A/N: [December 25th 2024]

December 25th 2023

Chapter 359
We Dance Around the Campfire

"Hello!" The lilting little voice of Shonagh Hallissey ringing through the speakers was a smile in and of itself, and it showed on the huddled faces of the Friars as they all stood together in order to be seen on their former guest's computer back in Ireland. They spoke over one another as they greeted her back, and she looked so happy on their screen. She had missed them as much as they'd missed her in the still short time since they'd said their goodbyes. Had she not gone home when she'd done, this would have been the day she went back, as the other XCs were doing today. It was only right that they should get to talk to the one who had been their XC, and a dearly missed one at that.

"Did you get the package we sent you?" Marianne asked, as Mackenzie had to be casually pulled back so not to take up the whole screen.

"Yesterday!" Shonagh bent to pull the box into view. "I waited, like you said," she beamed, looking as antsy as ever. She'd wanted to open that package so badly ever since it had landed on her doorstep. When Maya playfully suggested that she saw some little corners of tape that had been pulled at, Shonagh got red around the ears, a telling response they had come to know and love. "Can I open it now?" she asked, and when they told her yes, she went right to it. They'd wanted to send her off to this new year of school back home with some small tokens of their love, to show that they were still thinking of her every day and would be with her.

All the goodbyes that day were going to be hard, but maybe the hardest one would not be between host and guest but between a boy and his horse. Ricky Chase had come along with his horse Skipjack, all with the understanding that when he went back to Oregon, Skipjack wouldn't be going with him. He would be settled in at Sanderson Farm, where they'd started taking him at the start of summer, where he could live out the rest of his days. They could have found somewhere for him back in his hometown, but Ricky had heard about Sullivan Stables, and about Sanderson Farm, and they had felt like the answer for Skipjack. He had been his responsibility since he'd been little more than a toddler, and it had been so important for him to handle this decision, too. That didn't make it any easier when they stood together, boy and horse, for what might be the last time ever. Ricky did his best to smile through the tears, and Skipjack stayed close to him like he would have hugged him if he could. The Friars vowed to look in on him as often as possible, and that would have to do.

Among those people that Ricky Chase had to thank for looking after his horse through this past year, he absolutely had fellow XC Gabriel Silva to thank. The boy lived right there on the ranch property as he stayed with Rafa and Cristina, and he had been steadfast in checking in on the elderly horse. Lucas had several times come upon him singing quietly to the horse, lulling songs from home, as he'd brush him just as gently. He would be sad to say goodbye to Skipjack, too, as much as he would be to part with his host family. When he'd arrived in Austin, when they'd discovered that he'd come in the place of his older brother without anyone knowing, he had started out with this concern in him like they would not keep him, and they would send him back home. But he had been allowed to stay, and he had flourished in his year. They weren't going to let this become a trend, they couldn't, but now he'd had his year with them, and they would count him among that growing number of former XCs they would check up on and catch up with in years to come.

They would count Cate Ngo in this, too, and the feeling would be mutual. As together as they had known her to be, the girl was finding it difficult to keep her eyes from going misty from the moment she and host Katie Willows arrived with the latter's family. The girls had become the best of friends in the year they'd spent together, a connection that Lucas and the others had been privileged to see rise out of the XC program many times throughout the years. Not to say that any of the matches had been bad ones, but some had come away with a much deeper connection than the others, and Cate and Katie were absolutely of that category. They couldn't believe how fast the year had gone by, another common feeling, and that they now had to say goodbye, both of them going back to their lives as they had been. They would keep in touch, that was easy. It was the part where they couldn't just hang out whenever they wanted that was the problem, the part where they couldn't just decide to go off and do something together like they'd done from day one… Even for that, they were so glad for the experience, and yet…

As ever, the departure of the exchange campers did not signal the return of anything to the ranch. There would be a new group of XCs descending upon Sullivan Stables in no time, and until then, the real change to the regular pace existed in the ranch's summer campers, residing up in the bed and breakfast in the rooms arranged and assigned for them. It had been years now since they'd first started, with so few campers as to feel like almost nothing. Nowadays, it wasn't as though they had a sea of campers there with them, but even with the number as it was, twenty in total this year, it was still that many eleven to eighteen-year-olds roaming about at all times, most of them living in the bed and breakfast and being put under the careful watch of Cristina Vega. She was very good at it, for how it had not exactly been part of the job when she'd been taken on to run Mel's B&B, so they generally had nothing to worry about, but couldn't pretend as though it didn't disrupt the regular activity around the ranch over the summer.

