Note from Author- I tried to add the fictionalized email addresses into the story but the doc manager on prevents the email handle from showing. The following exchanges below were intended to be email exchanges.
DATE: September 2, 3:30pm
TO: Scott Summers
FROM: Jean Grey
SUBJECT: Mic check…one, two.
Dear Mr. Program Manager Fancy Pants,
I hope everything is going well at the camp. How's the cabin coming along? I still can't believe you didn't tell me about it all summer! I also think you're nuts for wanting to live in it. I'm excited to see what it looks like next year.
I'm sure the leaves should be changing soon, fall in Michigan is one of my favorites. I spent one of my long weekend breaks staffing a fall retreat, and I remember the big red leaves the size of my palms all over the grounds. New York has a pretty impressive fall, and I'm sure Seattle will impress but nothing beats the magic of Michigan. And before I forget, you've got to get your hands on a fresh apple pie from the farmer's market in town. It's to die for!
I am getting settled here in Seattle just fine. I found a cute little apartment. It used to be an old flour factory that they converted into condos. I've even got a little view of the sound! Well, kinda. If you climb up the fire escape, the rooftop has a view. Oh, and it gets better, I was able to get a job a coffee shop a few blocks away. They are willing to work with my class schedule. The first couple of days were a little crazy, why are there so many different types of coffee roasts and beans? Ack!
Also, my degree program changed. My parents made some phone calls (read: donated enough money) and suddenly I was accepted into the doctorate program for psychology *insert eye roll* I was going to decline but realized I can probably have more flexibility with an over the top psychology degree than a master's in social work. I've only been in class for two weeks and so far, everyone seems cool. A little competitive but that goes with the territory.
Hope the laptop has been treating you well,
J
DATE: September 8, 10:18 pm
TO: Jean Grey
FROM: Scott Summers
SUBJECT: Coffee Confusion
Dear (soon to be) Dr. Jean Grey,
Congrats on the new program!
More importantly, did I read that right? YOU are working at a coffee shop? How much did you lie to get them to hire you? You hate coffee. Joking. Well, about the lying part.
Things here are going. Sorry for the delayed response. The office was the only place with internet and I had to pick up and install some new wifi routers around the camp – we are now connected to the world wide web. Big changes here!
I am trying to work on the cabin in my spare time as much as possible with the days still somewhat long. I finished all the repairs on the floors and replaced a couple treads (the top part of a stair step). I am refinishing the floors this weekend, I am thinking of keeping them their natural oak color. There's a lot of character and knots in the grain that I like. Once that's finished I am hoping to replace the windows and then she'll be ready for a new coat of paint.
Charles and I are working on defining my new role. I will be taking over some of his duties, mostly the program planning, running camp week to week or handling retreats, so he can slow down and focus on finances, grants, and whatever else he does in the office behind the curtain.
The farmhouse is quiet with everyone gone. I can't tell if I love or hate it, haha.
Be careful on the fire escape,
Scott
DATE: September 24, 8:15pm
TO: Scott Summers
FROM: Jean Grey
Subject: R.I.P.
Well it finally happened…my car has officially been laid to rest. Bless its sweet soul.
City life just wasn't meant to be. I was driving to school one morning and it stalled at a light. Which was super embarrassing with a million horns honking at me…to be fair, I was blocking the intersection. I was able to call a tow truck and get it to a repair shop. I missed class just to find out it needed basically a new…everything! Sheesh!
I managed to get $250 for it, probably will just be junked for parts or something awful I don't want to think about. If anything I was able to use the money to pay the tow truck bill, treat myself to a pity dinner, and buy a bike.
That's right, I am now one of those annoying city bikers. Actually, it's been working out pretty well. I walk to work which is only about ten minutes and I can bike to campus in about twenty minutes. So far, I haven't really left the city, so I think I am going to manage okay without a car.
Other than that, everything else is going pretty well….it rains…a lot. Oh, I managed to make a new friend! Her name is Wanda, but everyone calls her Scarlet. She works at the coffee shop and seems pretty cool.
That's all for now,
J
DATE: September 26, 12:47pm
TO: Jean Grey
FROM: Scott Summers
SUBJECT: Re: R.I.P.
Sorry to hear about your loss, I'm actually surprised that car made it out there in one piece. But that's great to hear about your new bike and friend.
I got one of those apple pies – wow. I could probably eat one every day. I'm actually eating a piece right now for lunch, don't tell anyone.
