Out of five hundred campers, there were only five kids still waiting, and two of them were ours. My heart sank—I wondered if they had thought their dad wouldn’t show. Zelda’s arms were crossed, resembling her impatient dad; Hazel appeared dejected. But as soon as they saw him, they flew across the field and jumped into his arms. They were hugging and talking over each other, vying for his attention.
All activities were open to the families. I couldn’t spend the morning with mine because I had to be available to chat with the parents. For the past week, the Bergers had pounded into us that the most important job of the day was leading the parents to the office so they could re-up for next summer.
“I’ll see you at lunch,” I said.
“You’re not coming with us?” Ronnie seemed surprised.
“I can’t. I’m working.”
“Can’t you take the day off?”
I tried not to sound sarcastic when I said, “You, of all people, should know how difficult it can be to change a schedule.”
He gave me a feeble smile and turned to the kids. “So, what should we do first?”
Abby and I met up to search out parents to schmooze.
“How’s Barry doing?” I asked.
“Honestly, I’m shocked he’s not complaining. I think hemisses us so much that he’s on his best behavior,” Abby said.
“Ronnie’s thrilled to be with the girls. It’s also good for our husbands to see what we do and where we do it.”
“You’re right, I’m pretty sure Barry thinks I play mah-jongg all day.”
The campers were spread throughout the grounds with their parents in tow, so we decided to start at the gymnastics shed and work our way back up the hill. We walked down together, smiling, in our matching uniforms with our name tags prominently displayed. We were told to boast about how wonderful camp was, how happy their children were, and how lucky they were to be a part of the Woodlands family. Issues that we couldn’t handle would go to Bethany.
“I’d be surprised if there were problems we couldn’t solve. I mean, no one knows them better than we do,” Abby said.
“I’m relieved. I don’t want to be the reason a family decides not to send their child back next summer.”
“Yeah, I see your point.”
There were sneakers, sandals, and a pair of stilettos piled up outside the gym. Why anyone would wear heels to walk around a camp was beyond my comprehension.
I saw the mother of the twins Rachel and Rebecca. She stood out from the rest of the parents in her long floral skirt and gauzy top. Her hair was dark with wiry gray strands running through. Her husband, who was mostly bald with a silver fringe that wrapped around the back of his head, wore trousers hiked up to his portly waist.
“I can’t help but notice that my twins are no longer identical,” she said.
“What do you mean? I sometimes have trouble telling them apart,” I said.
“Can’t you see how much bigger Rachel is than her sister?”
I knew exactly what she was talking about—yesterday at the lake when they were standing together in their matching bikinis, I noticed how much thicker Rachel was around the middle.
She gripped my arm, pulled me away from everyone else, and shrilly whispered in my ear, “Can’t you see that Rachel has gotten fat?”
“I’m sure when you have them home, you’ll get them back on track.”
“You don’t understand. They’re bridesmaids in their cousin’s wedding over Labor Day weekend. They must fit into their very expensive gowns.” She put her fists on her hips and frowned at me, as though I personally made it my mission to shove sweets down her daughter’s throat. “You’re going to have to put Rachel on a diet.”
I was relieved that this was one of those situations that were above my pay grade.
“You should go to the office and speak to Marilyn . . . she’ll be able to help you.”
As I walked up the hill, I thought about Teddy and felt my cheeks blush again. His ex wasn’t coming today. Teddy thought Max would be okay with his mother being a no-show, that he understood the dynamics of his situation, but still it had to be difficult when everyone else’s mother was here.
I continued to the soccer field, up to the volleyball net, then stood in the limited shade of the tennis courts, where I met Ashley’s mom, who was petite and dressed in tennis whites complete with a sun visor and the requisite tennis bracelet. I couldn’t help but notice the charm hanging around her tanned neck—the spherical diamond set on a gold racket sparkled in the sun. With her slim muscular arms, she looked more like a tennis pro than the camp’s coach did.
