When his phone dings, he pulls it out and checks the screen, then asks the doctors to show me around the clinic until he returns.
The space is larger than I assumed it would be. The small waiting area is furnished with two comfortable-looking leather love seats, baskets filled with toys and books for children, and a television mounted on the wall. Behind the waiting area is a desk big enough for two people, though from the sound of things, Dr. Love is only here when Dr. Parsons isn’t.
Beyond the desk are two basic exam tables separated by a partition and a cot against the wall. The medical supplies organized beside the cot are clearly labeled and generously stocked as far as I can tell. Past that is a short hallway containing a private restroom, as well as a small refrigerator, a microwave, and a sink with minimal counter space.
The doctors offer me a run-down of the most common summertime injuries: falls, cuts and bruises, bee stings, rashes, sunburns, and heat stroke. Occasionally a concussion or a broken bone. Rarely an ambulance ride, they say.
“Seems simple enough.” I eye the door, noting that Asher hasn’t returned yet. “Do you like it here?” I ask. “Or rather, what’s the best part about working at the camp?”
“It’s like hanging out with family every day,” Dr. Parsons answers with a sincere smile. “That man”—he points to the door Asher stepped out of a few minutes ago—“is the hardest working fella you’ll ever meet. I’m ready to retire and move closer to my grandchildren, but heck if I won’t miss this place.” I swear his eyes shine with tears as he scans the space. “You’ll be happy, Claire.”
“It’s laid-back for the most part, and such a stunning property. Have you seen the lake yet?” Jessica asks.
“We’re headed there now.”
At the sound of Asher’s voice, I startle. I hadn’t heard him return.
Dr. Parsons shakes my hand and Jessica hugs me, gushing about looking forward to seeing me again soon.
Out on the paved sidewalk, Asher says, “I thought we could pick up lunch from the cafeteria, then eat by the lake. You can ask me any questions those two goofballs haven’t already answered. I hope they didn’t scare you off.” He chuckles, though there’s a hint of nervousness there.
“Definitely not. They seem really nice.”
In the cafeteria, employees are setting up a selection of breads, deli meats, and cheeses, along with vegetables for a build-your-own salad and sandwich bar. Asher greets everyone by name, passing me a takeaway container. Then he motions for me to serve myself first.
“Is there a retreat happening now?” I ask, using tongs to pick up a slice of bread.
“There is. It’s a week-long yoga teacher training course.”
My plate is nearly full after I’ve constructed my turkey sandwich with spinach, tomato, onion, and avocado, but I manage to squeeze in a bag of potato chips.
“Do you ever join in on any of the retreats?” I ask.
“No, but it is tempting. Some of them look really fun.”
“Maybe one day.” I smile, retrieving a bottle of water from a cooler.
Out back, he motions for me to hop into the golf cart parked nearby.
“It’s a bit of a walk to the lake. Do you mind holding this?” He sets his bottle of water in a cup holder next to mine and holds out his food container.
The sun is bright, and within minutes, I regret not grabbing my sunglasses from the car. We’re silent during the ride. I takethe time to survey the property, noting how well manicured it is. I swear there isn’t a single shrub overgrown.
Asher drives around the back of a couple of cabins and stops next to a picnic table and fire pit.
“This place is beautiful,” I say as I follow him to the table.
“Thank you.” He dips his chin. “It was all Jack and Natalie’s doing. My in-laws,” he clarifies.
Clearing his throat a little awkwardly, he points to the cabin behind us. “This is my place. I live here year-round, of course.” He motions to the cabin on the left. “That’s where Dr. Parsons stays for the summer, but during the year, my parents pop in and out.”
“Oh. How often?”
“They were here almost every week when my daughter Bea was younger. My dad owns his own tech company, so he can work remotely. Mom’s retired, so her schedule is pretty flexible, but now that they’ve moved into their dream apartment overlooking Central Park, they don’t stay as long as they used to. Andthat,” he points to the cabin on the right, “is where Jack and Natalie live.”
The home sits on a generous patch of grass that meets the shore of the lake. In the sand, a couple of beach chairs are set up, with toys lying around haphazardly. There’s a small Boston Whaler secured to the dock. In the distance are several Lasers and Sunfish sailboats, as well as a group of paddle boarders.A gaggle of paddle boarders? A pod of paddlers?
“What do you think?” Asher asks.