We had a couple retreats this month, they went pretty well. One was a corporate company doing some team building stuff and the other was a church youth group. It's different than working with the kids in the summer, but I still enjoy it.
Finished the floors in the cabin, I think they turned out decent for my first refinish. I propped open the door with a stool to let the polyurethane dry and I came back and found little footprints across the top sheen…had to redo a little section. Darn squirrels. I started building some new cabinets from some old pine I found on clearance at the hardware store. I might actually have some sort of a kitchen in order before the winter.
Hope all is well in the big city,
Scott
Scott was standing in the aisle of the hardware store, his most frequented spot lately. It was placed snuggly in the little sleepy town about twenty minutes from the camp. The town itself was a tiny blimp on the map consisting of a grocery store, post office, a small car repair shop, hardware store, a two-movie showing theater, and an old video rental shack. He became a regular to the locals as he hopped in and out of town once or twice a week. It was easy to recognize a new familiar face pretty quick in a small sleepy town.
Logan agreed to let him borrow the pickup when it wasn't in use, it acted more as the community camp vehicle. Remy also occasionally used it for his big shopping hauls, which usually was a forty-five-minute drive to Kalamazoo, the next largest town with a warehouse style store he could get everything he needed in bulk. Things with Logan in general seemed to cool down without a redheaded antagonist bouncing around camp.
"Excuse me, do you sell any kits to open a car door?"
Scott was looking over some paint colors and he looked up to see a woman standing a few feet away. He realized she was speaking to him.
"Oh, sorry I don't work here," he examined the tall blonde. She looked out of place with her black high heels and blazer jacket.
"Oh! Gosh, sorry. I thought you did," she laughed nervously, "I didn't see anyone at the counter and just assumed…"
"No problem. Dave who runs the place might be in the back," he noticed she looked a little flustered, "Can I help with anything maybe?"
She shifted the weight of her black leather purse, securing it more firming on her shoulder, "Well, I was across the street at the grocery store and locked my keys in the car."
"I can take a look, if you don't mind?" Scott started towards the front of the store and she followed him.
"That would be great," her heels clicked along and the little bell above the door rang as they walked out together.
"This one," she brought him over to a red shiny Volvo, perfectly matched to her lipstick. Sure enough the keys were resting on the seat through the glass, "Ugh, they must have not made it into my purse when I got out. I feel like an idiot."
Scott walked around the car examining it carefully, cupping his hands against the glass to get a good look into the interior, "I'm sure it happens all the time, no need to beat yourself up. Do you happen to have a spare key anywhere?"
"I do," she gave a long-defeated sigh, "…back in Chicago. I'm just in town for a few days visiting family."
Scott crinkled his nose, "Yikes, that doesn't help," It made sense that a woman like that wasn't a local, "Tell you what, I can give you a ride to where ever you are staying. At least then you can sort out a locksmith and not be stranded into town."
Her eyes lit up, "If you have the time, that would be perfect. I'm just about ten minutes up by Corey Lake."
He happily agreed, it was the least he could do for the stranded traveler. She looked like the type of person that would hail a cab at an instant. But taxis didn't exist out in the rural quaint farm town, at least he'd never seen one. They walked a few spots down to the pick and helped her into the cab. He shut the door behind her and walked over to the driver's side.
He pushed the shifter into drive and the truck growled alive. "I'm Scott," he said as they started down the road.
She looked over at the man behind the steering wheel, "Oh, right. Emma."
"So, Emma," he made small talk on his unexpected journey, "Did you get everything you needed at the store? I can make a stop if you want."
The blonde let out a small sarcastic laugh, "Oh no, thank you. I was trying to find some wine to tolerate the weekend with family, but I forgot the little podunk grocery store doesn't sell alcohol."
"The gas station on the other side of town has some beer, but I don't think I've ever seen wine. But I've also never really looked."
"Oh, it's fine, I have the car situation to take care of now anyways," she huffed and gazed out the window at the tall grass that shot up at the edge of the road, "So do you live out here? Can't say I've ever seen you before," she shifted and looked at him, "I feel like I would remember a face like yours."
Is she hitting on me?
"No," he said instinctively but then realized, yes this is technically now his home. "Well actually yes, but it's a newer situation. Just moved here, I suppose," he paused, "Are you from around here? It sounded like perhaps you lived in Chicago?"
"Sadly yes, I grew up here."
That made sense if she was visiting family, duh.
