“Come here often?” I asked.
“Yes, especially on sweltering summer afternoons.”
We stopped, oars across our laps, enjoying the peacefulness.
“I swear each summer goes by faster and faster. Tomorrow’s Visiting Day, so we’re at the halfway point. How’s the summer been going for you? Do you think you’ll be back next year?” Mindy asked.
“I don’t see a placard on your kayak saying ‘psychiatrist is in,’” I said.
“I’m here for you whether we’re on the lake holding paddles or in my room holding a glass of wine. If you want to talk, you have my full attention.”
I felt close to Mindy—she’d been incredibly supportive from the beginning with advice about dealing with the campers, Bethany, and the Bergers. Looking around I saw that we were in that sweet spot where it was too far for the swimmers and too reedy for the boats.
“I never envisioned myself working at a sleepaway camp. I have to say there were some rough patches in the beginning, but it’s been fun being with the campers, meeting you and the other women. Plus, Zelda and Hazel love it here. If Jack wasn’t running the camp, I think this could be an idyllic place.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Bergers are lousy bosses. They don’t inspire or encourage us. On the contrary, they do their best to point out our faults.”
We floated aimlessly for a bit and then Mindy said, “Thanks for telling me that. I hadn’t looked at things through your eyes. I’m always getting feedback from Bethany, Bob, and the Bergers, so it’s interesting to see things from your point of view.”
“And?”
“I can see the dysfunction. Perhaps I can find a way to work with Jack and Marilyn to fix it before next summer.”
“It won’t matter for me ’cause I’m sure there’s no way the Bergers will ask me back, and between you and me, that’s a good thing. I’ll just have to figure out something else for my kids to do next summer.”
“Don’t be so quick to decide. A lot happens over the course of a year. People change, your needs change, we all change for whatever reason. I mean, look at me. If you told me I’d end up spending more than half my life here, I would’ve had you committed, but now it’s part of who I am.”
Not for a second did I think that Woodlands could become a permanent part of my life. We floated in silence before I voicedthe question that was really on my mind. “You’ve known Teddy for a long time, right?” I asked.
“Who?”
“Ted. I mean Ted.”
I was flustered for a second. Saying Teddy aloud felt as if I’d revealed my private thoughts about him.
“I’ve known him for well over ten years and he’s always been Ted, just plain, dependable Ted. Does he know you call him Teddy, and he lets you get away with that?” Mindy asked.
“He was surprised at first, but yeah, he’s okay with it.”
“The best way to describe him is that he’s an enigma. He said he was married, though I never met her or saw a photo, but there is a kid. He doesn’t gossip, complain, or flirt. I know he does a good job and gets on well with his campers and counselors. He’s been sitting on my floor for years and every so often you get a snarky comment from him. But I can’t say I really know him.”
Yesterday I would’ve said Mindy’s estimation of Teddy was spot on, but now I wasn’t so sure—the way he kissed my hand last night and how he’d just looked at me.
“Sometimes he’s quite charming,” I said.
“You only think that because he has a British accent.”
I laughed. “You’re probably right.”
A flotilla of sailboats filled with squealing Cubs drifted toward us.
“Lori, look at me, I’m a sailor!”
“You certainly are!”
They were excited to see me in the water with them and started waving and vying for my attention.
