He gulps his food, and then explains, “It’s uh—it’s some work-camp thing my guidance counselor suggested might be good for me this summer. Ya know, like a job. He thinks it could keep me busy and out of trouble, I guess.” He shrugs.
I try to look over the paperwork, but the mention of the guidance counselor thing has me kind of taken aback. I guess I should at least be happy he’s talking tosomeone, and that someone has a real idea of ways to keep him out of trouble. I just wish I’d have been that person he talked to.
And another thing, this summer camp—it’s all the way over in Alder Notch. That’s clear across the state. What the heck am I going to do if he gets in trouble way out there? Drive five hours one-way out to pick him up from some podunk lock-up, where there are no O’Reilly’s or Gunderson’s to cut him some slack?
“I’m already signed up,” Petro notes. “My mom called the guy who owns the place. Says he’s looking for some high schoolers who want to be camp counselors. Basically babysitting, but hey”—he shrugs—“get to leave town for a couple months and earn a little money. Just gotta make sure the kiddies don’t run off into the woods, right?”
Colton chuckles at Petro, then peers through his shaggy hair at me. “Maybe I can save up to pay for driver’s ed? All my friends have their licenses.”
I grunt. “It wasn’t the cost of driver’s ed that deterred me, son. It was the lack of responsibility.”
His chewing slows as he mulls that over a bit, scowling. “Getting a summer job could show you I can be responsible…”
“I could ask that we work together,” Petro offers helpfully. “What’s one more kid to babysit?” He leans in and playfully nudges Colt with his shoulder.
Colton shoves him back, but not with any malice, with something I haven’t seen on him in a long time—playful grin. He sweeps the long strands of black hair, which he normally has spiked up into a faux-hawk, off his face, and asks me again. “Can I?”
I sigh, flipping the paper up to give it another once over.
Camp Healing Waters: A summer camp for adolescents dealing with grief. Co-owned and operated by Brooks Gallagher, LCSW.
You’re invited to a work-camp experience in the woods of Western Maine! Located on majestic Mahoosuc Lake, Camp Healing Waters aims to help children overcome grief and hardship in a restorative and adventure-filled setting, where therapy doesn’t have to feel like therapy.
Campers who attend Camp Healing Waters love the friendships they make, the activities we partake in, and the sessions we offer that provide them with tools for successful coping.
As a work-camper, we are looking for someone with these missions in mind, to make the experience fun and safe for our campers. Lifeguard training will be provided at no cost. Room, board, and meals will be provided, along with a fixed bi-weekly stipend.
Come see what fun we can have this camping season at Camp Healing Waters!
I glance up at Colton, who is biting at the lip piercing I let him get and expectantly waits for my answer. “Let’s see how you do the next couple of months at school. Give me a chance to email this Brooks guy, and we can chat about it from there, okay?”
My son’s expression falls, and I am suddenly confused. I guess I hadn’t expected him to want this so badly. Maybe I’ll contact the owner tonight and see what I can find out about the place. I can gauge this guy's thoughts on having my son employed there for two and a half months. About having someone who acts so childishly himself in charge of other children.
“It wasn’t a ‘no,’ Colt,” Petro says, dipping his head to meet Colt’s eyes. “My mom even reached out to the camp owner first, before she decided I could go.”
“Least you have a mother,” Colt huffs, dropping his fork on his plate, and pushing up from the table. He storms off to his room, slamming the door behind him. In an apartment as tiny and sparsely furnished as this one, the one we moved into after his mother passed, it reverberates like a gunshot.
I’m sure I’ll hear about his latest outburst from the general store owner downstairs.
Petro gently sets his fork down and looks down at his feet. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I tell him earnestly. “You’ve done more than I could have asked for lately, just by being there for him.”
“Can I just say, I really think you should let him do this,” he murmurs, peering back up at me. Nervousness plays in his features now. “I promise I won’t let him get in trouble. It’s cuz of me, anyway…”
And before I can even make heads or tails of that statement, he stands, quickly thanks me for supper, grabs his things, and heads out the door in a flash.
“I promise I won’t let him get in trouble.”Petro’s words echo in my mind. On that, I clear the rest of the table, start the dishwasher, pour myself my usual nightly three fingers of bourbon, and pull up a blank email on my laptop. Let’s hope you’re right, kid, because, despite my doubts about Colton’s lack of maturity, I get a feeling that letting him go for the summer might be a good thing.
Maybe some time away from me will do him good after all, since all we do is bicker.
Chapter Four
Morgan lets the screen door slap shut behind her, her duffle bag thrown over her shoulder, as she pulls up next to me on the porch. She rests her fists on her hips and sucks in a deep breath, looking out towards the driveway like a teenaged Wonder Woman. I smirk before blowing on my steaming mug of coffee.
She pretty much is a Wonder Woman. It’s a look I saw all too often on Ryann, before her addictions stole all that confidence away from her. Every day, I cherish the glimpses of what used to be a vibrant and healthy Ryann that I see in Morgan. It renews my spirit to know that, while I am constantly plagued with feeling like I didn’t do enough for my sister then, I am now.
It also fills me with a feeling of dread, because it was at this age, when the Ryann we knew really started to fall apart.