She pointed out the street he needed to turn down, leading him down a few more streets and then they pulled up to a split-level ranch located on a large partially wooded lot. He pulled into the driveway and threw the truck into park. He got out and went around to help her down, she looked more suited for the Volvo than the dingy pickup.
"Well Scott, thanks for the ride," She took his hand and flashed him a smile, her icy blue eyes meeting his, "Did you want to stay for dinner?"
He shook his head, shutting the door behind her, "Oh thank you, but I should be getting back."
The door to the front of the house swung open, "Emma! We're all waiting for you, what the heck?!"
The familiar voice caught his attention and Scott turned to see Kitty barging up the long cracked driveway with her hands on her hips.
"Scott?" She halted a few feet from them.
"Hi Kitty…" he looked between the two women suddenly confused.
"You know her?" Kitty's tone was in shock.
"You know him?" Emma said a little surprised.
"I have no idea what is going on," Scott's brow quirked.
"Scott works at the camp I worked at this summer," Kitty crossed her arms.
Emma tilted her head back, "Aaah. Well that makes sense. I had a little trouble with my car and I was kind enough to run into this fine gentleman to help me."
"We literally just met, this is all really random," Scott explained to Kitty, "So how do you know…each other?" A puzzle piece was still missing in his mind.
"Sisters," Emma replied.
"Half-sisters," Kitty corrected, which got an eye roll out of Emma, "We have different dads, last names, personalities…"
"He gets the point, Shadowcat." Emma seemed impatient with her little sister. Clearly, they weren't the closest of siblings but that was none of his business.
What were the chances. Scott knew that Kitty was a local kid, went to the Three Rivers High School but hadn't any idea about her home life or where she actually lived.
"Well, Kitty it was good to see you, I should probably head back now and sounds like everyone is waiting inside for you girls."
Jean walked down the damp city sidewalk. Her legs were exhausted after an eight-hour shift at the coffee shop. It was her night to close up, the sign on the window said they were open until 8pm but by the time everything was cleaned up and prepped for the next morning, the employees walked out about an hour later.
She fumbled for her little set of keys as she stepped out of the drizzle and into the small cozy lobby. She saw a package with her name laying under the little row of mailboxes in the wall. She grabbed it and headed up the stairs to the fourth floor. Life in Seattle was good, not great or terrible. It was exciting to be on her own for the first time, void of dorms and feeling more like a true twenty four year old. Her roots slowly started to grow, she had a couple of favorite spots she liked to eat, one of them being a good hole in the wall Chinese restaurant. You know you're starting to feel settled when you have a favorite Chinese place to help carry you through nights you don't want to cook.
She threw her canvas bag down underneath the coat rack by the front door and dropped her keys on the counter while kicking off her black tennis shoes. The stove clicked as it ignited a small flame which she set a kettle of hot water on top of. She set the small box down on the coffee table and went into the tiny bedroom. She stripped out of her damp black work attire, pulling her hair out of its messy bun, and found a dry set of comfy clothing.
Within a few minutes the teapot was whistling in the other room. She picked out her favorite decaf tea blend and poured herself a fresh cup, the aroma of lavender and mint filling up the tiny flat. She plopped down on her teal sofa, a prized resale shop finds of hers. She picked up the package and studied it carefully. The return address was the same address as camp. It perked her interest, she hadn't received many deliveries other than some odds and ends she'd ordered for her apartment online.
The box was about the size of a toaster, not overly big but it was feather light. She carefully ripped at the brown packing tape and unfolded the flaps in her lap. Her face lit up when she discovered it was full of an assortment of large vibrant red and orange leaves. There was a little note on top.
"A little bit of Michigan for you.
-Scott"
She couldn't believe it, her mouth hung open in a wild smile. She dug her hands into the box, feeling the leaves flow through her fingers. She leaned over and inhaled deeply. The earthy smell brought back images of the tall oaks and thick maples in the forests of Michigan. She amused herself thinking of her loyal friend out in the woods picking out the best leaves to stuff into the box. Her heart felt as if it were going to burst from the thoughtful package.
It was absolutely the best gift she had ever received. She grabbed her laptop.
DATE: October 16, 9:36pm
TO: Scott Summers
FROM: Jean Grey
SUBJECT: THANK YOU
Scott!
I just got my package – how/why are you so amazing?!
Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, x million. I don't deserve you.
