“Everybody was gone,” Brett cried.
I rub her back. “We’re right here. It’s okay. Everybody’s okay.”
“And then I called Mommy, but she didn’t pick up either. I thought everyone left me here alone.” The wordalonerings out like a howl. I cock an eyebrow at Matt.
“We would never do that,” Matt whispers.
Brett sniffles, mumbling something that Matt can’t hear.
“What’s that, honey?” he asks.
“But Mommy did,” she repeats, clearer this time.
“She’ll be back, baby. I promise,” Matt says. “Soon enough. She’ll be back.”
Chapter twenty-three
7 Years Ago
The week leading up to staff training was busy and exhausting. I spent my days receiving and sorting supply shipments of craft items and sports equipment, creating and modifying cabin rosters, making sure all travel arrangements were solidified for the counselors from overseas, and planning the details of my staff trainings. Matt was busy painting cabins, fixing screens, repairing a section of the beach stairs, and stocking supplies for the washhouses and kitchen. The days were long and labor-intensive for both of us, and although we crossed paths on occasion, we were often so busy that there was very little free time to do anything other than shower and sleep.
I was also constantly working in close proximity with Pat, which offered me a vast education about what it took to run an operation of this scale. Everything I learned had a practical application. It was so much more useful than the theories and case studies I’d focused on in school.
The staff training would last six full days, with an added day for unit leaders only. Topics ranged from aquatics safety training to behavior management, parent communication to ADA compliance. Due to Pat’s advanced age and limited endurance for heat and standing for long periods of time, I would take the lead during most of the activetraining modules, leaving Pat as a bold-voiced cheerleader, something I wasn’t expecting when I took the job.
“You’re going to be great,” Pat assured me. “I have complete faith in you.”
“Thanks,” I replied, although his vote of confidence barely registered.
“Do you know why I hired you?” he asked.
I shook my head, sorting plastic rolls of lanyard by color into oversized Tupperware bins.
“You have camp in your blood. I remember when you were a little girl. I mean, you’re only a few years younger than Callie,” he said, wiping his brow with a bandana. “You used to come here to escape from the stuff you dealt with at home. And, don’t get me wrong, I’m sure I don’t know the half of it, but I know things weren’t easy for you there.”
I nodded, trying to block the memories from creeping into my head.
“I could tell that when you were here, you were happy. Front and center in the talent show, always here for the whole summer. This place was home for you.”
Pat was right, and I was touched by the fact that he noticed me like that. I figured my abrupt departure seven years ago may have had something to do with it, but back when I was little? “I’m surprised you even knew who I was.”
“Really?”
“I mean, there were a million kids over all those years.”
“You’re right. But I knew each and every one. I might not remember all their names, especially now that I’m old, but I definitely knew the eight-weekers.”
“Eight-weekers?”
“You know. The ones who come for the whole eight weeks,” he explained. “Eight weeks is a long time for a kid. Certainly long enough to have a real impact.”
Again, Pat hit the nail on the head. The impact of camp had been overwhelming for me. Especially in those moments where I felt sad or lost at home, I’d find myself counting the days until my return to camp and would instantly feel better.
“So that’s why I chose you,” he continued. “Because in my last year, I wanted to hire someone who would care about this place as much as I do. I want to leave it with someone who will help create that sense of home for future generations.”
I looked up at him from my station on the floor, surrounded by spools of lanyard. My head was heavy with the weight of Pat’s words.
“It’s the same reason I hired Matt.”
