“I hope you’re feeling better,” he said.
I had a split-second debate in my head and said, “Yeah, I had horrible cramps and a headache for most of trip day.”
I watched Teddy’s face to see if he understood. “Oh, yes, your menses.”
I laughed. “Yes, my menses. My father used to ask me if I was ‘unwell.’ I told him I was perfectly well, but I had my period, although yesterday I was indeed unwell.”
Teddy blew three perfect smoke rings toward the twinkling stars. “I’m happy you’re feeling better. I missed your company last night.”
I took a drag and smiled at him. He held my gaze.
“Lori, I’m not very good at making friends. You know, not just a sports buddy. Someone I can talk to about things, real things. I consider you a friend.”
His vulnerability pierced my heart. The night was clear, and the moon was shining on his face. How’d I miss those striking green eyes? He was so easy to talk to, and I trusted him. “Yes, I also consider you a friend.”
He continued, “Maybe we can meet more often. I like telling you about my day and was disappointed I wouldn’t hear about yours. I was hoping you felt the same way.”
In a short time, Teddy had become more than a work colleague; he was my confidant. He always gave helpful advice, andI enjoyed his company. Plus, his voice and his accent were music to my ears. “Yes, I’d like that.”
I was having trouble falling asleep, so I openedTheBoy Scout Handbookand started to read by flashlight. I even pulled the covers over my head for authenticity. For my own personal satisfaction, I learned in detail how to build a fire in the wilderness where there were no flues to be found.
The next day started with choice period, which meant that the campers were scattered throughout the campus. I spent as much time as I could at theGreaserehearsal because Hazel was cast as Frenchie, the beauty school dropout.
The campers seemed oblivious to the fact that they were performing in a sauna, their hair matted down, T-shirts sticking to their backs. Despite it all they were smiling and singing their hearts out. I, on the other hand, was sweltering by the back door, hoping for a breeze. Sliding over the wooden bench to move closer to an open window, I felt a sharp pain in my leg.
“Ouch!”
A piece of wood lodged in the back of my thigh.
Maggie was across the field outside of arts & crafts demonstrating how to twist embroidery floss into friendship bracelets. Limping over, I showed her the injury.
“I could probably get that out for you, but it would be smarter if you went to the infirmary so they can pull it with sterile tweezers and bandage you up with Bacitracin,” Maggie said.
“Do you really think that’s necessary?”
“As the self-appointed guardian for you this summer, absolutely.”
I hugged her. “Thanks, Mom. While I’m there, maybe I can score us ice pops.”
“You know they only hand out ices to patients if they don’t cry,” Maggie said.
“I will do my best to be stoic.”
“In that case get me cherry.”
As I passed the theater, the ensemble was attempting, “We Go Together.” Humming along, I limped my way to the infirmary, swatting away the ever-present gnats andschvitz-ing with the effort. It had to be over a hundred degrees in the shade.
“Hi, Lori, what brings you here?” Nurse Ella asked.
“There’s a piece of the theater embedded in my leg.” I turned around, showing her my right thigh.
“Sit down, take a load off. I’ll get the tweezers.”
My shirt was drenched under the knapsack. I slipped it off my shoulders and untied the bandana I kept on the bag. “Can I get some ice from your freezer?” I placed one cube in the kerchief and tied it around my neck; another cube nestled in my cleavage, kept in place by my sports bra.
“That’s a brilliant idea, sticking an ice cube down your shirt. I’ll have to recommend that to the counselors,” Ella said. “But what will we suggest to the guys, stick it in their jockstrap? Which reminds me . . .” She knocked on the bathroom door. “Is everything okay in there?”
We heard a muffled grunt and then, “Yeah, almost done.”
