The room was silent as Matt went through the schedule. “The bus leaves KidsFirst at eight tomorrow morning and I’ve asked Sandro and Kristen to chaperone it. Uh, Andy, question?”
“Just one bus?”
“Only twenty kids and the bus seats thirty.”
“Okay. And are the kids bringing sleeping bags?”
“Nope. We bought linens and Dana made up the beds yesterday.” Matt intercepted a raised eyebrow from Kristen to Sandro.
“Wouldn’t the camp save money and the hassle of laundry if they had sleeping bags?” Gayle asked.
“Maybe, but we didn’t want to make it a requirement and have some kids miss out if they don’t have sleeping bags. Easier to just wash sheets. Okay, so those of you who are driving on your own, please be here by eight to finish anything you have to do before the buses arrive—you know, in the kitchen—” he looked at June and Gayle “—or wherever you’ll be working,” he said, giving a quick glance at Jean, Rob and Andy.
Once he was finished going through the handout, he said, “Rob and I decided the lake might still be too cool for the kids to take the swim test, so we decided to try to fit that in next weekend. The forecast says it’ll be warmer then. Andy and Sandro will organize a baseball or soccer game on the field out front.”
“And if it’s raining?” All eyes turned to Dana. “Um...board games?”
Someone snorted.
“We often use board games at night to settle the kids,” Matt explained, “but they need more activity during the day. But it’s a good question, Dana. As long as there’s no thunder and lightning, we’ll go for a hike around the lake as schedule—”
“In the rain?” Dana blurted. There was light laughter at that, which brought a flush to her cheeks. “I mean, what if they don’t have rain gear?”
“They’re supposed to bring appropriate clothing for rain, but we have a small collection of boots and ponchos here.” Matt paused, adding, “Usually one or two forget to bring certain items. And if the weather is so bad we can’t get out at all, Andy and Kristen have a program of indoor activities they’ve used at KidsFirst Place. As well as those board games.”
Dana nodded and peered down at her handout. Matt felt for her. She was a newbie and, like all newbies, learning on the job. He knew the crew would cut her some slack and offer any help because volunteers were always appreciated, though he wondered about Kristen. Had she been the one who snorted about the board games? Maybe he’d have a word with her after the meeting.
“All right then, if there’s nothing else then I guess we’ll see each other in the morning. And you all have my cell number if you need to call or text. Get a good night’s sleep... You might not tomorrow.” They laughed at that and chatted as they left the room to set up their individual work areas for the weekend.
Dana hung back. “Is there anything special you’d like me to help with today or...should I just head back to the city and meet everyone here in the morning?”
“Tomorrow’s fine. At eight,” Matt reminded her.
“I’m sorry about that. I looked up the distance from Lincoln Park but didn’t account for early-morning traffic.”
“It’s not that big a deal, Dana, but please try to be here on time to greet the bus.”
“Of course!” Her voice rose. “And it’s Saturday so—”
“No rush hour.”
“Right.”
Matt softened his tone. “I’m sure June and Gayle can use some help in the kitchen. Or maybe Kristen. You can find her in the lodge office, down the hall. And since there’s only one night of supervising, I told Kristen she could sleep in the main lodge this weekend and that you were willing to spend the night in the cabin with the girls. There’re only ten of them this time. Is that okay with you?”
“I expected to do that!”
“Okay. If there’s a problem, you can call her—or me. I’ll give you her number.”
As she keyed in the number he dictated, Matt noticed her phone was the latest release. The one Rosie was currently saving up for. “Oh, and just to let you know...the police check has been done. You’re all clear!” He grinned, impulsively giving her a high five.
She smiled. “Good to know.” She touched his hand, her fingers making a brief, warm contact with his.
The quick touch reminded him of yesterday and the scene at the lake—how much he’d wanted to hug her. But now he was glad he hadn’t. It might have sent the wrong message. They weren’t friends.
“Maybe I’ll ask June what I can help her with.”
Matt thought of Kristen’s not-so-discreet reactions. He needed to talk to her. The two women had to work together and whatever was bugging Kristen had to be sorted out.
Dana stopped in the doorway. “I know I probably won’t be that much help to anyone this weekend, Matt. I don’t have any experience dealing with kids. Not since I was a kid myself and even then, I wasn’t very good at it. But I’ll try my best. I promise you.”
