Unlikely Allies (7 page)

"Sure."

A few minutes later, I met him outside the archway that connected the restaurant to the store.

"I found o
ne," I said, holding up the pad
gleefully. "And guess what else I found out? They do sell kitchen sinks," I teased.

"No shit?" he asked.

"Kidding," I said giggling as the hostess approached us.

"Two, Mary," he said.

"How's it going
,
Rick? We've missed seeing you around lately. You can always tell when it's summer time around here. It gets
a lot quieter without our loud
mouth boys," she said, shooting me a wink. "Speaking of which, what've you done
with my boy?
"

"Mason's
up at the camp doing some last-
minute stuff before the rowdy bunch arrives tomorrow."

"I see. I guess I understand that excuse, but you tell him I'm expecting a visit as soon as summer's over. So
, who might this lovely lady be?
" she asked, setting our menus down at a table next to a huge picturesque window with a breathtaking view of the mountains.

"This is my daughter," Rick said, throwing his arm across my shoulders.

"Ahh, so you decided to take my advice and adopt another one of
them
young'u
ns
," she said, cluckin
g happily as she set our napkin-
wrapped silverware on the table.

I stiffened under Rick's arm. This was going to be everyone's assumption, and for some reason, it struck a sour chord in me. I was robbed of the opportunity of knowing him when I was younger, and it seemed unfair that it would trickle into adulthood, even after I found him.

"No, Kimberly is my biological daughter," he answered.

"Well, I'll be. I'm bettin' that's an interesting story," she said, obviously curious.

"Definitely intriguing," Rick answered glibly, shooting me a smile of reassurance.

Getting the hint, Mary took our drink orders before bustling away.

"Small towns," Rick said, noting my silence.

I nodded my head, pretending I got it, but in reality I didn't. Rick booted up his laptop while we waited for Mary to
return with our drinks. He looked as if he wanted to say more, but a blanket of awkwardness covered us. Trying to take my mind off the sudd
en tension, I opened the sketch
pad and rubbed my hand over the clean smooth surface. Opening a new pad was always a spec
ial ritual for me, knowing
I would forever be changing it. I opened my oversized bag and rummaged around for my box of pencils that I never went anywhere without. The window at our table perfectly framed the view of the mountainside as my hand began the first sketches across the paper. I liked to sketch the overall picture in basic form first, and then go back to fill in all the details. Mary returned to the table with our drinks as I was sketching the broad mountain range.

"Oh my, you're an artist," she said breathlessly, in a way that didn't match her personality from earlier. Turning toward her, I could see she was enthralled by the way she was intently studying my drawing.

"Are you an artist?" I asked.

"Not like this
,
sweetheart," she said, indicating my sketch. "I like to dabble a little. A long time ago I had crazy ideas of running off to become an artist, but life took over and I didn't rediscover my passion for it until my husband passed away last year."

"Maybe if I have time before I fly home, I could look at some of your stuff," I said, smiling at her for the first time. My initial impression of her being overly nosy was eclipsed by the instant kinship I felt for a fellow artist. By the way she studied
my
drawing,
it was obvious it really touched her. It just shows you can't always judge a book by its cover, I guess.

"Really?" she asked with shining eyes.

"Of course.
I can tell by your passion that your work is most likely better than you give yourself credit for. Those that feel passion can create," I said, quoting my art teacher's favorite phrase.

"Oh sweetie, that would be so wonderful," she said with sudden bright eyes that were fighting to hold tears at bay.

She took our orders before scurrying off with a new bounce in her step through the large swinging door that separated the dining area from the kitchen. I couldn't help smiling at her happiness. Art was like a drug. It pulled you in and enticed you to forget everything else. Turning back toward our table, I discovered Rick studying me over the top of the laptop.

"What?" I asked.

"That was really nice of you," he said, looking at me with pride.

"It was nothing," I said, ducking my head.

Once Mary brought our food, Rick and I chatted away as we ate.
Nothing heavy, just more light
hearte
d pop culture banter.
Afterward
, I finished my sketch while he answered a few more emails. I tore the completed drawing from the pad and placed it on the table as Rick and I were leaving, merely shrugging my shoulders as he looked at me questioningly. Now
that I had sketched them once, I would be able to do it again even without the mountains in front of me.

Our next stop was Costco for supplies. As Rick loaded up an oversized flatbed cart with paper goods, I browsed the book section. I found several of the titles Rick had mentioned during the ri
de in, along with a couple
I thought he might like to read. I paid for the books separately and didn't show them to him until we were back in the car.

"These look great," Rick said enthusiastically, flipping one of them over to peruse the synopsis.

"I thought you'd like them. I know there's no teams to pick sides for, but figured you'd still read them," I teased.

"You're hilarious," he said, grinning at me sheepishly.

I dozed on our drive back up the mountains, waking to see the sun setting as Rick turned down the dirt path toward the camp.

"I had fun today," I said, yawning as he put the car in park.

"I did too. I'm really glad you decided to come up this summer. I'm sorry we haven't had mor
e time alone. I forgot how time-
consuming the camp can be," he said, sounding regretful.

"It's fine. I'm actually having fun,"
I said, not mentioning the not-so-
fun parts with Mason.

Chapter 5

The next morning I wasn't as confident.

“What am I even doing here?” I mumbled, knowing the campers were due to descend on the camp anytime. “I know nothing a
bout kids, and it’s obvious
I’m a terrible example,” I added, freaking out about the responsibility that I would be handed in mere minutes.