There were actually only nineteen of them in the rooms most nights, though it had been agreed upon between their twentieth camper and her very amused parents that she should get to spend at least one or two nights a week up at the ranch with the rest of them 'for the experience.' She wasn't so into that experience as to abandon her siblings back home for the entire run of camp, apparently, and they supported her in this. Marianne had been waiting for this year, waiting to be eleven and thus of the age that was required for any applicant that did not also happen to be the ranch owner's daughter.

Now it was here, and she was out there, day after day, and even though she'd had to say goodbye to Shonagh, even though Haru wasn't right there next to her to finally experience it, too, instead of simply staying at his aunt and uncle's house, she was having a great time. Several of the campers were returnees, so she knew them and they knew her, but even the first timers were good to have around and get to know, and she would cherish every day they all had together.

Unofficial as he was, Marianne would also correct people every time it was suggested that there were only twenty campers this year. The twenty-first was not yet two years old and was very far from being of camp age, but it didn't matter to her. Ezra had his shirt, and he was a camper with her. If ever he couldn't do anything or go anywhere that the rest of them did, she would promise him many stories upon her return and, being who she was, she always kept her promise.

"Pumpkin, we're only going to be out there for a couple of nights," Lucas reminded his firstborn as he came to find the items she'd gotten piled up on her bed and the empty bag that sat waiting to be filled up and brought along for the 'campers' camping,' as they would call it, the annual camping trip that the summer campers would get to go on. Ezra wasn't going on this one, no matter how much his sister had campaigned for it, but she'd set all that aside now, the better to bring her brother – and their sisters – a treasure trove of stories.

"But I have to be ready. Who knows what I'll need?" Marianne shrugged.

"I do, and I'm pretty sure you know you won't need those, too," he vaguely pointed to a section of the items she'd selected.

By the next morning, the bag had been packed – essentials only – and the two of them took off for the ranch, singing loudly all the way, as any self-respecting Friar car ride would demand. Their bags were joined to those of the other campers, and off they went in their bus toward the camp site.

"Are you sure you don't want to go and sleep with the girls over there?" Lucas asked as he and Marianne worked together to assemble their tent.

"I'm sure," Marianne promised. "I want to stay with you, Dad," she told him, and her smile was that favorite Marianne smile of his, the one where she so looked like a perfect mix of Maya and him.

"Alright, I mean, I'm not going to argue with that, am I?" he pulled her close, arm around her shoulders, to plant a kiss at the top of her head. Any chance he got to spend some one-on-one time with any of the kids would feel so special to him, and he knew that Marianne felt the same about him, about her mother, just as her siblings did.

With the tent assembled, they went and brought their bags inside, 'unpacked' a few things ahead of the rest of the day, which would soon involve a run, off to go jump in the lake. It was never Lucas' intention to hide what he had brought with him, but he did pause in surprise when Marianne looked in his bag and discovered the thing he'd decided to pack at the last minute.

"Dad, that's your book, isn't it?" she asked with awe when she held the thing with its plastic bag wrapped around as protection against potential rainfall. There was no fooling her.

"It's the first draft, yes," he confirmed. He'd only finished it two days ago, and as little as he thought it likely that he would find any proper time to sit and start going back through it, he'd stuck it in his bag.

"Can I read it?" Marianne asked, and she held it with such reverence that he found it impossible to tell her no. He reiterated the fact that it was a first draft, that it was not the final text, and she understood all that just fine. She didn't mind it at all. She had been so invested in this new book of his, part of the research process, and she couldn't wait.

"Are you going to leave me notes in the margins?" he asked her, grinning.

