Chapter Thirty-One
“Mom, I left Benny’s pj’s on his bed. I’m sure he’ll be falling asleep the minute you put him in it. We had another long hike today.”
Abby stood in the kitchen doorway wearing jeans and a white long-sleeved shirt tucked in at the waist and the sleeves rolled to the elbows.
She wore her dark hair down and brushed into waves around her face, and she wore makeup for the first time since she’d arrived at camp.
It struck Kit how beautiful her daughter was.
“I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed your belt.”
“I hadn’t noticed but it’s fine.”
“Thanks, Mom. Is that the first draft of Aunt Beth’s newsletter?” Abby asked.
“Yes. It’s not bad. Not sure about the name but Beth said it was just a placeholder. We can change it.”
“Yeah, I think we can come up with something better than the Camp Council.”
“You’re ready to go?”
Abby nodded. “Benny’s in the ‘library’ with Aunt Beth. I told him if he was good she’d read him a story, so he’s being an angel.”
Kit put the newsletter down and took off her reading glasses. “And where’s this bar you’re going?”
“I don’t know the name of it. Elly said it’s out on the highway. They have live music tonight, and Elly said if we’re lucky, it’ll be a group of good-looking loggers who play guitars and sing country songs without too much twang.”
Kit smiled. “And if you’re unlucky?”
“I didn’t ask.” Abby laughed. “Not sure I want to know.”
She swept over and kissed her mother on the cheek. “Thanks again, Mom. I can’t remember the last time I went out to a bar with a friend. It’s been years. And I’m going to miss Elly when she leaves. She’s been such a fun friend.”
“She’s a sweetheart. Have a good time tonight and don’t drink too much.”
“Mom, when have you ever known me to drink too much?”
“Let me count the ways.”
“Oh, you! My Villanova pub-crawl days are far behind me now. I didn’t drink when I was pregnant with Benny and I only drink when we’re out with friends. Since Evan and I had no friends, it’s been at least three years since I’ve had anything more than a glass or two of wine.”
“You and Elly polished off a bottle not too long ago.”
“It was a small bottle.”
“Just be careful.”
“Will do.”
Kit could hear Abby saying good night to Benny and reminding him to be a good boy for Nana and Auntie Beth.
Then the front door opened and closed, and the house fell quiet except for the very faint murmur of Beth’s voice from the library corner of the living room.
Soon it would be Benny’s bedtime, and he’d want both her and Beth to read him a story (one each) and tuck him in, but neither minded.
He was a fun kid, and they both adored him.
By eight o’clock, Benny had been bathed and read to (several times), and once he was tucked in, Beth went to her room to call the café as she did every night to check on things.
She and Kit had taken rooms next to each other across the hall from the rooms Maxine and Barbie had once called theirs.
Neither Beth nor Kit had wanted to take either their aunt’s or their mother’s bedrooms for their own.
Beth had declared that sleeping in their mother’s childhood room was giving her weird dreams, and sleeping in Maxine’s was like “sleeping with the dead,” and that had pretty much turned Kit off the idea of calling either room hers.
The one she now occupied overlooked the lake and the woods, and Kit was just fine with that.
Kit wandered into the library corner and straightened the bookshelves.
Benny had left a pile on the floor of old Little Golden Books, the very ones with her mother’s name carefully printed on the inside cover.
After she’d tucked the last book into its place on the shelf, she sat in one of the old armchairs and tried to imagine campers coming in and making a selection—maybe one of Miles’s books—then sitting right where she was seated, taking the book back to their cabin, or maybe to the memorial garden to read.
She had to hand it to Abby—stocking Miles’s work for the campers was a great idea.
Maybe they’d order several extra copies to sell, as Beth had suggested.
Not for the first time, Kit wondered what it would be like, living with her daughter and her sister on a permanent basis.
Too much estrogen under one roof? She suspected it might be.
Then again, they’d probably be too busy during the day and too tired at night to get on each other’s nerves.
At least one could hope. And who knew, at some point one of them might want to get a small house in town and live on their own or build themselves a small place on this property.
They were all at a place in their lives where anything could happen.
Maybe Abby would find someone and want to get married again.