When she left, Matt went to the office he shared with Kristen and Sandro. They were sitting next to one another at Sandro’s desk, going over some notes.
“Hey, Matt,” Sandro said, looking up. “Kris and I are brainstorming some possible rainy-day activities. We thought we’d rely on the favorites from KidsFirst ’cause the kids already know them.”
“The familiarity could be important, especially for the ones who’ve never been away from home overnight in such a different place,” Kristen added.
Matt wondered how Kristen could be so intuitive about kids and yet be so insensitive about someone like Dana. “Good thinking,” he said, and sat down in his chair opposite theirs. “Listen, I’m hoping you two will help Dana. I know you both have plenty to do this weekend, but I’d appreciate it if you gave her a chance to have a positive experience here.”
They looked quickly at one another before Sandro asked, “What exactly is her story? I mean, you said she read about KidsFirst in the paper, had some free time and wanted to volunteer.”
“Yeah,” Matt said, shrugging. “That’s the story.”
“All of it?” Kristen asked.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
She flushed at his tone but persisted. “Just that she seems to have some kind of hold on you.”
“What?”
Sandro butted in, “I think what Kristen means, buddy, is that Dana doesn’t seem like our average kind of volunteer here or at KidsFirst. Do you remember that guy who came all gung ho to help out at the drop-in and lasted less than a week?”
Matt struggled to keep his emotions, as well as his voice, steady. “I do and you’re right, Sandro. Dana’s story is a lot different from ours.” You have no idea how different. “Which means we have to give her some extra space and help her whenever we can. I believe this opportunity is important to her.” Even if it wasn’t her idea, he silently added. “Plus, it’s a matter of only two weekends. Let’s be reasonable.”
Kristen glanced from Sandro to Matt. “Okay, we can do that, but can you promise us something, too?”
“Sure. What?”
“If she proves to be a complete disaster this weekend, will you ask her not to volunteer for the next?”
“By complete disaster, do you mean—”
“Matt,” Sandro put in, “you know very well some volunteers can be more trouble than help. We can’t have someone who might be needier than the kids.”
Matt’s instant recollection of Dana’s story the day before made him realize there were many interpretations of need. “I can do that,” he said, stifling his anger, “but I also want a guarantee that you both will give her a chance.”
Kristen looked at Sandro, then nodded. “Fair enough,” she said.
Matt retreated to his own desk, all too aware of Sandro’s eyes on him. Childhood buddies were hard to fool and Matt guessed that Sandro suspec
ted there was a lot more to know about Dana Sothern.
Sometime later he decided to check on June and Gayle in the kitchen. And Dana. He rationalized that he ought to see for himself how well she was doing but knew he simply wanted to see her before she left. He was pretty certain she’d picked up the vibe from Sandro and Kristen, but he didn’t want her to have a negative start to her first weekend at Camp Hope.
There were two entrances to the kitchen, one from the dining hall, adjacent to the Big Room, and the other from the outside, at the rear of the lodge. He took that circuitous route so that he could also make a last inspection of the sleep cabins and the washroom facilities. Matt sighed as he surveyed the two older buildings. He couldn’t wait to get the washrooms renovated. If the camp got more funding. And the camp depended on its lease renewal with Willow Springs. So many ifs.
The boys’ cabin was shipshape and Matt noted Andy’s backpack in his room. When the camp was running full-time throughout the summer, Andy and Sandro would be spelling each other as nighttime supervisors. But Matt knew Sandro wanted to do more administrative work at KidsFirst and take less time away from the city, so hiring a new boys’ counselor was a priority.
So much depended on the outcome of the next funding campaign. Matt’s stomach clenched. Work stress coupled with worry about Esperanza was really doing a number on him. There’d been a time years ago when he’d have relieved the anxiety with a cigarette or a drink, but not anymore. Now he preferred the sweat and exhaustion of a gym workout and if he was lucky, he’d have time to fit one in before tomorrow.
He closed up the boys’ cabin and headed for the girls’. Dana, too, had left a backpack on the cot in the tiny room that would be hers for the weekend. Matt grinned. A designer backpack, he noted, eyeing the trademark logo, and thought, You can take a girl out of the city but... She had, however, thought to bring a small flashlight, which sat on the bed next to the backpack.
