“Makes no damn sense,” Glen said, petting the white one behind the ear as it curled against his leg where he was seated by the fire. That one was named Valentine, after the town in Arizona where they’d found him. “Traveling with a bunch of cats. Thank God, we finally trained them to do business outside. You don’t want to know what it was like having a litter box inside that thing,” he said, nodding toward their camper.
Emery and I shared a smile, one that warmed my cheeks more than the fire.
“They needed a home, and we had one to give. It’s just that simple,” Nora argued, her eyes on the other two cats who were curled up on the mat below the camper steps. They were both tabbies, striped with different shades of gray and black, and one of them had a bite mark shaped piece missing from its left ear. That one was named Toledo, and the other was Faith. I loved that they each got their names from where they came from, like those places were still a piece of who they were, no matter where they traveled. As much as I never wanted to set food in Mobile ever again, I knew the same was true for me.
“I just can’t say no to her,” Glen explained, eyes catching Nora’s affectionately. “Never could.”
“That’s why I married you,” she said, reaching out to squeeze his hand with her own. “That and your dashing good looks, of course.”
We were all gathered around their fire pit, each of us indulging in a large bowl of the amazing chili Nora had whipped up that made me feel like I was really experiencing fall for the first time in my life — a real fall. In a strange way, they felt like home, those two strangers. They were kind and gracious and entertaining.
They were also hilarious.
Emery and I learned quickly that Nora was a little eccentric, and Glen kept her grounded. The way the two of them played into each other was adorable, and I couldn’t help but ask them about every aspect of their lives. I wanted to know how they met, when they got married, how many kids they had, when they retired, why they decided to travel — everything. And they loved to tell the stories.
“So, that was it,” Nora said after dinner, finishing the last of her chili and handing her little bowl to Glen. “There we were, about six months retired and watching Netflix all day every day because our darling daughter had showed us how to work it on our television, and I just saw our lives slipping away. I hated it. So, we bought this old camper, made it our project to fix her up, and as soon as she was good to go, we made our first trip.”
“That was three years ago,” Glen said, taking both mine and Emery’s bowls, too. He even picked up Kalo’s, who was spoiled with the scraps that evening. “We’ve seen a lot of the country and even some of Canada since then.”
“See what happens when you listen to me?” Nora teased.
“Forty-two years together and I’m still learning, dear.”
“You’re lucky I’m patient.”
They shared a loving glance, Glen winking at her before disappearing inside the camper with our dishes. It was a small, pull-behind one with a full bed they shared and a low-key kitchen. Nora told us they still carried the tent they were letting us sleep in just in case they camped somewhere where they’d want to be outside, like the time they slept right on the edge of a cliff in Canada and overlooked a crystal blue lagoon.
“What about you two?” Nora asked when it was just the three of us around the fire. Kalo was by her feet, already sleeping, her belly full. Nora rubbed her fur with a content smile as she waited for our answer. “Have you made a list of your hopes and dreams for your life yet?”
Emery and I glanced at each other, my eyes wide and his amused as ever as he reached forward and folded his hand over mine. His was warm, mine like ice, and chills sprang from his touch all the way down to my toes.
“We’re still figuring a lot out, but our first stop is Seattle. Cooper here is going to Bastyr in the spring.”
If I get in, I thought, but I just smiled.
“She was telling me a little about that on our hike back up,” Nora said just as Glen rejoined us. He handed Nora another Michelob Ultra before taking the seat next to her. “And what are your plans, Emery? Your dreams?”
I looked at him just as intently as Nora, wondering the same thing myself, but when I saw the discomfort on his face, I squeezed his fingertips draped over mine, letting him know I was there.
And he squeezed back.
“My dad wants me to take over his business. Well, he wants me to be his partner first, but eventually take over.”
“What business is that?” Glen asked.
“We create start-up companies and then sell them, so kind of like flipping houses, except flipping businesses. He’s been successful at it his entire life, and I’ve found out in the past few years that I’m pretty good at it, too.”
“Well, that’s wonderful,” Nora said, but I was still watching Emery, because something in his eyes told me it didn’t matter if he was good at it. Something told me it wasn’t all he wanted. “So, you’ve got the job parts figured out, but that’s such a small part of it. What else? What’s on your list?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Oh, Nora loves lists,” Glen said with a smirk. “To-do lists, goal lists, pros and cons lists.”
“They’re practical and help keep your brain centered,” Nora defended. “I made Glen sit down with me and make one when we were first married, all of our hopes and dreams. Kids, house, travels, etc. We still have it in a scrapbook at home.”
“That’s so sweet,” I said, leaning a chin on my palm as I sat forward. “Did they all come true?”
Nora grinned, cheersing her beer with her husband’s. “They did, in their own way, but we’ll never check the whole list off. That’s not the point. In fact, we add new items to the list every year.”
“It’s about growing together. Changing. And figuring life out along the way,” Glen agreed, and I smiled.
I liked them.
“You guys should make a list,” Nora said. “We can start it right now.”
“Great idea! And I have just the thing to get the creative juices flowing.” Glen pulled a long, cigar-looking thing from his pocket, waggling his eyebrows as Nora chuckled.
“What is that?”
“It’s a joint,” Emery answered, and now he was watching me with that same amused smile, as if he was curious as hell over what I’d say next.
“Oh.”
Nora and Glen’s faces dropped.
“I’m sorry, dear, are you okay with it? We don’t want to offend you. It’s legal here, of course, but we know some people still have opinions about it.”
“No, no,” I assured Nora. “It’s fine, honestly. I’ve just never… I don’t really drink. By choice. And I’ve never really been around… this before.” I gestured to the joint in Glen’s hand.
“Weed,” Emery said. “It’s just weed, Cooper.”
Glen lit the joint after making sure several times that I was okay with it, and I watched in fascination as he smoked it before handing it to Nora, who took two hits herself. Then she leaned up in her seat, passing it around the fire to Emery, and his eyes caught mine before he put the end of the joint to his lips and sucked in a breath.