Maybe Beth would as well. The future was open to them all.
But not me. Kit felt she’d given enough of her life to someone else. Then again, stranger things had happened. Just look at the past few months. Six months ago, could she have imagined the jagged path her life had begun to take?
Six months ago, she’d had no reason to question who she was, who her parents were, that Beth was her sister, or that her mother had been an only child.
She’d known her place in the world, and if not happily married, she and Russ had been mostly content with their situation.
She’d loved her house in Bryn Mawr and loved her pretty neighborhood.
Then came the phone calls from Banks, followed by the FedEx package, and nothing had been the same since.
And now, here she was, in the house her great-great-grandparents had built, thinking about bear spray and camp merch and how to keep her daughter from running up impossible tabs with the local contractors.
If she had her way, Abby would have every plumber, electrician, contractor, and roofer from here to Augusta on speed-dial and they’d all be showing up to work next week.
She viewed the upcoming camping experience as more an experiment than anything else.
Of course, she questioned their collective wisdom in making the decision to reopen the camp.
None of them knew the first thing about camping except that they’d each attended one as kids.
Not one of them had ever lived in the woods or away from large cities and towns much larger than Tolerance.
She doubted any of them even knew how to start a fire unless it was in the fireplace with wood that had been carefully stacked, preferably by someone else.
Both Abby and Beth had gas fireplaces in their homes, so neither of them had ever had to strike a match—which in Kit’s case, Russ had done.
They should change the name of the camp to the Three Bumbling Divorcées.
From a practical standpoint, it was probably the worst idea she’d ever agreed to.
And yet, there was something so right about it.
When she heard the front door open, she sat straight up from a drowsy nap and held her breath. Had she forgotten to lock the door?
“Mom?” Abby whispered. “You in there?”
Of course. Abby was home from her night out.
“Follow the light, Abby.” Kit yawned.
Abby walked into the living room. “Oh, there you are,” she said a little too brightly.
Watching her daughter slowly and unsurely navigate around the furniture in the living room, Kit frowned.
“Abby, how many beers did you have?”
Abby shrugged. “Dunno. A few. Beer’s not so bad, after you get used to it. I’da preferred a nice white, but it wasn’t a wine kinda bar, you know?”
Abby plopped into the chair closest to the bookshelves.
“Please tell me you did not drive home like this.”
“Oh, no, no. Abigail does not drink and drive. Nor does Elly. Uh-uh. Chief Hal drove us home.”
Kit closed her eyes, mortified, imagining her next encounter with the chief of police. “Did he pull you over?”
“Nope. He was in the parking lot when Elly and I left the Blue Moon—that’s the name of the bar, and trust me, it’s not as cute as the name might suggest but it was fun anyway.
” Abby cleared her throat. “So we came out and we were discussing who should be the driver—because we forgot, you know, to designate one of us to drive before we went in and people started buying us beers. Anyway, Chief Hal was there ’cause two guys had gotten into a fight in the bar, but the bartender made them take it outside, which of course they did and someone had called the police.
So the chief fixed that up somehow and then he saw us and said he’d drive us home.
So he drove me here and then he was going to drop Elly off at the inn.
And you can maybe drive me to get my car tomorrow morning. ”
The sound of a dog’s nails clicking on the hardwood announced Wally was joining them.
“Oh, Wally, did I wake you up? Sorry, old guy.” Abby leaned over to pet him.
“Abby, I probably don’t have to say this but I will anyway. It’s not a good look to go out to one of the local bars and get drunk your first night out.”
“Well, if everyone hadn’t kept buying me beers, I wouldn’t be drunk.
Everyone is so happy that we’re going to reopen the camp, they wanted to celebrate.
And I wanted to celebrate, ’cause you know, this is important to me and I want so much for it to work.
I know it’s going to be hard but I’m good with that.
I’m not afraid to work hard and neither are you or Aunt Beth.
See what a good example you’ve been for me? ”
Abby leaned over and kissed her mother’s cheek. “So thank you for always showing us how to get things done.”
“I don’t know that I’ve been particularly productive over the past few years.” Kit tried to think of anything she could point to.