Chapter Eight

We can't be good at everything…

Meg

"Fore!" Alice yelled as she lined up her shot.

"Stop yelling fore, you're scaring the children," Paige called out from a few holes down, her voice carrying over the laughter and chatter of our group.

Alice smirked as she whacked her tiny lavender ball. We all watched as it soared into the air, ricocheted off a large boulder with a sharp *ping*, and landed gracefully on the green, just four feet from the hole. The woman was a mini-golf savant, even if she acted like she was just fooling around.

"How in the hell does she do that?" Lennox sighed, shaking her head in disbelief. "She hits the hell out of it, and almost gets it right into the hole."

Alice grinned mischievously, blowing on the end of her putter like it was a smoking gun before pretending to sheath it in an imaginary belt. "It's just talent, honey," she said with a wink.

It was my turn. I stared down at the ball on the tee, trying to summon whatever magic Alice seemed to possess. Maybe if I channeled her energy, I'd actually manage to make it in the hole this time instead of sending the ball on a cross-country adventure.

Mini golf had never been my forte, but I'd never sucked as bad as I was today. We were on hole nine of the campground's eighteen-hole mini golf course, and so far, I'd been consistent only in my ability to overshoot the mark by a mile.

I dropped my ball onto the tee and squared up with it, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes on me. "Come on, Meg," Cyn called from down by the hole, her voice encouraging. "You can do it!"

Taking a deep breath, I tried to visualize the ball rolling smoothly into the hole. I could see it in my mind's eye: a perfect arc, the ball bouncing once, maybe twice, and then dropping right in, easy as pie. Feeling bolstered by the image, I took a rather strong swing.

Unfortunately, visualization was apparently not my thing.

The ball flew into the air, soaring over the green in what could only be described as a spectacular display of overcompensation. Instead of hitting the rock and rolling near the hole like Alice's had, mine launched itself clear over the entire course and disappeared into the woods with a distant thud.

"Son of a bitch!" I cussed, throwing my hands up in the air in frustration.

Greta whistled low, clearly impressed by my ability to send a tiny ball into orbit. "Well, I can say with all confidence, you hit the hell out of that, Meg. Maybe we should find a par three course for you. I bet you could hit the ball at least two hundred feet."

I shot Greta a half-hearted glare before raising my middle finger in her direction. "I think I need to start drinking," I muttered, sliding my sunglasses over my eyes. "I think that would help."

Alice stifled a laugh as she sauntered over, clapping me on the back. "You might be onto something there. A few drinks and you'll be sinking holes-in-one like a pro."

"Or at least I'll stop caring where the ball lands," I grumbled, still staring at the spot where my ball had vanished into the trees.

"That's the spirit," Alice teased, looping her arm through mine as we walked down to where her ball had landed. "But honestly, Meg, you've got power. You just need to harness it."

"Yeah, like the Hulk," Lennox joked. "All that rage and nowhere to put it but in the ball."

"You're all hilarious," I deadpanned, though I couldn't help the small smile that tugged at my lips. "But seriously, I think I might need to go on a ball retrieval mission."

"Or we can just let nature keep it as a souvenir," Alice suggested. "I think it's earned it."

Cyn patted me on the shoulder sympathetically. "You know, there's no shame in admitting defeat. Mini golf isn't for everyone."

"No kidding," I said, shaking my head. "It's supposed to be fun, but right now, it feels like a personal attack."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better," Paige chimed in, "I'm pretty sure you could take on a real golf course and crush it. Just imagine driving the ball that far."

"Yeah, imagine the property damage," I muttered, making everyone laugh.

"Come on, let's finish up the course, and then we'll hit the bar," Alice said, still grinning. "Maybe they have one of those spiked lemonades golfers like to drink."

"Don't all people like spiked lemonade?" Greta mumbled.

"That's the best idea I've heard all day," I agreed, feeling a little more cheerful at the thought of a cold drink waiting at the end of this mini golf gauntlet.

