“And that’s all it takes to hold the trailer secure?” She hated the idea of her beautiful trailer breaking free of the pickup and careening over a cliff.
“Well, if you were towing a distance you’d want to use these safety chains.” He pointed to a couple of rusty chains draped beneath the trailer. Then he showed her how to connect the lights to the pickup. “You obviously don’t need them now, but if you were on a road, you have to hook ’em up.”
“And what do they do exactly?”
“They’re synchronized with your pickup. You use your turn signal and the trailer does too.”
“Cool.” She nodded.
“I’ll check ’em out for you when you pull out. Test the signals and brake lights.”
“So that’s it? Ready to roll?”
“Not yet.” Grandpa knelt down, pointing beneath the trailer. “First you gotta take out those stabilizing jacks.”
“Huh?”
Grandpa pointed out some metal things beneath the trailer. “You gotta get a little dirty.”
“That’s okay.”
“Get down there, lay on your side, then crank those handles counterclockwise to lower them.”
“Okay.” She got down and tried. “I can’t seem to move them.”
“You probably need a little WD-40. I’ll be right back.”
As she lay on the ground beneath her trailer, she wondered if she’d bitten off more than she could chew. It was one thing to make the trailer all cute and cozy, but would she ever be able to remember—or do—all this stuff and take it on the road? By herself?
“Here you go.” Grandpa bent down to hand her a spray can. “Just give ’em a good squirt.”
After a few squirts, she was finally able to get the jacks lowered. “What do I do with them?”
“For now just put ’em in the back of your pickup. There’s a hold that Jack would keep ’em in.” He pointed to a small exterior door. “That’s what the little brass key on your trailer key ring is for.”
“Oh.” She nodded. “Good to know. So, are we ready to do this?”
“As soon as we check your lights.” He nodded to the cab. “Go ahead.”
“Anything I should know before I start the engine?”
“Nah. Just crank ’er up. We’ll check the lights and then I’ll ride over to the pond with you.”
“Okay.” She felt a little uneasy as she started the engine, but she followed Grandpa’s instructions. He confirmed the lights worked fine, then got into the passenger’s seat.
“So far so good.” Grandpa nodded, pointing to the dirt road. “Now just head that way. Circle around and then we’ll back her up so that your door will open out toward the pond.”
“Sounds good.” Dillon tried to look more confident as she drove over the bumpy road.
“I hope you battened down the hatches in your trailer.”
“Huh?” She slowed down.
“Well, everything that’s loose inside will bounce around and—”
“Oh no.” She stepped on the brakes. “I didn’t batten down anything.”
“Oh . . . well, you might want to check.”
She put the pickup into park and raced around to see that the interior of her sweet, tidy trailer was now a mess. “Oh no.” She started to pick up the pieces, relieved to see that nothing appeared broken. She carefully stowed the loose things here and there, hoping they would stay put until she parked it again.
“How was it?” Grandpa asked as she got back in.
“Not great, but nothing broke. And I suppose it was a good lesson. Before I tow the trailer, I must batten down the hatches.” She put the pickup into gear, wondering how she’d manage to remember all these things. Of course, she would write them in her handy notebook, but would that be enough?
She finally looped around and, after a couple of tries, got the pickup and trailer positioned the way Grandpa had recommended. “Now I’ll get out and direct you,” he told her. “Just keep your eyes on me and back ’er up. It’s pretty tight in there, but I’m sure the trailer will fit.”
She waited for Grandpa to get into place and motion her. Then she began to back it up. When he pointed to turn right, she did as told, but he held up his hands, yelling to stop. “Not like that,” he explained. “The steering wheel is opposite of the trailer.”
“Oh.” She nodded, like she understood. “Okay.”
But when she tried again, it quickly happened again. And Grandpa explained again, telling her to put her hand on the bottom of the steering wheel to help. But it didn’t help and this time she actually bumped her trailer into an aspen tree.
Grandpa gave her another quick lesson and pep talk, but something in her brain just refused to listen. When he said turn right, she wanted to turn the pickup right. And he kept yelling “No!”
Finally, on the verge of tears, she got out, begging him to back it up for her. And he climbed in and managed to do it—just like that. “See, it’s easy,” he said as he hopped out. “You just need to remember that left is right and right is left when you’re backing up a trailer.”
“Right.” She went around to check where she’d bumped the aspen. The paint was slightly scuffed, but she figured she could touch it up.
“So, what d’ya think?” Grandpa gazed over the pond. “These aspens should keep you shady in the afternoon and you can watch the sun rise over the pond in the morning.”
She looked around and smiled. “It’s a beautiful place to camp, Grandpa. Thanks.” She wanted to add that she might never move her trailer from this spot—because of her concerns about backing up—but didn’t want to sound pathetic. “And thanks for helping me to get it over here. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“We’re not done yet,” he told her. “We still need to put the jacks in place or you’ll be bouncing around in there. But we’ll have to get some boards to put under the jacks, then round up hoses and extension cords.”
By the time they got the trailer all set up, Dillon was worn out—and filthy. In less than two hours, Chelsea would be here with a sundress to loan her, with the hope they were going to town to make a “splash.” But the only splash Dillon needed right now was a shower.
After getting cleaned up, Dillon returned to her new campsite in the aspens. Feeling refreshed and energetic, she decided to set up her outdoor room. She set out the chairs and tables and lanterns and other cute campy things. And even though the sun was still out, she hung her string of camp lights. She even picked a fresh bouquet of flowers and, after putting them in an old mason jar, set them on the table. Finally, she sat down. Perfect. Absolutely perfect!
As she sat there soaking in the sweet ambiance of her new digs and imagining how charming it would look in the evening with the lights and lanterns lit, she was tempted to back out on the dance and just stay put. After all, she knew how tonight would go. Brandon would monopolize her time at the dance and, if Jordan was there, he would probably keep a distance. And because Dillon had agreed to ride with Chelsea, there’d be no sneaking out early. She was tempted to call Chelsea and make an excuse. She could claim she was worn out . . . and on some levels she was tired. But, as badly as she wanted to remain home, she didn’t want to let her friend down.