“He was sentenced to 15 years in jail.”
My eyes went wide.
“He might be able to get out early for good behavior,” Lucy went on.
Something broke inside me then. Like when a pebble hits a windshield and cracks it so slightly, but then the summer heat radiates on it and the crack just grows and grows until finally the entire window shatters. All of the emotions flowed into my chest cavity: anger, sorrow, fear, disbelief. I didn’t know what to say, so I remained silent as my aunt, who had always been so good to me, wept openly. Unable to look Matt in the face due to the shame and disgust I felt for my own family, I moved toward Aunt Lucy. We were not touchy-feely people, and although I knew this was probably an appropriate time for a hug, I made do by resting my hand gently on her shoulder. At this, she sat up straighter, wiped her eyes, and tried to pull herself together.
“We have so much to do,” Aunt Lucy explained. “You should probably start packing.”
“Packing?” This hit me harder than the information about my father.
“Yes, honey. I have to get in touch with your landlord, and then we’ll need to contact the movers. I need to get a room set up for you at my house, and I’ll need your help with that. Then I have to call the local high school and get you registered. I have no idea how to do any of it. I’ve never had kids,” she explained.
“Movers?” The gravity of the situation was trapped inside that one word.Of course, I can’t go back to live at home with no parents. That makes sense. Maybe I could live with Matt?
But, no. This was too much to put on Matt’s family. His father already had high blood pressure and had recently developed diabetes. I couldn’t expect them to handle an extra kid in their home, not only financially, but emotionally and from a logistical standpoint. Lucy was right. Her plan was probably the only plan that would make any sense. My mind swirled, but still, no tears.
“You can’t move,” Matt said. “There’s got to be something we can do.” His eyes looked wild, like a caged, scared animal.
“She has to,” Lucy explained. “I’m her legal guardian now.”
Right.“Can I at least stay here until the end of the summer?” I asked.
Aunt Lucy dabbed her eyes, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. There’s no way I can clean out your parents’ house—your house—without your help. And I want to get it done before the summer ends, so that you’re all settled at my place before the school year starts.”
Matt cleared his throat. “Then I’ll come with you,” he offered.
I considered this, but Aunt Lucy spoke up. “I’m planning to hire movers, but thank you, Matt.”
“What about camp? My cabin? They need me. For ratios,” I explained, referring to staff-to-camper ratios mandated by the Department of Health.
“They’ll figure it out. They already know. I called this morning and spoke to the director. Pat, was it? He was very understanding.” She blew her nose.
"I can't leave them without saying goodbye," I replied. "It's supposed to feel like a family," I explained, quoting a favorite rule of Pat's. "My kids will be so upset." Panic rose in my throat, and I looked to Matt for back up.
"She's right," he agreed. "Her campers adore her. And it's not right for her to leave without saying goodbye."
As if on cue, Pat entered the office. "Ah," he said. His face crumpled for just a moment, but then he took a deep breath in an attempt to compose himself. "Hey there, Taylor. Matt." Pat nodded at him.
"Pat," I began. My eyes welled up.
"Now, now," he said, when my words got stuck in my throat.
"She should say goodbye to the girls in her cabin, right?" Matt asked, desperate to regain even the smallest amount of control over the situation.
Pat's round cheeks turned red. "Oh, bud," he began, stuffing his hands deep in the pockets of his worn out jeans. "I don't want them to see her like this. It'll set off a chain reaction, and we'll end up with scores of hysterical little girls. Sometimes, it's easier to just let someone go, and tell the kids they'll be back real soon."
I nodded, my eyes lowering to the dusty office floor.
"I'm gonna miss you, kid," Pat said. "I know you've had a rough go."
"Thank you for the job," I replied. "I'm sorry if I let you down."
"Taylor," he whispered, shaking his head. "You come back next summer. There will always be a spot for you here." He laid his heavy hand on my shoulder. "You go on, now. Matthew, you help her get all set. I'll make sure you get to have lunch after."
"Okay," Matt agreed.
We left the office, trekked past the din of everyone eating in the Lodge and went to Cabin Three. Quietly, we packed up my things. I grabbed my towels off the clothesline outside, took down the photographs of me and Matt and the one old one of my mom that I’d kept thumbtacked to the wall next to my bed. Matt rolled up my little tealarea rug and Aunt Lucy stripped my bed, folding the sheets, blanket, and sleeping bag. I wrapped the beach glass jar with one of the towels from the clothesline and placed it in my footlocker between the neatly folded piles of shorts and T-shirts. I looked around. It took 20 minutes to pack up an entire life from the six-by-eight space I called my own at camp.