As we continued to play through the course, my luck didn't exactly improve, but at least I managed to keep the rest of my shots on the green. Cyn made sure to cheer me on every time, and even Alice threw in a few words of encouragement, though I could tell she was having a hard time keeping a straight face.

By the time we reached the eighteenth hole, I was ready to throw in the towel. Or the putter. Or maybe both.

"I'll just watch you all finish up," I said, plopping down on a nearby bench. "My ego can't take any more bruising today."

"You sure?" Greta asked, tilting her head at me. "This is the last hole. It's your final chance to redeem yourself."

"Nope, I'm good," I said, waving her off. "You all go ahead."

Alice stepped up to take her shot, effortlessly sinking the ball in one smooth stroke, of course. She turned to me with a playful grin. "You sure you don't want to give it one last try? Maybe I can give you some pointers."

I shook my head, laughing. "I think I'll just take a page from your book and stick to what I'm good at—cooking and baking."

"Well, you're definitely good at that," Alice agreed, giving me a wink.

"Yeah, yeah," I said, rolling my eyes. "We can't all be mini golf prodigies like Alice here."

Alice just shrugged, clearly not fazed by the ribbing. "What can I say? Some people are just naturally talented."

"Don't let it go to your head, Alice," Paige said, taking her turn and sinking her ball with relative ease.

"Hey, I'm just here to have fun," Alice said with a grin, raising her hands in mock surrender. "And to support my friends in their endeavors. Even if those endeavors involve launching golf balls into the wilderness."

"Support noted," I said dryly, but I couldn't help but smile. Despite my less-than-stellar performance, I was having fun. And that was what this trip was all about.

Once everyone finished the course, we gathered our things and headed towards the bar, where the promise of spiked lemonade awaited us.

When we reached the bar, we settled into two booths, and I immediately ordered a large spiked lemonade, determined to drown my mini golf sorrows in something cold and refreshing. As I took my first sip, I sighed in contentment.

"Better?" Alice asked, raising an eyebrow as she sipped her own drink.

"Much," I said, nodding. "This is exactly what I needed."

"To surviving mini golf," Lennox said, raising her glass in a toast.

"To my purple ball lost in the woods," I added, clinking my glass against hers.

"To whatever's next on this crazy trip," Paige said, joining in.

We all raised our glasses, smiling at each other. This trip might have been full of unexpected moments—some more successful than others—but it was exactly what I needed.

And even though I might not have won any mini golf trophies, I knew I'd be going home with something far more valuable: the kind of memories that would make me smile every time I thought of them.

Alice

"S'mores?" Cyn's voice was full of hope as she looked over at me.

"I brought all the goodies. We've just been full every night," I pointed out, flashing her a grin.

Meg held up her hands in mock surrender. "I'm sorry you guys like my food so much," she joked, her eyes twinkling with humor.

I jumped up from my chair, a sudden burst of energy taking over. "Well, tonight is the night!" I announced, darting towards the camper. It was about time we indulged in some s'mores, and of course, since I was in charge, I had a little twist planned.

As I rummaged through the cabinets inside the camper, I couldn't help but feel a bit giddy. Sure, classic s'mores were great, but I wanted to take things up a notch. After gathering everything I needed, I made my way back outside, the cool evening air nipping at my skin.

I emerged from the camper holding a tray loaded with graham crackers, marshmallows, and a few special additions. The girls' eyes lit up as I approached the fire pit.

"Do I want to know why you have that smirk on your face?" Cyn asked, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

I set down the usual graham crackers and marshmallows, letting them catch a glimpse of the familiar comforts, but then I held up three packs of candy bars with a triumphant flourish.

"Uh, those don't look like chocolate bars," Wendy pointed out, eyeing the candy with curiosity.

"We're doing s'mores with a bit of a twist," I explained, savoring the suspense before revealing the goods. I held up the first pack. "Reese's Peanut Butter Cups." There were a few appreciative nods. I dropped those onto the table and picked up the next pack. "Cookies ‘n' Creme bars." The interest was definitely growing. And then, with a grin, I grabbed the last pack. "And the one I am really excited for—Kit Kats."

