Chapter 5
Abby practically limped back to the cabin at the end of our first day of orientation.
“Lori, slow down. My legs are screaming. I can’t remember ever walking this much in my life. I wish us schleppers got to ride around in a golf cart.”
“I know how you feel, my flat feet are cramping from hiking up and down all the hills.” I yawned. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to pass out.”
“Good luck with that,” Abby said.
“What do you mean?”
“When was the last time you slept in a strange bed without your husband snoring next to you?” she asked.
I had an urge to spill my guts to Abby, telling her that not sleeping next to my husband was a goal of mine.
Ronnie and I were using this time apart to decide whether we wanted to stay married, but since she and I had just met that morning, it might be a bit much.
Instead, we stood facing each other in the narrow hallway, hands on our doorknobs, and I said, “Sort of feels like we’re in college again. ”
“The next thing you know we’ll get our periods at the same time and sit in bed gossiping, eating chocolate frosting right out of the container.”
I smiled. “I think we’re going to become fast friends.”
“I feel the same way.”
We opened our doors, looked over our shoulders, smiled, and entered our rooms.
I finally found a comfortable spot. My body sank like a brick, but my mind was looping, rehashing the events that had led me to this tiny room.
I might not be hearing Ronnie’s snoring, but I could hear his voice in my head and the fight we had after Jack left the apartment.
We had just thanked Jack for stopping by to tell us about his camp.
When the door closed, Ronnie said, “I can’t believe you invited someone to my home without talking to me first. Let me make this perfectly clear, I see no reason why my kids need to attend sleepaway camp.
They can go to the same day camp they went to last year. ”
“Since when can’t I invite people to our home?” I took a calming breath. “If you’re angry with me for not discussing it with you, that’s fine, but don’t take it out on Zelda and Hazel. Sleepaway camp will be a great opportunity for them.”
“If they were away for the summer, what would you do?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your job is to take care of them. If they weren’t here, what would you do every day?”
I took another deep breath and managed to put a pleasant look on my face before answering. “I thought you and I could go away to celebrate our fifteenth anniversary. You know how we’ve talked about going to Greece? Well, I thought this summer would be the perfect opportunity.”
He didn’t reply right away; I could almost hear the gears turning in his brain. “Okay, let’s figure out the cost. Two children in camp, ten days in Greece, and I suppose you’d still expect to go to the beach for a week at the end of August?”
“Ideally, yes. That’s your special time with Zelda and Hazel.”
“The cost for one summer would be staggering.”
I pictured the beads of an abacus shifting in his head. “But isn’t that part of the reason you work so hard, so we have money to play? The kids would have a wonderful experience, and we could relax and reconnect.”
“And what would your contribution be to these plans?”
“Excuse me?”
“The way I see it, you reap all the benefits without doing any of the work.”
It took all I had not to lose it. “What do you think I do? I’m the CHO—Chief Home Officer.
All my time is invested in our family. I’m the person who takes care of Zelda and Hazel, this apartment, our lives.
If I weren’t here, our family would come apart.
Should I start keeping track of my billable hours and hand you a timesheet at the end of each week, so you can calculate my worth? ”
“You sound a bit defensive.”
“It’s hard not to be defensive when you’re questioning the value of my existence.”
“You’re being overly sensitive.”
“And you’re being obtuse.”
“I see no reason to send the girls to camp when it’s your only job to take care of them.”
I was determined not to turn this into a screaming match. “Well, I think it’s important that they go to camp. They’ll learn to be more independent and more resilient when things don’t go their way. And I want them to start doing chores.”
“Why can’t you show them?”
“Because they expect me to do everything for them. The reasons I want them to attend sleepaway camp are the exact reasons that Jack just rattled off to us. The statistical stuff he was citing about how kids given the opportunity to go to camp are more likely to grow up to be successful adults with good decision-making skills, which I know you appreciate.” I smiled but he didn’t return one.
“The part that stood out for me was that they would be better at advocating for themselves, and they would get to do it surrounded by fresh air and nature. Not stuck riding on a hot bus for over an hour twice a day like they did last year. Then, when they got back from camp, I’d give them tasks to do around the house. ”
“Like what?”
“Like making their beds, putting the dinner dishes away . . .”
“This argument has come full circle. Those are your responsibilities. I’ll ask you again, what would you do to keep busy all day?”
“I get it. You’ve been harboring a grudge against me because I don’t have a job outside this apartment.
You think because I don’t bring in an income, you have the right to make all the decisions, and I haven’t earned a summer without the kids or a vacation.
Well, screw you. I’m going to teach Zelda and Hazel that if you want something badly enough you find a way to make it happen.
They will go to camp, and I will pay for it myself. ”
I was proud of myself for not backing down.
After I had racked my brain for a week trying to figure out how to muster up payment for two, I called Jack and asked if he had a job for me at the camp.
Fast forward four months, and here I was lying in bed after my first day of orientation.
It wasn’t only my thoughts keeping me up.
The eerie silence was underscored by the ominous darkness.
Falling asleep in Manhattan would probably be difficult for most people, but I was used to the constant noise of cars honking, sirens, and people shouting on the sidewalk below.
The glimmers of light and shadows that crisscrossed my bedroom from the streetlamps and traffic lights were a comfort.
Here in the mountains, the lack of noise kept me awake.
I must have finally fallen asleep only to hear birds tweeting before the sun was up.