10. Chapter 10
Chapter ten
“Music, ghost stories, and s’mores.”
Wes headed to the chip aisle and grabbed a bag of Fritos along with some hot Doritos. Bailey came up beside him. “Can I get some chips?”
“Get whatever you want.”
She took a bag of salt and vinegar chips. “Mom brought soda in the cooler, so we have that.”
“Okay. How about some jerky?”
“Yeah.”
“And…” He spotted an endcap with packaged pastries. “Some snowballs.” He took two packs.
Bailey laughed. “I thought you ate healthy. Or you look like you would.”
“I do. Except on a road trip. Do you want anything else?”
She studied the pastries, then picked up a pack of chocolate donuts. “Just these.”
Wes went to the coffee station and poured a large coffee, then took their bounty to the cashier. He used the twenty he had in his pocket, then took two more from his wallet and handed them to the cashier.
“I’ll put the balance in the tank.”
“Yes, sir.”
They returned to the car, and Bailey got into the backseat with the bag while Wes filled the Wagoneer with gas. Once they were back on the road, Bailey handed Cassandra the bag of Fritos.
“Thank you, honey.”
“What do you want, Mr. B?”
“Snowballs.”
Bailey handed them both to him, and he held one out to Cassandra. She looked at it for a moment, then smiled and took it from him.
“I didn’t know you liked those, Mom.”
“Well, it’s been a while.” She unwrapped the package and took a bite, then glanced at Wes. “Quite a while.”
Snacking helped the next two hours go by faster, and even though conversation was minimal, it wasn’t awkward. When the road narrowed, and they started climbing, Wes looked at Cassandra. “Almost there.”
“What’s the elevation?”
“Around 3000 at the lake.”
“Is it going to be cold?”
“Warm days, cool nights.”
She laughed. “So, the campfire will feel good.”
“Music, ghost stories, and s’mores.”
She looked back at Bailey. “Sounds fun.”
Bailey nodded without taking her eyes off the tablet.
Wes glanced at her through the mirror. “You’re about to lose service, kid.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep.”
“There’s no internet at camp?”
“Nope.”
Cassandra smiled. “Hallelujah.”
“A couple of the kids said that, but I didn’t believe them.”
Cassandra turned toward Wes. “So, forty teenagers with no internet for a week. How’s that going to work?”
“It’s a bit like the Dark Ages.”
The road wound through the foothills, and as they drew near, they caught glimpses of Blueberry Lake through the trees.
When they reached a carved wooden sign that read ‘Camp Blueberry, 2 Miles,’ Wes turned and followed the winding road through the thick pines, crunching pine needles and the occasional pine cone under his tires.
After crossing a wooden bridge over a flowing creek, the trees thinned, and the buildings of Camp Blueberry lay before them. The lake shimmered in the mid-afternoon light on the far side of a grassy clearing with ten small cabins, a larger double cabin, and the mess hall.
Cassandra leaned forward. “Oh my goodness, this is beautiful.”
There was one other car parked in front of the mess hall, and Wes pulled up next to it.
“Looks like Coach beat us here.” They all got out of the Wagoneer, and Wes stretched out his stiff shoulders.
The air was crisp and slightly humid with the impending rainstorm.
It was cooler than Bridgeport this time of year, and the gentle lapping of the water along the shore was different from the faster current of the Smith River.
Coach Lester Porter was by the lake, standing at the end of the wooden pier. He waved, and Wes held up a hand. “I’ll go say hi.” He looked at Bailey. “Everyone should be arriving soon. Go pick out a cabin for you and your bunk mates.”
“I get first dibs?”
“Yeah, go check them all out.”
Wes turned to Cassandra. “We’ll be in the big double cabin.”
“Do I get to pick which side I want?”
“Of course.” He opened the back of the vehicle, and she took out her bags. “I’ll be in the cabin.” Wes walked to the lake and out onto the pier.
The two men shook hands, and Lester asked, “How was the drive?”
“Fine. Uneventful.”
“At least you had some company.”
No breeze stirred, and the lake was perfectly smooth, like dark blue glass. “Looks pretty calm considering there’s a storm heading our way.”
“Not supposed to pick up until later tonight. Shouldn’t affect our first fire.”
“Good.”
“I guess I’ll get my tent set up in the trees over there before the gang starts arriving.”
“I’ll go get settled into the cabin.”
“With Miss Cassandra?”
“Yeah.”
Lester laughed. “Better you than me, friend.”
“Can’t be any worse than sharing a bathroom with Brian.” Wes headed back for the cabin and tentatively opened the door on the left side. “Cassandra?”
She came through the bathroom door. “This side is yours. Get settled in.”
“Okay.” He brought his things in, set his bags along the wall, and leaned the guitar next to them. “All done.”
“Wow. Really? That thing over there is a dresser. Right next to it is a closet. Sometimes people put their clothes in them.”
“Hmm. When you’re done hanging clothes and stashing stuff in drawers, I’ll give you a tour.”