Thank you for making my day,
J
DATE: October 17, 9:15am
TO: Jean Grey
FROM: Scott Summers
SUBJECT: Your Welcome
Glad you got your surprise. I was stuffing the scarecrows with raked up leaves for the annual fall festival and thought of you. Besides, with all the gifts you keep on throwing at me, It's the least I could do :)
Each year Camp Xavier hosted a small fall festival weekend that was open to the public the last week of October. They mad a little mock pumpkin patch in front of the main lodge where kids could pick out their orange plump prizes and then carve them right at the carving station. They put on a small haunted woods trail where local volunteers and high school kids dressed up and jumped out at anyone willing to enter. They had apple bobbing down by the beach and a warm campfire with cider to warm up at. It was truly a magical feeling as people walked around in thick sweaters holding their mugs of coffee and cider.
Scott was talking with Mrs. Williams, an older woman he met in town on one of his trips. She was the one who made the melt in your mouth apple pies. Scott had convinced her to bake some pies and sell them at the fall fest. They were sold by the slice or people could purchase and take home a whole pie. It was a huge hit and he was happy to see her hard work rewarded. Everyone went home with a belly and bag full of pie.
"How about you come repair my screen door in exchange for a pie?" The old woman spoke warmly. Lose curls and wisps slipped out of her neat gray bun. She truly looked like the quintessential grandma type who should be on the cover of a syrup bottle or cake mix box.
"Mrs. Williams, you don't have to do that," he smiled at her. The scent of warm pies lingered at the stand set up in front of the main office teased Scott as he helped her pack up for the evening, "I will be happy to come by and take care of that on my next free day."
"Oh, look at you!" Her eyes twinkled, "You're a skinny young thing. You need to be fattened up."
Scott laughed, "Well, if you insist, I won't push a no on those pies!" The whole small-town life depicted in cheesy movies was real to an extent. It was eerie how quickly life changes and people adjust. Scott had only been at the camp since May and already it felt like he was there his whole life.
He helped finish packing up her little car. There wasn't much to do since she just sold her last pie as she was getting ready to leave. Scott watched the last few people of the day head to their cars, tuckered out from all the excitement. Charles headed in for the night and Logan was cleaning up the pumpkin carving station. He even had a chance to see Kitty earlier in the day, she stopped by to volunteer for the weekend, always entertained to help with any task.
His legs were heavy with tiredness. It's amazing how quickly a day can pass by and without realizing it, he was on his feet for a good portion of the day since dawn. He walked into the empty farmhouse and instinctively grabbed a beer out of the kitchen. He popped to top off with his thumb and grabbed the notepad sitting on the kitchen counter. He studied the scribbled writing on the pad, a timeline he had scribbled out. It was full of repairs and various things he wanted to accomplish on the cabin, each line a task waiting for him.
He sipped the beer and added a couple more notes as he sat at the kitchen table.
*DING*
The laptop on the other side of the table buzzed and the screen came to life. It caught his attention and he looked up to see a new email sitting in his inbox. He smiled and opened it.
DATE: October 28, 10:14pm
TO: Scott Summers
FROM: Jean Grey
SUBJECT: Gobble Gobble
Hey, I've been thinking …do you have any plans for Thanksgiving?
I would love it if you came out and visited me. I think it would be super fun, I can show you my new place and you can get out of the Midwest for a minute.
It's probably a crazy thought…
J
Scott hadn't thought about the holidays at all. They were typically a time of year that he wasn't particularly fond of and hoped it passed quickly, like a bad stomach ache. He leaned back in the chair, thinking of the silly woman on the other end of the cables and virtual wires that connected them each at the fingertips. His eyes fluttered down to the pad of paper. He had accomplished more than he thought he would by now. Although he originally planned to be in the cabin by early December, he realized quickly into his remodel that the goal was a little too ambitious. Between taking on his new role, learning his responsibilities, and doing all the repairs himself, it wasn't feasible, but he readjusted his goals to be ready to move in by sometime next summer. Maybe he did have time for a visit?
He popped open the calendar on the computer, they were trying to be more digital with their files and organization since he started. It wasn't something he was familiar with but he learned with the new laptop with some online searches that it was a lot more resourceful and freed up some clerical busy work, so they could focus on more important things at the camp. He saw that the week of Thanksgiving was blocked off,
'NO ACTIVITIES -HOLIDAY WEEK'
He took another sip of beer and thought in the quiet still house. The thought of actually contemplating Jean's invitation was insanity. He mulled on it until he finished his beer. He sat back up and opened up his laptop,
DATE: October 28, 10:48pm
TO: Jean Grey
FROM: Scott Summers
SUBJECT: You're Crazy
Okay, I'll come out.
-Scott