight. I couldn't let Corsica see my expression. Her whole body vibrated with joy. I wanted a moment, just a moment, to feel it through her.
I couldn't let myself be happy for my parents. There was a cold weight in my chest when I thought about it. But, Corsica was so ecstatic for two people she hardly knew, and I was jealous of how free she was with her emotions.
I buried my face in her hair. "I'm glad my mother is happy. She deserves it. She deserves all of this and more."
"Come back to the campfire," Corsica urged. "They're opening another bottle of champagne. Are you going to make a toast?"
I let her go and shook my head.
Corsica rolled her eyes. "You should make a toast. But, if you aren't, the least you should do is have some champagne and hear about what I found out about glamping."
"Wait, so you're not mad at me?"
Her smile went crooked, but did not diminish. "I was. I was going to be mad at you all evening, but don't you think this happy news kind of knocks that out of the way?"
I took her hands. "I shouldn't have cut off our camping trip because of work. That's something my father would do, and I want to make sure I never follow his example."
She squeezed my fingers. "Don't you think you'd feel better if you forgave your father?"
"I'm not sure he deserves it yet." I thought saying it proved that I was not unbendable.
"Maybe it shouldn't have anything to do with him," Corsica said. "I'm not mad at you anymore, and I've got to say the rest of the evening looks a lot better because of that. Why keep wasting all your energy like this? If you forgive him, then you can move on."
"You make it sound so easy," I sneered.
She brushed my unruly hair out of my face. "I just think it would be best for you. I'm on your side, Penn."
That did it. It felt like a dam was splitting open inside me. I couldn't name what I was feeling, so I turned it into anger.
"You're not really on my side," I snarled. "You're just like every other woman who’s had her head turned by the better things in life."
Corsica stepped back. "You reminded me of how much I love camping. You're right; I don't need a lot of extra things or fancy things-"
"You just need things," I said. The cracking sensation in my chest was blinding. "You'll say anything you can to make me believe we're perfect together. Well, guess what? No couple is perfect. My parents are the best illustration of that."
"They are not perfect, but they are a great couple," Corsica declared. "They've been through so many ups and downs and missed connections and neglected opportunities, but they still love each other, and they are still willing to try."
I shook off her grasp. "You'll really say anything, won't you? Just to make-believe in romance and lure some man down the aisle."
The words flowed out before I could stop them, and when I finally got myself under control, Corsica was gone.