“Five minutes.” She took a step back. “Or maybe ten.”
Wes sat on the bed. “Take your time.”
Fifteen minutes later, Cassandra came through the bathroom again with a jacket over her arm. “We need to establish some bathroom rules.”
“Such as?”
“Lock both doors when you're in there.”
“I understand locking the door to your room when I’m in there. But mine?”
“Weston.”
He smiled. “I will do my best not to create any embarrassing bathroom moments.”
“Thank you.”
She put on her jacket. “When do you like to shower?”
“Umm…”
“I shower in the morning.”
“I’ll shower at night, then.”
“You’re okay with that?”
“Yeah. I’m not an obsessive-compulsive shower taker.”
Cassandra put her hands on her hips. “Neither am I.”
“I wasn’t inferring you were.”
She cocked her head. “I think you were.”
“I think you’re a bit of an obsessive-compulsive bathroom schedule planner.”
“Fine. We’ll play it by ear.”
“Are you ready to go?”
“I’m ready.” They walked to the door, and Wes opened it for her. “How many times have you been to camp?”
“This is my seventh year.”
“Goodness.”
“And did you attend as a senior?”
“Yes.”
“How fun.”
They headed for the lake. “This is Blueberry Lake. It’s part of a chain of lakes that eventually feed into the Smith River.”
“It’s beautiful.”
They walked to the end of the dock, and she pointed to the building near the water’s edge. “What’s in there?”
“That’s the boathouse. We have canoes, paddle boats, and a couple of kayaks.”
“Do we trust the kids to take them out by themselves?”
“Within reason. It depends on the kid, the weather, and how far they want to go. If they’re planning on going farther than we can see them, they get a chaperone.”
“Is that why Lester is here?”
“I take them out, too.” He looked at her. “Are you still brave enough to go out on the lake in a canoe?”
“Of course.”
“Have you been in a canoe since…”
“No.”
“It’s like riding a bike. It’ll come back to you.”
“Am I going to be taking a canoe ride this week?”
“Probably a few of them.”
She looked at the calm water of the lake. “Is that why I needed to sign a release of liability?”
“It’s one of the reasons.”
“Weston?”
“Come on. I’ll show you the mess hall.”
“I hope eating in the mess hall isn’t one of the reasons.”
“The food here is excellent.”
She took his arm, then let go of it. “Sorry.”
Wes put his hands in his pockets as they stopped at the eight-foot stone fire pit. “This is where we spend every night.”
“Who gets to cut the wood for this thing?”
“There’s a woodshed on the back of the boathouse. Hopefully, the maintenance crew left us enough for the week.”
“And if they didn’t?”
“Then I’ll put a couple of football players to work.”
She turned to him. “You seem to have an answer for everything, Wes.”
“Seven years. I’ve seen pretty much every possible thing that can go wrong.”
“I’m glad we’re in good hands.”
A car pulled up to the mess hall, and two middle-aged women got out.
“Who is that?”
“That is May and June.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Come meet our kitchen staff.”
“Are they related?”
“Sisters.”
“I should’ve known.”
Wes got a hug from both women. “Mr. Buchanan, so nice to see you again.”
“You too.” He motioned toward Cassandra. “This is Cassandra Jordan, my…number two.”
The women shook with her. “Welcome to Camp Blueberry.”
May looked at Wes. “Will Mr. Bishop be joining us this year?”
“No, he left the school. But the coach is here again.”
“Oh, good. We like Coach.”
“Do you need help unloading anything?”
June opened the back of the vehicle, which was overflowing with grocery bags. “Groceries.”
“Wow. Okay. Let me help you with that.”
Wes and Cassandra spent fifteen minutes helping the women unload the vehicle, then walked to a small parking area. “The kids should be arriving soon.”
“Are we here to greet them?”
“Yes.” He looked at her. “There’s no going back now.”
“I’m ready.”
A few cars arrived at first, then suddenly the parking lot was full of parents dropping off kids with backpacks, sleeping bags, favorite blankets, pillows, and the occasional stuffed animal.
Wes greeted all the students by name, and Cassandra whispered in his ear. “How do you know all of them?’
“They’ve been my students for three years now.”
“Still.”
Wes shrugged. “I have a good memory when it comes to names.” He smiled at a couple approaching. “Afternoon, Dick, Macy, last child to attend camp, right?”
Macy smiled. “Yes, and Rick’s been talking about it since freshman year.”
Wes put a hand on Rick’s shoulder. “You’re going to have a great time.”
“That’s the plan.”
They moved on to the grassy field where parents were saying bye to the children. Cassandra nudged Wes. “You know the parents’ names, too?”
“Not all of them. This is the Parker’s fourth kid.”
“No wonder everyone likes you.”
He looked at her. “Everyone?”
“Yes, everyone. It was never a matter of my not liking you.”
“Right.”
“Wes.”
“I got to tell you, it sure felt like that when I was twenty and madly in love.”
Cassandra nodded, then excused herself and walked away. Wes watched her head for the cabin. “Dammit.”