"I can do that?" she asked back. He shrugged. Why not? "Maybe," she reflected. "But not now. I just want to read it to read it."

"Then you do that," he told her, and there was that smile again. At eleven, raised as a lover of stories as she had been, she was getting to be such a reader, and he wouldn't be surprised if she just flew through the pages… or a part of him hoped she would at least. But he could also see her taking her time, really sitting in what she read to take it in, and to look at the way she held on to the wrapped document, he had a good feeling that she would go that way. She wouldn't get to start right away, and he watched her consider where to leave it while they left the tent, to keep it safe.

He felt that way about that first draft, too. The last stretch of writing for it had happened over several days where it was as though Maya's flight of creativity had touched him, too, and the words had just kept coming. It felt easier, maybe, as all the loose threads were able to come together, meeting at a point and creating the end. Either way, when he stopped and saw that he had actually reached the ending, he had to sit back, and breathe… His heart almost felt lighter all of a sudden, now that he'd told the story that he'd needed to tell. He wasn't done, and he would have to go back through it a few times over before it was actually ready to be printed for publication, but he'd made it this far, doing this thing that had felt so important to him from the moment he had started. It had started out as one thing in his head and, over time, had become so much more for him. It had been important to his family, too, at home and beyond, and he was eager to share it with all of them, too. He was happy at the idea of Marianne being the first to hold this first draft, the first to read it all from start to end, because she'd been there in the research, yes, but also just because she was his firstborn, the one they'd given his grandmother's name to, who carried Marianne Sullivan's legacy in her like no other now that his mother had passed… He always said how much he felt that his grandmother would have loved her so much if she'd gotten to know her, and now that he'd gotten to know his grandfather – through all that he'd found about him – he was certain that he would have bond with his Annie, too.

"Can I leave it on the bus?" she finally turned to him again and he laughed.

"Yeah, I was going to suggest that, too," he admitted, so they left the tent again with the bag. He could see how much she wanted to look inside already, to sit and start to read like she no longer cared that they were on the camping trip she'd been waiting for so eagerly that she'd wanted to pack half her room. They got on the bus, and there again she looked unsure about where to put this precious item. Lucas had to make a suggestion and she finally placed it there and followed him back out.

"I can't believe you finished it already," Marianne told him. "I mean, I know you did, I held it and all, but it's a lot of pages, and you did all that…" she reflected. She was clearly so impressed by the fact that he'd written this book, and he didn't know that anything could make him feel quite as accomplished in this fact as her face did in that moment. "I love that there's so many of us that make things that are out there… or will be out there…"

"Maybe you'll make something that will be out there someday, too," Lucas smiled at her, and he could see the thoughts flitting through her mind, liking the idea very much but also wondering what her something could ever be. He kind of liked that for her for the moment. Endless possibilities. She was still so young, and seeing the world like that… He couldn't think of any better view for his curious girl.

Right now, that also included just enjoying this camping trip on a sunny August day. They were all as lake ready as the time it would take to peel away anything that wasn't their swimming things, and they were off in the water. Lucas had watched Marianne run off with some of the other girls, the better to jump off the dock, and the fact that she was as tall if not taller than some of them could only work overtime to highlight the fact that she was growing up so fast, but at the same time, she was living her best preteen life, and that was all that mattered, that and how she insisted for him to hurry up and join her.

He had scars, still, after his attack, and the surgeries he had needed. He wasn't all that insecure about them, but he could see, in those instances where his scars would be out in the open for people to notice, how uncomfortable they would look, or overly curious, or both. Some of the campers definitely noticed, but he didn't stop to give them the whole story. He just went swimming with his daughter. She'd had more than enough time to see the scars, to be startled by them and eventually to reluctantly get used to them. By now, they might as well have been invisible for how much she saw them. They were just a part of him, and they stood as proof that, after what he'd been through, he was still there, and he was alright.

"They're looking, aren't they?" Marianne quietly asked him. He nodded. "Let's play a game so they'll forget, yeah?" she suggested, and he laughed, splashing her just a little to make her squeal and swim back with a laugh of her own before heading for the other campers and getting the game going.

