“Oh my God, that’s amazing,” I said, wishing I could meet the guy. “And they say we get all the kooks in California.”
Tess pulled into a long paved driveway between the tall trees, and we passed a little tollbooth, where she paid a few dollars, though there was no one inside.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“Point Lookout State Park,” she said. “It’s a state park right on the tip of the peninsula. A lot of people come down here to camp or hike or picnic. This was a civil war prison camp.” She said this the way most people announced that we’d be getting ice cream.
“Exciting,” I said, my tone mocking her slightly. Though the idea of a prison camp did not sound at all romantic or like a good place to get to know someone, the scenery was actually beautiful. There were few other cars in the parking lot, and no one in sight. The birds were calling to one another from the treetops, and I could smell the salt of the ocean.
She sniffed as she parked the car. “It is pretty exciting,” she told me. “And if you can’t appreciate Maryland’s history, this is gonna be a long day for you. I’ve got plans to show you the state’s first capital and about sixteen different churches all built before California was even a state.”
I loved the edge of teasing in her voice, her clear fascination with her home state.
Tess led me on a tour of the park, pointing out where a civil war hospital once stood, and ushering me around the site of a prisoner-of-war camp where the Union held Confederate soldiers through the last years of the war.
“It had to be horrible for them,” Tess said, looking out over the water that surrounded the tip of the peninsula where the park was situated. “That’s Virginia right across the Potomac. If they could just get there, they’d be home, safe in Confederate territory.”
“Quite a swim,” I said, gazing across the wide river but finding my eyes drawn back to the woman beside me. “I bet some tried it though.” I wandered around a bit, sweating in the dense close air of the woods, glad for the occasional breeze off the water. “Wait a minute. Wasn’t Maryland part of the Confederacy? You’re south of the Mason Dixon.”
“Switched sides,” Tess said, gesturing for me to follow her back to the trail. We walked in silence for a moment then, picking our way along beneath arching branches and over the slightly muddy path. I walked behind her, unable to keep my eyes from following the sway of her hips in her jeans, the way her ponytail seemed to bob in time with her steps.
I was just about to step a bit closer, try to find words to tell her how happy I was to have a day with her, a chance to get to know her, to explore this feeling I had around her, when a family appeared on the trail in front of us.
A man and a woman were leading two bored-looking teenagers around the park, and I shot them a smile as they were about to pass us. The teenaged girl was just stepping past me when she glanced up, and her face went from bored to excited in a split second, her mouth opening and her eyes going wide.
“Oh my God,” she said. Then she squealed, and turned to her mother, grabbing her hand. “Mom! It’s Ryan McDonnell.” She turned back to me. “You’re Ryan McDonnell!”
I was rarely recognized these days, and Maryland was the last place I’d expected someone to know me. Surprise and a hint of embarrassment washed through me, and I felt the color rise in my neck. “I am,” I said. “Or was, last I checked.”
Tess stepped slightly away as the family bunched closer together, staring and smiling.
“Can I take a selfie?” The girl asked, holding out her phone.
“Sure,” I laughed, shooting Tess a quick look. She stood to one side, looking amused.
The girl moved in close and I leaned in over her shoulder as she took the picture, and then the woman pulled something out of her purse. “Will you sign this?” she asked, handing me a pen.
“Of course,” I said. As I signed my name on an envelope for the lady, her husband found his voice. “That last movie you made, the one in Antarctica? With the zombies?”
I cringed and braced myself for him to tell me how awful it was. I knew how terrible it was, but it hurt any time someone agreed with the critics’ assessment, and for some reason I didn’t want him to say it in front of Tess. “Yeah?”
“I loved that movie, man.” The guy grinned at me and slapped me on the back. “Don’t listen to those Hollywood jerks man, you’re good. Really good.”
Now my blush grew hotter. I was definitely not used to praise from unexpected places. “Wow, thank you. That really means a lot to me.” It did. It was almost embarrassing how much.
“You’re awesome, dude,” the other kid said, maybe feeling left out.
The mother looked at Tess suddenly, as if realizing for the first time I wasn’t here alone, just waiting for them to find me in the woods. “Oh, guys. We’re interrupting. Sorry,” she said to Tess. “We’ll let you get on with your day. Come on,” she said, gathering her family together again. “So nice to meet you. Have a good visit.”
The teenaged girl followed her mother, but kept glancing back over her shoulder