“Kim, don’t be ridiculous, you’ll be a natural. Look at how much everyone already likes you here. It usually takes years to earn their respect,” Amy said, tidying up the cabin.

“Girl, you’re crazy. Even without Mason pointing out my flaws, I know I’m a mess.”

“Mason’s just being a complete douche, but everyone else admires your never-give-up attitude. You’ve got freaking nerves of steel, because believe me, I would have knocked his teeth down his throat by now,” Amy said, taking a big swing at the air.

“Ugh, don’t think I haven’t been tempted. I wanted to get along with him for Rick’s sake, but I’m seriously wishing a pack of wolves would drag him off.”

“We could dip a cot in honey and drag it out to the woods with him tied to it and see if you’d luck out with bears showing up,” Amy said loyally.

“Gruesome. You may like horror movies more than you think. Hey, are you sure I can handle this,” I asked, switching gears as I heard the bus pulling in on the gravel road outside.

“I’m positive,” she said, giving me a quick hug of reassurance. “For the most part, they just want love. Sure, you’ll have the occasional kid with a chip the size of Canada on their shoulders, but we'll figure it out. You’ll be fine,” she added, seeing my panic.

I squared my shoulders after
standing up and followed
Amy as she headed for the door. It was too late to turn back now. We stepped out into what I had now liked to call the deceptive sunshine because it was never as warm as it looked outside. It looked like an endless stream of kids tumbling off the bus. The noise level was deafening as the campers all tried talking over each other.

Rick stood on the bottom step of the bus with a megaphone in hand. “All right
,
campers,” he bellowed into the megaphone, getting their attention. “Girls, age ten to twelve, you’re with Amy and Kimberly, my daughter, in cabin Raven,” he said, pointing to where Amy and I were standing in the doorway. “Girls, thirteen to fifteen, you’re with Liz and Courtney in cabin Sparrow,” he said, pointing to the cabin next door. “Boys, ten to twelve, you’re with Travis and Ryan in cabin Blue Jay, and boys thirteen to fifteen, you’re in cabin
Eagle with Mason and John. Gather your belongings and head to your cabins. We’ll meet back out here at ten for orientation.”

Amy and I stepped to the side as our group of campers approached the cabin. The majority of them were first years, so they squealed over the thought of sleeping in bunk beds. There were a couple squabbles over who would get the top bunk, but Amy quickly diffused the situation by letting the eldest pick first. Soon the banging of the wardrobes filled the cabin as belongings were unpacked and stored in their temporary homes.

I followed Amy’s lead and assisted the girls in sorting through their stuff. I noticed Amy was taking an inventory of who had what, listing missing appropriate attire onto a sheet of paper.

“I’m going to go to the supply room and get some of this stuff,” she said, holding up the list once everything was unpacked.

“You’re leaving me alone?”

“They’re fine,” she
said, indicating the girls who
were already clustered into groups. “They basically entertain themselves. We just make sure no one gets hurt and no fights erupt.”

“Okay,” I said, folding my legs up under me on my bed. “If you come back and I’m tied up or something, you’ll know I lost control,” I mumbled as she headed for the door.

I could hear her laughing even after she walked out the door.

Sweeping my eyes around the room, I was relieved that Amy’s words proved to be true. Everyone seemed happy enough, chatting and exchanging stories about their current homes. It was a little heartbreaking, listening to their game to see who had been placed in the most foster homes. I may have been missing a father figure my entire life, but my mom had always provided the most stable home possible. It was sad to know that so many kids weren’t afforded the same luxury.

One of the campers I noticed was sitting alone on her bunk, not talking to anyone else. I jumped off my bed and walked over to introduce myself. “Hey, I’m Kim,” I said, holding out my hand.

She looked at my hand disdainfully, like it was a snake.

Ignoring the snub, I sat on the bed next to her. “Is this your first year here?” I asked, thinking she just felt out of place.

“You think I’m ten?” she asked disgustedly.

“Uh, well no. I just…Well, I just thought since you weren’t chatting with anyone you must be new and might need help fitting in.”

“Really, so if I’m not acting like a total ditz like them, I must need you to swoop in to save me?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“No, I just figured you might need a little help…” I said, letting my voice trail off before I made matters worse. I looked at the door wistfully, wishing Amy would hurry up.

“Don’t worry about the poor orphan, okay? I’ve been taking care of myself for years,” she said, dragging a book out of her battered bag. She looked at me pointedly.

I climbed off her bunk, getting
the hint
. With one last sarcastic look, she flopped on her side, facing the wall with her book in hand.

Real smooth
,
Kim,
I thought
as I headed back to my bed.

The other girls seemed oblivious to the loner as they became more vocal. The noise level in the cabin swelled as they tried to outdo each other’s stories. I fought the urge to co
ver my ears or try my old fifth-
grade teacher's method and declare it quiet time. The beginning of a headache began to pound in my temples.

“Shut it!” Amy hollered, stepping into the cabin.

Silence enveloped the cabin like a blanket.

“You know my rules. We can all have fun chatting, gossiping and talking about boys, but when your voices hit screaming decibels, what does it mean?” she said, dropping the bags she had carried so she could put her hands on her hips.

“Majorly grumpy counselors,” one of the girls piped in, giggling.

“That’s right, and do we like majorly grumpy counselors?” she asked, finally cracking a smile.