Sweet Serendipity

Pickles

Today was the day, I decided. The day I left my comfortable home, my comfortable (not really) family, and my overly comfortable bed. Why? So I can spend the next six weeks in a cramped cabin, with awkward people, and an hard old bed. 

Sometimes, I question my sanity. 

Taking one last look at my room, I grabbed my two suitcases full of summer clothing and books and walked into the living room. 

"All ready, hon?" My mom inquired, her eyes shiny. 

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. 

Unsurprisingly, she did the same. 

My mother and I had always been alike. We had the same looks, long brown hair, brown eyes and naturally tan skin. But even our styles were similar with the black t-shirts, jeans and converse with the occasional sandals thrown in for summer. People often mistook us for siblings, but it was understandable. 

Everything about was the same, even our inability to express our feelings. Which, was taking place right now. 

We both made small, awkward smiles as we walked to the car and took off onto the 101 highway. 

The ride for the most part was silent, except for the occasional sharp intake of breath from one of us, meaning we had something to say, but was rendered silent in the end. 

Too soon-even though the drive was three hours long-the car was turning into the driveway of the camp. Thick rows of pine trees were on either side of us, and I unrolled the window to breathe in the fresh air. 

Then, the trees broke and you could see the lake. Saying the lake was beautiful was an understatement. It  shimmered gold wherever the sun touched it, and turned silver at night. What made it even more gorgeous was the the mountain, Thunder Mountain, behind it. It stood some 9,000 ft, and made the entire camp looked like a fairy-tale.

I sighed in content and looked to the right where the giant sign said in script lettering "Camp Silver Lake". 

That's it. I'm doing this. No turning back now. 

I heard my mom sigh as she pulled up to the main building, an old cabin with a dark green roof, and backed into a parking space. 

"Honey-"She began, not knowing nor trusting what to say next. 

I felt my throat start to constrict, the tears I'd been suppressing for hours now emerging.

"I'll miss you mom," I finally managed to croak. 

"I'll miss you too," She reached over and gave me a tight hug. 

Pulling away, I could see the tears in her eyes threatening to spill over. "Mom-"

She shook her head, "Stop." 

So I did. 

"I'll see you in six weeks," I said, and climbed out of the car. 

We waved to each other, and I watched the car drive down the gravel road until it was just a speck in the earth. 

"Here goes everything," I muttered as I walked into the building, my luggage rocking on the uneven rocks behind me. 

The second I opened the door to the office, the familiar scent of daisies and tea leaves perhaps (I never could figure out what it was) washed over me, along with all the memories of past summers spent here. 

The elderly woman at the desk looked up when the little bell above the door rang, and I swear her eyes sparkled when she saw me. 

"Oh Brooke dear, is that you?" She asked, hope and excitement evident in her voice.