The game did what Marianne had hoped it would do, and they all had a great time in the water before eventually climbing out to go dry up a bit. They went again later on, after which they all gathered around the campfire, to warm up and enjoy the night as it was slowly coming on. This was always his favorite part of these trips, and it was Marianne's, too, since the first time they'd taken her on one of them. She was so like her mother in this, as her staples of a successful campfire included spooky stories and most importantly songs. She'd brought along her own personal guitar, and she'd retrieved it before making her way out to sit on her chosen log around the fire. The others were treated to the sound of her voice, and most of them joined in at one time or another. Not all of them could sing on key, but it didn't matter. If anything, it made things better, made people laugh and just enjoy the moment.

Lucas was happy to see how much they had all taken to having her there with them. She couldn't help but stand apart for being his daughter, for not spending all of her nights and early mornings at the bed and breakfast with the rest of them, and he knew that part of her had worried that it would make them treat her differently, but it had been the opposite. She was part of the group, and no one could deny it. The way they would greet her arrivals in the morning and her departures in the afternoon, it would feel more as though their group was incomplete so long as she wasn't there.

When the guitar had been handed over to one of the boys, trusted in his care, he went and played a few songs in turn, and after a moment, Lucas realized that Marianne was no longer around the fire. He scanned their surroundings and spied the bracelets she wore on both her wrists, glowing in the dark and showing her sneaking up to the bus. He knew what she was doing and he relaxed. The bag was safely retrieved and she came to sit with him again, holding his gaze as though to ask if it was okay, and he nodded. It was more than okay.

She sat there for the remainder of their evening around the fire, huddled so that she could see the words on the pages and completely immersed in what she was reading. Lucas could tell she was going at it slowly, and he smiled. She was so quietly content in what she was doing, and to know that this something was the tale he had chronicled, with her help… Some of the other campers wandered over after a while, wanting to know what she was reading, and Lucas took care to tell them – quietly – the better to leave Marianne undisturbed in her reading. When he came back to sit next to her, she leaned against him without a word, and he leaned to kiss the top of her head. The campers were singing loudly into the night again, which might have made it impossible for some people to go on reading anything, but Marianne looked like she didn't mind it at all. If anything, she looked cozier than when she'd sat in silence with her father's pages. For his part, Lucas was sure that, in years to come, if he heard these songs again, he would be taken right back to this time and place and the image of his baby girl, leaning against his arm and reading.

She hadn't gotten all that far, with how slowly invested she'd been, by the time they started to go and turn in for the night, but the way she carried it, he knew she wasn't done for the night. He reminded her that she would have to put it aside before long, and she promised she'd keep going only until she'd finished the chapter. She sat on sleeping back with a light, and she might have been a statue up until she needed to turn the page. When she sat up, the chapter finished, she looked at him like she was trying to find any room for an argument in favor of reading on into the next chapter.

"Hey, it's up to you, but I know how you get when you don't get enough sleep, and how much you like getting up early enough to see the sunrise…" he told her. They were at a standstill for a moment, and then she put the book into the bag, folded it over. It would stay close to her as she slept, and he fully expected to wake up and find her back at it when morning came.

Lying down in his sleeping bag and allowing the sounds of the campsite and night to carry him off to sleep, Lucas thought about the time where he would be on the other side of the next steps for his book, when he would have the final text, when it would be printed, published, everything. He thought about the kids getting to hold it someday, knowing how much he had thought about them as he'd written it. They may not all have had his blood, the Sullivans' blood, but that did not matter. This was the story of their family, stories he had been told, others he'd had to find and research, stories of people he had not gotten to know, people they had not gotten to know or wouldn't get to remember. He thought of this book telling those same stories to his children's children, and theirs after that and imagined the stories any one of them could someday tell about his life, and Maya's, and their children's, carrying on the long tale of Sullivans of two trees, of Friars and Kendricks, of Friars and Hunters, Harts, and the forest they had grown together.

TO BE CONTINUED

See you tomorrow! - mooners