"Oh," Lennox gasped, her eyes widening with delight. "Can I just have a Cookies ‘n' Creme bar? I don't need the marshmallow or graham crackers." She made grabby hands, and I couldn't resist tossing her a candy bar.

"You don't know what you're missing by not making it a s'more," I teased, but Lennox was already ripping open the candy bar.

She tossed a piece into her mouth with a satisfied hum. "I can always make a s'more when I'm done with this," she said between bites.

"Well, I guess I'm up for trying something new," Meg said as she approached the table, eyeing the assortment of candy bars. She grabbed a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup. "I'm going to try each of them, but we'll start here."

With the new candy choices laid out, the girls all gathered around the fire pit, ready to roast their marshmallows. The flames crackled and popped, casting a warm, golden glow over us as we skewered the marshmallows onto sticks.

Meg carefully rotated her marshmallow over the fire, ensuring it turned a perfect golden brown. "This is the kind of science I can get behind," she said, grinning as she watched it puff up.

Wendy was already opening up the graham crackers, lining them up on a napkin for easy access. "I've never had s'mores with anything other than milk chocolate bars," she mused. "This is going to be interesting."

As the marshmallows roasted to gooey perfection, the girls began assembling their s'mores. Cyn went for the Kit Kats, carefully breaking them into sticks and laying them across her graham cracker. "Okay, I have high hopes for this," she said, her tone half-serious, half-amused.

Meg squished a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup between her marshmallow and graham crackers, the chocolate edges starting to melt. "This is going to be so good," she murmured, her mouth practically watering.

I watched them all with a smile, feeling proud of my little twist on the classic treat. As each of them bit into their s'mores, a chorus of "ohs" and "ahs" filled the air.

"Wow, the peanut butter with the marshmallow is amazing," Meg said, savoring her bite. "I think I might have a new favorite."

Wendy had opted for the Cookies ‘n' Creme bar, her eyes widening as she tasted the combination. "This is so sweet, but in the best way," she said, licking a bit of melted marshmallow from her fingers. "Why didn't we think of this sooner?"

Cyn nodded enthusiastically, her Kit Kat s'more already half gone. "This is so good! The crunch from the Kit Kat with the gooey marshmallow is perfect."

Lennox finally caved and made herself a proper s'more with the Cookies ‘n' Creme bar. "Okay, I get it now," she said, biting into her creation. "This is seriously next level."

I couldn't help but feel a little smug as I watched everyone enjoying the twist on the classic s'mores. There was something incredibly satisfying about seeing my friends delighted by something so simple yet so indulgent.

As we continued to roast marshmallows and experiment with the different candy bars, the conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and playful teasing. The night was cool, but the fire kept us warm, and the s'mores added that perfect touch of sweetness.

"Yup, mixing sugar and booze is not a good idea," Greta groaned as she finished her second s'more. "I might be crawling to bed real soon."

I laughed and shook my head. "At least it was delicious going down."

The conversation around the campfire had been lively all evening, but when Greta mentioned a cleanse, I couldn't help but stifle a laugh. The thought of our group embracing anything remotely resembling a cleanse was borderline ridiculous.

"I think we need to have a cleanse tomorrow. Did you pack a salad or something?" Greta asked Meg, her tone half-serious, half-hopeful.

Meg tipped her head to the side, considering the request. "Uh, well, does macaroni salad count?"

Greta's eyes lit up with excitement. "Your famous macaroni salad?" she asked, practically drooling at the thought. "That's not exactly light fare, but I'm down."

Meg laughed, nodding. "Yeah, three cups of mayo isn't exactly light," she agreed, a mischievous glint in her eye.

I wrinkled my nose, unable to resist teasing her. "Please tell me there's more in it than just mayo and macaroni."

Meg nodded confidently. "Oh, yeah. I call it my rainbow macaroni salad. Lots of veggies."

"And mayo," I pointed out with a smirk.

