He doubted he’d have found his place in the world, either. If he hadn’t seen that Renata was going to direct the television show documenting its progress, he never would have signed up for Base Camp. After his years growing up at Greenleaf, he’d thought he wanted something different.
He’d been wrong.
He was finding that his years at the Oregon commune had given him knowledge and skills that were coming in handy now that Base Camp was expanding and transitioning from a top-down military-style establishment to a democratically run community. He’d grown up learning consensus-building techniques, knew how to listen and give feedback and knew, too, when people needed a break and a chance to think things over before coming back together to solve a problem.
He’d been elected to serve on the advisory council for Base Camp, along with a mixture of old and new members, and together they were building off Boone’s initial governing document, holding meetings, making plans—and deciding how big was too big for Base Camp to grow.
Now that there were plenty of volunteers to fill out the green energy crew, he’d shifted to leadership full-time, which suited him better, he had to admit. As much as he was interested in making their carbon footprint smaller, there were other men and women here whose skills far surpassed his, and he’d taken to working part-time in the garden to keep from being fully sedentary but spent the bulk of his time keeping Base Camp running.
He liked how it meant he got to work with everyone in one capacity or another. He’d been part of the team creating orientation materials for new arrivals and ended up developing an entire weeklong program that every new Base Camp community member went through when they moved in. It got everyone on the same page, made it easy to find out where they’d best fit in the picture and sparked friendships between old and new members alike.
When Renata bent to look at Adalynne, he whispered, “She’s sound asleep.”
“Better get her home.”
“You sure? I heard something about late-night snacks at the bunkhouse after everyone’s gone.”
“Let’s get some and take them with us.”
Greg followed her happily. Renata was a people-person in her own way, but at the end of the day she needed hours to recharge alone before she was ready for another day. He would happily curl up with her on the couch, knowing tomorrow he’d get to spend time with a dozen or more different people.
They ducked into the bunkhouse, where Kai and Addison were just putting out platters of finger foods. Jess was helping. After her fling with Brody had fizzled, she’d asked to stay on at Base Camp after the show ended. She’d soon met a man in town who shared her interest in sustainability and gotten engaged recently. They lived in one of the new tiny houses. She’d been pitching in on the documentary projects, but she seemed to have boundless energy for everything going on in the community.
After they filled their plates, they headed to their own tiny house.
When he and Renata moved in together, they’d found they had similar collections of artifacts from their separate journeys around the world, and now their home reflected that. “It’s like a teeny, tiny museum,” Avery had once told him, and he agreed; their collection was small but interesting.
They worked quietly together to get Adalynne settled, her button nose, rosebud mouth and tiny hands too cute for words to Greg’s way of thinking. He’d secretly hoped for a son, thinking he’d know how to bond with a boy better than a girl, but as soon as she was born, she’d wrapped him around her finger. He was probably going to spoil Adalynne rotten. Good thing she had a sensible mother, who would set them both straight if need be.
Greg pulled Renata down beside him on the small but comfortable couch in the living room, and they watched the others trail up to the manor or to the bunkhouse or to any number of places depending on where they lived and what chores they needed to finish before settling down for the night. Greg loved his home’s huge windows and the way they brought the outside into their little space.
They sat at opposite ends of the couch. He absently rubbed her feet with one hand, feeding himself tidbits with the other, washing it all down with a beer.
“I think I talked more today than I usually do in a month, and that’s saying something.” He’d been tasked with ushering folks from place to place, suggesting what parts of Base Camp they might find interesting and trying to keep it so no one place got swamped.
“You should be exhausted, but you’re not.”
“I’m energized,” he admitted. That’s how he felt all the time now because he’d found the perfect occupation in the perfect place. “What about you? How’d your day go?”
“It went well.” She sighed and leaned back, offering him her other foot. “People are excited to find out I’m going to direct a feature-length movie that isn’t a documentary. I wouldn’t have thought anyone remembered I wanted to, seeing as I took so much time off.”
“A year is hardly that much time.”
“Not many people have the luxury to do that,” she pointed out. “I think a lot of them wondered if I’d let my career go once Adalynne was born.”
Greg shook his head. “I doubt that. You’re too driven.”
“I was afraid some of them would think I should just stay home.”
He shook his head again. “Your love for your work is too obvious. You can’t be contained for long. Even if you devoted yourself to Adalynne until she grew up, you’d go back to film then. You can’t help yourself.”
“I guess not.”
Renata snuggled into the puffy cushions of the couch, closing her eyes and letting Greg’s fingers work their magic. He might be energized, but
