Fall With Me

York. We’ll be by the house. Our paths might cross.”
    “They might,” he says, sounding resigned. “Or they might not. Either way is fine with me.”
    “Things are different. I’ve been doing some things differently, Dad. I thought you might like to hear about it.”
    “Like I said: If I see you, I do. At this point in your life, Griffin, I doubt any changes that you’ve made are really going to be that surprising to me.”
    It would be easy enough to get mad, but instead I just smile and say goodbye. He’ll just have to wait and see in person.
     

Chapter 22: Jill
     
    On Sunday, Mom tells me that Uncle Nate is going to Lanai for a few weeks and has a layover in San Francisco. He wants to take us out to lunch.
    “Do you think you’ll be able to get away from the ranch for a little while that day? I know it’s right in the middle of the week,” Mom says. “I think it’d be good if you could make it. He says he has something he wants to tell us.”
    “Hmm, I wonder what that could be,” I say, though I’m sure I already know. And I can’t help but wonder if he starts talking his conspiracy theories again, if I might just say something, even though I still don’t have anything concrete to go off of.
    When I get back to the ranch, I talk to Lorrie and get the time off, even though it’s a Thursday and it’ll be right in the middle of the day.
    “Would Griffin like to go, too?” Lorrie asks me with what may or may not be a coy smile.
    It’s hard not to smile back, though in response I only say, “I don’t know why he would.”
    “I’m sure your mom would like to meet him. Your uncle, too. We could spare the two of you for a few hours.”
    Though I doubt the idea would’ve occurred to me on my own, once Lorrie brought it up, it seemed perfect. It would be good for Mom, and I have a feeling that Uncle Nate will actually really like Griffin.
    I find Griffin and a few campers sitting outside, cleaning the fishing gear. His back is to me as I approach, and he’s telling them all a story about a fishing trip he went on in Alaska. I pause for a moment and watch the faces of the kids that I can see; even though he’s been here for a few weeks now, the campers are every bit as enamored with him as they first were.
    “You had to club the fish?” one of them asks.
    “Don’t let Jill hear about it!” another one replies.
    “Don’t let me hear what?” I say.
    Griffin turns and sees me, a big smile breaking out on his face. “Hey, there, sweetheart,” he says.
    I see a few of the campers shoot worried looks at each other, and then at Griffin, and I wonder if that’s really how they see me, as someone who’s going to come roaring in here and ruin their good time because they happen to be talking about clubbing fish.
    “Looks like you guys are having fun over here,” I say, sitting down. I look at Griffin. “I won’t stay long, but I was wondering if you’d like to get lunch on Thursday in the city.”
    “Stay as long as you’d like,” he says. “And yes, I would love to go with you to the city.”
    I’m aware of the looks the kids are giving us—confused but curious. It would probably do them some good to see me being nice to Griffin; perhaps they wouldn’t get that look on their faces next time I walked up.
    “My uncle is going to be in town,” I tell them. “He travels a lot but he likes to come by and visit when he can.”
    Griffin smiles. “Ah, the traveling uncle. Sounds like a good guy. Count me in.”
    I return his smile, and try to ignore the surprised looks on all the campers’ faces.
     
    *
                 
     
    But at breakfast on Thursday morning, it’s clear that Griffin is in no shape to be doing much of anything, never mind take a trip up to the city. He’s pale, his eyes bright, and when I brush my fingertips across his forehead, he’s very hot.
    “You don’t look like you’re doing so well,” I say. “Why don’t you go lie down.”
    He shivers a little, even though he’s wearing a sweatshirt with the hood pulled up and it’s pretty warm in the lodge. “I don’t know what is wrong with me,” he says. “I felt a little off last night but figured I’d just be able to sleep it off. I never get sick.”
    “Go back to bed,” I tell him. “I’ll get you some aspirin and some tea.”
    He coughs into the sleeve of his sweatshirt. “I think you might be onto something there.”
    I drink a cup of coffee and make him lemon tea with