“Definitely worth it,” Grandpa Dean said. “Scarlett, Mindy, Twila, why don’t you share the middle cabin.”
“Yay!” Twila skipped to the cabin’s door.
“Hold your horses.” Grandpa Dean tried to hold back the laugh in his scolding voice.
“Twila.” Mommy motioned her back.
Jeez Louise . . . Twila shuffled back with a guilty smile. Grown-ups were much better at spoiling fun than having fun.
“Ella, you and Justin take this cabin,” Dean said. It had a fun swing on the front porch with lots and lots of bright-blue morning glories crawling up the porch’s posts.
Ella darted to the flowerbed next to the porch. “O-M-G, an aloe vera plant. I can make a poultice for our sunburns.”
Poor Grandpa Dean’s face was all red. Ooh! Just then, a hummingbird buzzed her. She stayed very still, hoping it would land on her. It must like the vibrant colors of her aura.
“Luther, let’s retrieve our carts and your duffle and get settled before we send out a fishing party.” Grandpa Dean winked at her when she frowned at the hummingbird for flying away.
“Scarlett, when we get back, how’s ’bout you and I scout out the lake? We can’t let our guard down for a second. Remember, we’re not on holiday.”
Twila turned around so no one saw her cross-eyed grimace. But Ella caught her and nodded knowingly.
***
Twila stretched out on the comfy lawn chair next to the campfire, thinking how nice the last two days had been at the campgrounds—playing, fishing, and pretending they were a big, happy family. Hmm, would Grandpa Dean notice if she started calling him Grandpa? She would think about it. And maybe surprise him.
Grandpa Dean passed around a plate of yummy fire-roasted fish. She reached for another piece and then changed her mind. Her tummy was so full she thought it might explode. Uncle Luther hadn’t been too good at fishing. Thank the Cosmos Grandpa Dean and Mommy found some nets and used those instead of fishing rods. They had caught all kinds of fish. Even a funny one with kitty-cat whiskers. Catfish was her new favorite fish, especially the way Uncle Luther made it.
Grandpa Dean sorted through the woodpile they had collected. He carefully poked a smooth burgundy-brown branch into the coals. She watched, waiting to see what was different about it. It crackled and popped into a starburst.
“Ooh, so pretty. How did you know?” Twila snuggled up to Grandpa Dean. He knew lots of things. She wondered if she would ever be as smart as him.
He let out a long smile, the smile that made her heart all tingly. His smiles were hard to find these days because he was usually too worried or too hot or too something. But she loved him anyway. He was probably the only grandpa she would ever get. So, she just had to love him exactly the way he was—grumpy and all. Besides, it wasn’t his fault. He was old and hurt a lot. That reminds me. She sent him another loving blast of healing energy.
“Manzanita wood,” Mommy said in a faraway voice.
“Yep, when I was just ’bout your age.” Grandpa Dean turned to Twila. “My cousins and I used to hike to this ravine where the manzanita grew. We’d carry as much as we could, losing half of it in the process.” He stopped. Lost in remembering. “Those fall bonfires, when the weather was perfect—”
“Ooh, did you get to roast marshmallows, too?” Twila asked, staring into the mesmerizing flames that flickered with secret messages.
“You betcha.”
Ella sighed with contentment. “You must have had an awesome childhood.”
No one said anything. They just stared into the campfire. Twila wanted to stay in that moment, absorbing the love of her soul-family. Forever. “Tell me one thing about this special place we get to live. Without thinking where it is,” Twila added hastily. “Pretty please, Grandpa?” There, she finally said it. Would he notice? She batted her eyelashes. That always worked.
She regretted saying it when Grandpa tensed up. She tried pushing into his mind to read his thoughts. This time, she couldn’t see into his mind. Probably for her own good. She even tried the Akashic Records, but it was too blurry since the Ancient Ones had started erasing humanity from existence.
Her soul-family was getting better at guarding their thoughts. Funny how they played different scenes in their mind—like an endless ocean or the cosmos or a thick mist. Justin’s made her laugh. He pretended to be a tumbleweed. Goofball.
“Wild strawberries,” Grandpa finally said. “Used to eat those ’til my belly ached.” He laughed. “Granddaddy used to tell me to lay off them. But I only stopped when he was looking,” he seemed to say directly to her.
“Ooh, Grandpa, I didn’t know you used to get in trouble.”
“Sure, I did. That’s what growin’ up’s all ’bout. Learning ’bout this and that. What to do, and what not to, and the like.” Grandpa rubbed her shoulders.
“I can’t wait until I figure out all that stuff.” Maybe she wasn’t hopeless after all.
“Are there lots of wild herbs?” Ella asked.
“More than you can shake a stick at.” Grandpa stopped to play with the fire, creating a flurry of sparks.
“We’re fortunate we found each other,” Mommy started. “Think of all the skills we have. I can sew, garden, fish . . . Ella’s a wonderful cook. Dean, besides knowing weapons, you and Luther can fix practically anything.”
“And all the skills Shari taught us,” Ella went on in a dreamy voice. “From canning to wild-harvesting herbs to making tinctures and salves.”
Oopsy, Mommy left out Justin and Mindy. Had she hurt their feelings?
“Pff, I feel like a total loser,” Justin mumbled. “I’m just—was—a computer geek.”
“Son, you’ve got ingenuity,” Grandpa said. “A rare skill.”
Mommy nodded in agreement. “That’s right. You found Luther with your phone-calling