Meg shrugged, clearly unapologetic. "I suppose."

"It's good!" Cyn called out from across the campfire, her voice full of conviction. "Trust me, you'll be shoving some in your pockets to save for later."

Greta groaned, a playful smile on her face. "That was one time, and I didn't know what else to do! Don't you throw that in my face."

Meg and Cyn busted out laughing, the sound echoing in the quiet night. Their laughter was infectious, and soon, I found myself grinning along with them.

"Okay, I need to know the story behind this one," I said, leaning forward, eager for the tale.

Greta sighed, but there was a sparkle in her eye as she began. "Alright, alright. So, this was a few years back at one of the club parties. You know how it goes—drinks were flowing, and the food was just as abundant."

I nodded, imagining the scene. Club parties were always fun, with enough food and booze to feed an army.

"Well," Greta continued, "I had a plate full of food, but there was still more I wanted to try. But you know how it is, trying to juggle a drink, a full plate, and still mingle with everyone. I ran out of space on my plate, and my hands were full."

"So what did you do?" I asked, already laughing at where this was headed.

Greta grinned sheepishly. "I spotted a pile of napkins nearby and thought, ‘Why not?' I grabbed a napkin, loaded some of Meg's macaroni salad into it, and then... well, I shoved it in my pocket."

The group burst out laughing, the image of Greta sneaking macaroni salad into her pocket too funny to resist.

"Did it survive till you sat down?" I managed to ask between giggles.

"Not quite," Greta admitted, her cheeks flushing. "I forgot about it until I went to the bathroom and found a soggy mess in my pocket. It was... not my finest moment."

Cyn was practically in tears from laughing so hard. "I went in the bathroom after you, and there were three splotches of macaroni salad next to the toilet."

"I tried to clean it up," Greta insisted. "It just kept falling out of my pocket."

"I was flattered that you liked my macaroni salad so much that you wanted to save it for later," Meg giggled. "Just next time, I promise I'll get you a container."

Greta shook her head, laughing along with us. "Never again," she promised. "I'll just come back for seconds if I can't fit it on my plate."

"Oh, the stories we have," Meg sighed. She wiped a lone tear from her cheek. "We could sit out here all night and not be able to tell them all."

Greta held up her hands and stood. "And that is my cue to go to bed because I know half of those stories are going to be about me and Luna."

"Come on," Meg called. "You can't go to bed now. We old folks are still awake."

Greta flipped her hood up and wrapped her arms around herself. "Maybe you old fogies are onto something going to bed early. I'll give it a try."

Meg suddenly glanced at her phone, her eyes widening in surprise. "Oh, lord," she gasped, breaking the comfortable silence. "It's almost midnight. How did it get that late?"

I looked over at her, a bit surprised myself. Time had a funny way of slipping away when we were all together.

"What do you think would happen to me if I just slept in my chair?" Lennox moaned, her voice heavy with exhaustion. She looked like she could barely keep her eyes open, her head resting against the back of her chair. "I'm too tired to move."

Meg chuckled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I think you'll get eaten alive by mosquitoes," she teased. Then, with a sympathetic smile, she stood up and held her hand out to Lennox. "Come on, lil' mama, let's get you to bed."

Lennox groaned but took Meg's hand, allowing herself to be pulled out of the chair. She wobbled a little, and Meg steadied her with a gentle hand on her back.

"Ugh, you're right," Lennox admitted, rubbing her eyes. "I can feel them already coming to suck my blood."

"We don't need you turning into a midnight snack," I added with a grin, pushing myself up from my chair as well. The night air was cool against my skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of the fire. I felt a wave of contentment wash over me, the kind that only came after a day well spent.

The others started to follow suit, stretching and yawning as they prepared to head to bed. Cyn and Greta exchanged knowing looks, both clearly just as tired as the rest of us.

"Another good day and night in the books," Meg said, her voice filled with satisfaction as she slung an arm around Lennox's shoulders, guiding her toward the RV.

I nodded in agreement, looking around at my friends.

A good day indeed.