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It had been years since Kia let her guest chefs close up the truck without her. But tonight was different.

“You got this?” she asked the local chef she’d invited to cook with her.

They’d featured his recipes and handed out his business cards with every meal. The customers had loved him.

The lights were on in Sullivan’s house when Kia got back.

She’d timed it right. Sullivan was still up, probably stretched out on the sofa listening to an audiobook.

Kia had struggled with a birthday card. How could she capture her feelings and their strange situation in a card?

Hallmark didn’t have a message for that.

Sitting in the cab of her truck, she picked up a pen.

I’m taking you camping. Itinerary and packing list included.

She placed a carabiner on the card and traced it, like the chalk outline that would mark where she fell when the snake got her.

What are these things even for? She drew an arrow to the carabiner outline and tucked the card and carabiner into the envelope.

When she let herself into Sullivan’s house, Sullivan wasn’t listening to an audiobook. She was standing at the kitchen sink, staring out the window. She whirled around, like she’d been caught at something. But she looked happy, no trace of gazing-at-my-lost-wilderness in her eyes.

“Happy birthday.” Kia held out the envelope.

“You remembered.”

“You’re my wife, and I have all your vital stats on my phone. And… I like you. In case you haven’t noticed. Of course I remembered your birthday.”

Sullivan sat down at the kitchen island and slipped her finger into the edge of the envelope, opening it slowly.

Sullivan read the message out loud. “ Dear Sullivan, despite my better judgment, I am taking you camping. We will probably be eaten by snakes. I’ve planned everything. All you have to do is show up. ” Sullivan pressed the card to her chest. “Aww, Kia, that’s my dream birthday.”

“I know.”

Sullivan read on. “ Supplies: RV. Propane. Emergency power supply. Sixty-gallon freshwater tank. Snakebite kit. Bear spray. National Forest Service maps. ” Sullivan laughed. “Where are we going?”

“Opal’s rugby team’s camping trip. She said it’s okay.”

“ Digital compass. Magnetic compass. Book on using a compass? We can live off the grid with this stuff.”

Hearing the list out loud it did sound like overkill. “I carry most of this stuff anyway,” Kia lied.

“A magnetic compass and bear spray?”

“Okay. Not those. But you never know what’s out there in the woods.” Kia chuckled. “Fine, you probably know, but I don’t. Do you want to go or not? Don’t make me buy bear spray for nothing. Those sporting goods stores are terrifying.”

Sullivan jumped up and threw her arms around Kia.

“Of course I want to go. Thank you. I can’t wait.”

And Sullivan held on, her forehead resting on Kia’s shoulder. Nothing had ever felt as right or as natural to Kia as wrapping her arms around Sullivan and holding her.

“You’re welcome,” Kia whispered. The moment felt joyful and solemn, like hello and goodbye and a promise all at the same time.

Sullivan lifted her forehead from Kia’s, but she kept her arms around Kia’s waist.

“You talked to Opal about camping?” Sullivan asked.

“I asked her how I could take you camping without going too far into the wilderness. She told me the She-Pack was going on their annual camping trip, and they could only get a big campsite Sunday through Tuesday. It’s perfect.

You’re off. Mirepoix is closed. And friends and family were all invited.

There’ll be kids there so it can’t be too dangerous. ”

“They bring children to distract the cougars while the adults get away.”

“Sullivan!” Kia slapped Sullivan’s chest gently.

“Don’t worry. It’ll be safer than crossing a street in New York.” Sullivan pulled Kia a little closer. “Now I know why Opal was asking if I’d talked to you about my birthday. It’s really special you’ve done this. I know camping’s not your thing.”

“That’s how much I like you.” The word like was a sugar cube compared to the fantastic sugar sculptures in Kia’s heart.

“I like you too.” Sullivan kissed Kia’s nose. “And I have a present for you too.”

“But it’s your birthday.”

“You’ll be gone by your birthday.” A shadow crossed Sullivan’s face for a second and then passed. “If we’re going camping, it really can’t wait.”

Sullivan led Kia to the back door and turned on the porch light.

Sullivan had set up a little canopy, like the kind that might house a small vendor table or a wedding couple prepared for a light rain.

In its shelter, she’d placed a bistro table and two chairs.

String lights, like the ones in the Mirepoix garden, warmed the space with their golden-white glow.

A bottle of wine sat in an ice bucket between two glasses.

Even though it wasn’t on top of her RV yet, Kia recognized the 1968 Wind Searcher Pop-Up Pavilion immediately.

“Oh my god, Sullivan, how?”

Sullivan bounced on her toes, her excitement like a champagne tower about to spill over.

Kia approached the structure. She touched one of the supports. Embossed on the metal with a care no one would take with a modern RV were the words WIND SEARCHER POP-UP PAVILION .

“You found one! I have a Google Alert on them. If there’s one west of the Rockies I should know about it.

” Kia jumped up and down with excitement like a little kid on Christmas morning.

“Oh my god. Thank you, Sullivan! I’ve been looking for one for years.

I showed you one picture and you found one IRL! ”

“I saw it a minute or two after it went on Facebook marketplace. Then the guy selling it took it down.”

Kia threw her arms around Sullivan and squeezed her.

“Thank you. Thank you! Do I owe you any money? Whatever it cost—”

“It’s a present.”

Sullivan had found a 1968 Wind Searcher Pop-Up Pavilion. It was a miracle.

“How long did it take you to find it?”

“Long enough that I could have come up with the menus for all of next year. You’re welcome.”

Kia hugged Sullivan with her whole body, burying her soft Afro into Sullivan’s chest, feeling its rise and fall. Kia pressed her cheek to Sullivan’s chest, catching the sound of her heartbeat as they embraced.

“This is so sweet. I don’t know what to say.”

Kia took Sullivan’s hand and pulled her under the Pop-Up Pavilion.

“It’s the original canopy, isn’t it? Did Opal tell you I was taking you camping?”

“She kept your secret.”

“She must like me. You don’t keep a secret for someone unless you like them.”

“Nina could come up with some exceptions,” Sullivan said, putting her arm around Kia. “But yes. Opal and Nina both like you. Do you want to take some pictures?” Sullivan asked. “We can reenact the moment.”

“No.” A thousand times no. Everything might come crashing down around her, but this happy memory belonged to her.

“Think about all the people who’ve sat under this.” Still holding Sullivan’s hand, Kia gazed at the string lights. “All their stories. Old couples and families with kids, teenagers who bitched the whole time and then later they realized it was one of their happiest memories. And us.”

She pulled Sullivan into a hug and swayed to imaginary music. And she kissed Sullivan, languid and slow and full of affection, and their kiss became part of the story. Like Sullivan had pointed out at the fair, things didn’t have to be perfect to be wonderful.