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CHAPTER 17

Little Victories Bucket List No. 34: Bubbles

The Bell Creek central square buzzed with activity two days later as Cammie sat on a worn wooden bench, her laughter mingling with the sounds of children playing while chatting with her friends on her phone. The sun warmed her skin, a sure sign spring had arrived. “Tell us about the guy,” Elodie enthused.

“Well,” she began.

“Oh, she’s smitten,” Kenna declared.

“How can you tell from just that one word?” Monica asked.

“Oh, I can tell. It was the same with all of you.”

“She’s got a point,” Carly added. “There’s a certain inflection in the voice when we’re talking about our guys.”

“All right. Fine. I guess,” Cammie relented, laughing till tears slipped free. “I’m smitten with Wade. He . . . mmm.”

“Yeah, he is,” Ashlyn crowed.

“He’s been helping me with my bucket list.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet,” Kenna cooed.

“What have you done so far?” Elodie asked.

“Let’s see. He took me on a motorcycle ride.”

“Which one did that cover?”

“‘Ride Something with Two Wheels.”

Ashlyn laughed. “I like the interpretation of that.”

“Did you like it?” Carley asked.

Cammie thought of the ride, and how free she’d felt. Plus, being plastered up against Wade’s back was an added bonus. “It was awesome.”

The women all laughed, then Elodie asked, “What else.”

“He taught me how to line dance. That was ‘Walk on the Wild Side,’” she said before they could ask. “And when he discovered I was about to make my first s’more in the microwave―”

“Eww,” Elodie gasped. Of course, the chef in her would balk as such a thing.

“He took me camping and taught me to make the perfect s’more over the campfire.”

A long, drawn-out “Wow” sighed over the phone line from Lexie. “He sounds perfect.”

“What happened after the s’mores?” Ashlyn wondered.

Cammie could feel the heat of a blush rising in her cheeks and she ducked her head even though her friends couldn’t see it. “We kissed,” she answered, a small smile teasing her lips.

The women all reacted enthusiastically. From ‘awws’ to ‘you get ‘em, girl’ were called out.

“Wait,” cried Kenna to be heard over the others. “This was your first kiss, wasn’t it?” she guessed correctly. Cammie had talked to Kenna one night about her inexperience with the opposite sex. Her friend had assured her it would come naturally to her when the time was right. She’d been correct.

“You mean like the first . . . ever?” Ashlyn’s voice rose incredulously, a mixture of shock and anger coloring her tone.

“You know how I was raised,” Cammie whispered, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. These women all seemed much more worldly than her. Much more experienced. Sometimes, surrounded by their boisterous laughter and bawdy jokes that she didn’t always understand, she felt a pang of isolation. Like she didn’t quite fit in. But they never made her feel like that on purpose. It was just her own insecurities playing with her head.

“Aw. I’m sorry, sweetie. I didn’t mean it like that,” Ashlyn apologized. “I’m really happy for you.”

“As we all are,” Elodie added.

“So, how was it?” Monica asked. “Better than the motorcycle ride?”

“One hundred percent,” laughed Cammie. Leave it to them to bring her out of her own head.

“Yeah. It was like that the first time I kissed Scott,” mused Elodie.

“Pretty sure it was like that we all kissed our guys for the first time,” Lexie added.

“Not me,” Ashlyn admitted.

Carly scoffed. “That’s because you had that friends with benefits thing going with Slate.”

“True,” Lexie agreed. “But look where that got them.”

The women all laughed again, and Cammie felt lighter. A gnawing worry had settled in her stomach about Wade and the secretive mission that had whisked him away so abruptly. The silence from him only adding to her anxiety.

Needing to know how her friends handled the work their men did, she asked, “How dangerous are the missions your guys go on?”

“Why do you ask, sweetie?” Ashlyn wondered.

“Wade works for a security company. Something called Condor’s Overwatch. He explained some of what they do, but I don’t know a lot. He had to leave suddenly a few days ago for some sort of mission.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone line. It lasted so long Cammie worried the call had been disconnected. “Hello? You guys still there?”

“Sorry. Yes. We’re still here,” assured Elodie.

“To answer your question, yes, their missions can be dangerous. But that’s why they train so hard,” Kenna answered.

“And they always have each other’s backs,” added Monica.

“But I don’t think Wade had anyone go with him,” worried Cammie.

“Then it’s probably not as dangerous as you’re thinking,” Carly said, attempting to alleviate her concerns.

“Besides,” interjected Kenna. “If he works for a company like Condor’s Overwatch, he’s probably had extensive training.”

“He was an Army Ranger before,” Cammie reported.

“See,” Ashlyn said, her voice full of confidence. “He’s been well trained. He’ll come back to you.”

Cammie nodded even though they couldn’t see it, feeling a little better at having talked to them. Needing to lighten the mood, she asked Monica about her baby. They gushed effusively about the little girl, excitedly recounting all of her amazing accomplishments and milestones she had reached. A few more minutes of laughter and easy conversation passed before they said their goodbyes, already planning their next chat.

