Emma. So when he asked me over, I jumped at the chance. Even if we had to spend the time listening for his parents, at least we would be together without his little girlfriend. We needed it so much, or at least I felt like we did. Before his revelation of telling me he loved me, I had started to feel distanced from him, and I hated it. When I got to Jamie’s house early that afternoon, I was rather confused to find him trying to haul the inflatable mattress up the tree house ladder.
“What are you—?” I started, but he stopped me almost at once by jumping down from where he was perched halfway up the ladder, landing with a thud right in front of me.
“Help me get this up there,” he said, out of breath from the exertion. I climbed the ladder and threw my backpack of clothes into a corner as I climbed up through the trapdoor. Then, lying flat on the floor, I reached down through the open door and grabbed the end of the mattress Jamie was proffering from his position near the bottom of the ladder. Being exceedingly careful not to snag it on anything, I pulled the deflated mattress up through the door. Next, he handed me the pump and then disappeared into the house while I laid the mattress and the pump near the wall.
Then I realized that other items from Jamie’s room had somehow found their way into the tree house. His fan stood near one of the open windows, and his radio was on top of a crate. Again, I wondered what the hell was going on. Are we sleeping up here, or is this just to make things more comfortable when we spend time here? Whatever the reason, I was thankful for the fan, because even that early in June, the heat in the tree house was staggering.
“Brian!” Jamie called up from under the window. I looked out to see him holding a long extension cord. “Catch!” He laughed and tossed one end up toward the window. It took three tries before I finally caught the damn thing and pulled it through into the tree house. Still chuckling at my abysmal attempts, he climbed up and closed the trapdoor behind him. He was in better spirits than I had seen him in a while. He flopped down on the floor next to where I was sitting, leaned over, and kissed me hello. When he pulled away, a brilliant smile lit up his face.
“I talked Mama into letting us camp out in the tree house whenever you stay over this summer,” he said, still slightly out of breath. “At first, I didn’t think she’d go for it because she thought we’d sneak girls up here.” He chortled and said, “As if,” and then continued, “I promised her there wouldn’t be any girls, and then told her how much I really missed camping as a family. We haven’t gone in forever because her back is so bad. Then I brought up how we should get use out of the tree house before Daddy tears it down. In the end, she said it would be okay.”
I couldn’t believe it. We would be alone, really alone.
I practically tackled him in a hug.
“Okay, let’s get this stuff set up before supper,” he said, standing hunched over in the low space. Jamie laid out two open sleeping bags, and we spread the mattress on top of them and inflated it. Then, while I put the bedding on the mattress, Jamie plugged in the fan and radio. On another crate, he emptied the contents of his school bag: chips, sodas, and a few cupcakes. We had the perfect clubhouse, and it was all ours. It almost felt like we were moving into our own little place.
Everything was set up and ready in time for supper, and it was a beautiful night to sit outside and eat. Mr. Mayfield grilled some burgers while Mrs. Mayfield laid out potato salad, coleslaw, corn on the cob, and watermelon slices on the patio table outside their back door. Jamie must have done quite a number on his mama for her to go all out like that.
We spent the evening sitting on the stylish but comfortable patio chairs, relaxing and talking with Jamie’s parents. We didn’t want to seem too eager to get up in the tree house, so
“What are you—?” I started, but he stopped me almost at once by jumping down from where he was perched halfway up the ladder, landing with a thud right in front of me.
“Help me get this up there,” he said, out of breath from the exertion. I climbed the ladder and threw my backpack of clothes into a corner as I climbed up through the trapdoor. Then, lying flat on the floor, I reached down through the open door and grabbed the end of the mattress Jamie was proffering from his position near the bottom of the ladder. Being exceedingly careful not to snag it on anything, I pulled the deflated mattress up through the door. Next, he handed me the pump and then disappeared into the house while I laid the mattress and the pump near the wall.
Then I realized that other items from Jamie’s room had somehow found their way into the tree house. His fan stood near one of the open windows, and his radio was on top of a crate. Again, I wondered what the hell was going on. Are we sleeping up here, or is this just to make things more comfortable when we spend time here? Whatever the reason, I was thankful for the fan, because even that early in June, the heat in the tree house was staggering.
“Brian!” Jamie called up from under the window. I looked out to see him holding a long extension cord. “Catch!” He laughed and tossed one end up toward the window. It took three tries before I finally caught the damn thing and pulled it through into the tree house. Still chuckling at my abysmal attempts, he climbed up and closed the trapdoor behind him. He was in better spirits than I had seen him in a while. He flopped down on the floor next to where I was sitting, leaned over, and kissed me hello. When he pulled away, a brilliant smile lit up his face.
“I talked Mama into letting us camp out in the tree house whenever you stay over this summer,” he said, still slightly out of breath. “At first, I didn’t think she’d go for it because she thought we’d sneak girls up here.” He chortled and said, “As if,” and then continued, “I promised her there wouldn’t be any girls, and then told her how much I really missed camping as a family. We haven’t gone in forever because her back is so bad. Then I brought up how we should get use out of the tree house before Daddy tears it down. In the end, she said it would be okay.”
I couldn’t believe it. We would be alone, really alone.
I practically tackled him in a hug.
“Okay, let’s get this stuff set up before supper,” he said, standing hunched over in the low space. Jamie laid out two open sleeping bags, and we spread the mattress on top of them and inflated it. Then, while I put the bedding on the mattress, Jamie plugged in the fan and radio. On another crate, he emptied the contents of his school bag: chips, sodas, and a few cupcakes. We had the perfect clubhouse, and it was all ours. It almost felt like we were moving into our own little place.
Everything was set up and ready in time for supper, and it was a beautiful night to sit outside and eat. Mr. Mayfield grilled some burgers while Mrs. Mayfield laid out potato salad, coleslaw, corn on the cob, and watermelon slices on the patio table outside their back door. Jamie must have done quite a number on his mama for her to go all out like that.
We spent the evening sitting on the stylish but comfortable patio chairs, relaxing and talking with Jamie’s parents. We didn’t want to seem too eager to get up in the tree house, so
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