Church Camp Chaos (22 page)

EJ folded the letter, held it in her hands, and stared at it, furrowing her brow in concentration. She mentally went through the list of clues:

1. Mom crying
. EJ thought back to the scene she saw before her. It was normal for the family to pray together, but the crying was new. Maybe, just maybe, Mom and Nana weren’t crying because they were sad. Maybe they were—happy? EJ didn’t understand why someone would cry when they were happy, but adults
were
strange like that.

2. Dad leaving to meet with the board “stuff … about the thing.”
Mom’s letter said that the adoption came about because of their connection with Vine Street Community Church, so obviously the board would have to be part of that discussion.

3. Mom and Dad leaving before family game night
. Meetings with lawyers. Of course! That had to be it.

Not only was EJ
not
moving, but she was getting a new
sister
!

EJ picks up the toddler wearing the tiny red Converse All-Stars. The little girl’s chubby hands reach out to squeeze EJ’s face from both sides, making her cheeks bulge like a chipmunk. EJ grins and crosses her eyes at her little sister. The toddler squeals and giggles
.

“Um, EJ?” Macy asked cautiously.

“What? Oh Macy—sorry.” EJ’s daydream faded into the background.

“Is everything okay?” Macy asked.

“You know what?” EJ said. “Everything is crazy and weird and surprising. But it doesn’t feel scary anymore. I have a lot to tell you!”

July 26

Saturday morning of camp couldn’t have been more different than Monday morning. Remember how my entire dorm woke up even before the wake-up bell on Monday? Well, this morning every single girl in the bunks would’ve slept WAY past the bell … if Susan had let us. Instead, she woke us up with the most terribly annoying camp song I’ve ever heard. It started out as a cute melody about little birds sleeping in a nest, and then the song took an awful turn when Susan yelled “QUIET!” and “GOOD MORNING, GOOD MORNING!” at the end of the song. Susan laughed and said it was a camp tradition.

I said I thought it was one tradition that should die.

Mom, Dad, and Isaac picked me up from camp after breakfast, and even though I love camp, I was happy to be going home. So I said good-bye to Susan, Gene, the cooks (dressed in normal clothes—Camp Christian T-shirts and shorts—for the first time all week), and everyone else I met at camp, and we piled into the minivan with my stuff. Isaac talked the entire forty-minute drive home about day camp and how much fun he had and about our epic bumper boat battle and how funny it was that Gene fell in the lake and how he got so many high fives from the older campers after he waterlogged Gene’s megaphone and even though he didn’t mean to do it, it was a pretty awesome accident. (You get the idea—the kid is a motormouth. Luckily for Isaac, I was so tired I just let him talk.)

When we got home, there was a giant pile of bags and boxes on the front porch—donations from people at church to help us prepare for the arrival for the new little Payne that will be joining our family sometime in the next few days. Crib and car seat and high chair and diapers and wipes and rash cream (gross) and clothes and blankets and bottles and teething rings and on and on! Who would’ve guessed a baby required so much junk? I picked up something that looked like an eye dropper with a rubber ball on the end and asked Mom what it was. She said it was something called a “nasal aspirator,” and that it was one of the best baby inventions ever. Then she got distracted when Mrs. McCallister stopped by to drop off a bag full of frilly pink baby dresses (no way am I letting a sister of mine wear those things!), so I didn’t get a chance to ask her what a nasal aspirator does. I guess I’ll find out sooner or later.

This baby adoption is going to mean big changes for us, and honestly, I don’t know what to expect. But she’s a girl, so I would think that she’s not as gross or annoying as Isaac was as a baby (right?). But even though I don’t know what’s going to happen, one thing I learned at camp is that God does know—and He can handle it, no matter what “it” is.

Dad is calling up the stairs for me to come down. We’re having pizza for supper and playing games in the tree house, but first we’re going to hang our old baby swing that we didn’t throw out after the Swing Set Switcharoo. (A clue to the mystery I obviously overlooked. I guess I still have a thing or two to learn about detective work!)

So it’s on to another adventure for the Payne family—this one starring EJ as big sister extraordinaire!

EJ

P.S. Oh, I guess I haven’t told you the baby’s name yet. After everything that’s happened this summer, it seems oddly appropriate. The baby’s name is Faith. Faith Nicole Payne.

Annie Tipton made up her first story at the ripe old age of two when she asked her mom to write it down for her. (Hey, she was just two—she didn’t know how to make letters yet!) Since then she has read and written many words as a student, newspaper reporter, author, and editor. Annie loves snow (which is a good thing because she lives in Ohio), wearing scarves, sushi, Scrabble, and spending time with friends and family.

Book 1: True Story