Feeling better than she had before the phone call, Cammie dug in the plastic bag beside her and took out the plastic bottle of bubbles she’d purchased at the grocery store. It hadn’t been a planned purchase, but seeing it on the shelf, she couldn’t resist. She imagined playing with bubbles to be one of the quintessential joys of childhood and she couldn’t wait to experience it herself.

She cracked open the cap, pulled off the protective seal, and dug through the tiny opening for the stick floating inside. Leaning over so as not to drip the soapy solution on herself, she brought the stick up to her lips and blew.

Nothing happened.

Putting the wand back into the bottle, she swiped it around a few times before trying again. This time, she started to see the beginning of a bubble before it popped. Frustrated, she started the process over again. Once more, the bubble popped before it was fully formed.

“You’re blowing too hard,” a small voice from across the sidewalk said. Cammie looked up to see a little red-headed girl she guessed was around nine or ten.

“There’s a trick to this?” Cammie asked, her previous assumptions about the toy’s simplicity shattered.

“Yup,” the girl answered, popping the P.

“Can you help me?”

The little girl looked over at a woman who was reading a book on the bench across from hers. It was obvious the two were related. The little girl was the older woman’s mini-me.

“Go ahead,” the woman prompted.

The girl skipped across the path to Cammie. Oh, to be young and have that much energy. Cammie handed the bottle to her new friend, who dug the stick out and brought it to her own lips, uncaring about the mess as the liquid dripped down her arm.

In astonishment, Cammie watched as numerous bubbles formed and released from the stick. They floated through the air, their luminescent forms catching the sunlight, creating swirling rainbows of color that shimmered and danced.

“See. It just takes a little bit of breath.”

“You’re very good at this,” Cammie remarked.

“I’m a pro,” she said proudly.

“I’m Cammie.”

“I’m Kaia,” she replied, then pointed to the woman on the bench. “That’s my mom, Kali.”

Cammie offered a friendly wave; the woman, in turn, gave a quick, almost shy wave back. “She’s shy. She always says I’m her total opposite.” Kaia laughed as she blew another bubble. “She calls me bubble because of my bubbly personality.”

“Guess that’s why you’re so good at blowing bubbles,” Cammie remarked.

“Excuse me,” a new voice interrupted them. Cammie looked up to see a woman approaching. Her dark hair was long and tied back at her nape and her skin had a rich, tan hue, characteristic of many Latina women. “Do you live here?”

Cammie hesitated wondering where the woman was going with her question. “I do.”

“Great,” she breathed. “I was hoping you could direct me to a decent cup of coffee.” Cammie noticed a subtle accent in the way the woman spoke, even though her English was quite good. Judging by her complexion, she surmised that her native tongue was likely Spanish. As if triggered by some unseen force, the cruel Spanish shouts and insults she had endured during her captivity flooded back into her mind, a torrent of painful memories suddenly overwhelming her.

“My mom likes the coffee at Flour Power,” Kaia answered when Cammie didn’t.

“Flour Power? What’s that?”

“It’s a bakery. They have the best cupcakes,” enthused Kaia.

“And they have good coffee?”

“Yup. My mom said they finally hired someone who knows their way around a coffeemaker.”

That made Cammie laugh, distracting her from her painful memories. “That would be me,” she admitted.

“Really?” A look of pure joy lit Kali’s face as she joined them, clearly thrilled by the exciting news. “You are a lifesaver.”

“It’s just coffee,” she said, trying to shrug off the praise.

“It’s not just coffee. It’s the elixir of the gods,” Kali raved. “If I didn’t have my daily coffee fix, I could never keep up with this one,” she said, ruffling Kaia’s hair affectionately.

“I’m sold,” the stranger said. “Can you tell me where to find this place?”

Cammie looked at her phone to see the time. “I’m just done with my lunch break. Why don’t you follow me there?”

“Can we go too, Mom? I wanna cupcake.”

“Sure. I could use a pick me up.”

For a split second, Cammie thought she saw the woman’s eyes flash with a brief, sharp anger before she schooled her expression. She pondered what might have caused such a response, a knot of apprehension tightening in her chest. They started walking toward Flour Power with Kaia chatting enthusiastically as they went. Cammie watched the woman from the corner of her eye, noticing the subtle clench of her jaw and the forced smile directed at the child, a stark contrast to her steely gaze. Did the woman not like children? But then, as Cammie held the door to Flour Power open, she saw the woman’s steely-eyed hateful glare directed at her before the woman quickly masked her expression. She tried to believe in the inherent goodness of everyone, but a wealth of past experiences had taught her the importance of caution with a healthy dose of wariness. And the fleeting hostility she saw in the woman’s eyes sent a warning chill running down Cammie’s spine.