As he was leaving the cabin he noticed the bulletin board next to the door. Dana had posted the schedule for the weekend on it—and Matt told himself to get Andy to do the same—and had also stapled a poster that said Welcome to Camp Hope. She’d clearly designed and printed it herself. It was exactly the kind of illustrated poster Matt knew the girls would like—lots of color, flowers, rainbows and cute animals framing a background of a lake edged with trees.
Matt smiled. The poster hadn’t demanded a lot of effort, but the fact that Dana thought to welcome the kids with it made him think he’d been underestimating her. He didn’t know what kind of expectations she had about the camp, but a big part of him wanted her to like the experience. Why, he couldn’t say. Just that deep down he knew he didn’t fit the profile of a hero—at least, not the kind of hero she might have imagined him to be. So better the reality of camp life met her expectations, because he wasn’t certain that he could.
He closed up and headed for the kitchen. June was emptying the dishwasher, a new purchase last summer.
“Thank heavens for this,” she said as Matt walked in. “And if we get that money, maybe we can upgrade to the industrial model.” She winked, though Matt guessed she was secretly serious.
“All I can say is, put it on the list.”
“I bet that list is a long one by now.”
He couldn’t hold back a sigh. “Afraid so.”
“We can always hope,” June said. “Isn’t that the message here?”
“It is. And you’re right. Staying positive is what matters with the endless red tape and all the waiting.” Matt was grateful for her reminder about the purpose of the camp—to give the kids hope. He’d chosen his team well, picking volunteers and workers who would reflect that goal. Perhaps Dana would be able to also.
“I was looking for Dana.”
“She and Gayle were cleaning the dining room, but I think they’ve finished. I told them to leave when they were done. You might catch her in the parking lot.”
“Okay, thanks.”
As he went to exit, she said, “By the way, I think she’ll be fine. Dana, I mean.”
“Yeah?”
June nodded. “She’s not afraid of hard work.”
That made him feel better, but when he saw Dana’s car was gone, he felt some disappointment. He’d been hoping to part on a better note and pass on June’s compliment, as well as one of his own about the poster. That might have sent Dana home feeling a bit more positive about the coming weekend.
CHAPTER SIX
DANA WAS UP extra early and arrived at the camp well before eight. She’d had time to eat a good breakfast and make her own coffee, figuring she’d need all the fortification she could muster to get through what could be a long morning. Not to mention day. And then—she sighed—there was the night, too.
She’d silently repeated a pep talk the whole way here. You can do this, Sothern. You’ve wrangled hard-nosed execs and ace negotiators. You can handle ten little girls for less than forty-eight hours.
The most challenging part of the weekend would be ignoring Kristen’s sidelong glances and raised brows. What was with that woman? Sandro, too. They clearly weren’t happy about her presence. She’d learned long ago that other people’s problems belonged to them, not to her. What did matter was Matt’s opinion. She wasn’t certain why. After all, in two weeks, she’d be out of his life and he, from hers. It wasn’t as though her performance this weekend and next would affect a relationship because they didn’t have one.
As she drove up the dirt road to the lodge, she was relieved to see the single car already there was Matt’s. The hood was up and he was bent over, staring inside. She pulled up beside him and got out of her BMW.
“Car trouble?”
“It was overheating the last part of the way here. I thought maybe exposing the engine to the air would cool it down.”
“You think?”
He grinned at her cynical tone. “Can’t hurt, I suppose. You know anything about cars?”
“Only when to take them in for maintenance.”
They both laughed. “I guess that’s one thing we have in common,” he said, lowering the hood.
Nice to think they had at least something in common. Dana reached into the back seat of her car for her rain gear.
“I see you came prepared. The weather doesn’t look promising.”
Dana glanced up at the overcast sky. “I guess we might be having indoor activities after all.”
“I was hoping this first weekend would give the kids and you a chance to see how lovely the place is.” He looked upward again. “Maybe we can get in a hike before the rain.”
“Fingers crossed,” Dana said, warming to his comment about her and the kids. As if he cared about them equally, which she knew wasn’t the case but still...
“Yeah,” he was saying. “Fingers crossed.”
“Cheesy, I know, but my mother always said it. It’s one of the few things about her I actually remember.”
Matt’s brow wrinkled. “How old were you when—”
“Six.”
He shook his head. “That’s tough.”
“It was.” She locked her car remotely and said, “I’ll take this stuff into the girls’ cabin for now.”
He seemed about to say something but opted for a nod instead. She was halfway across the parking area when he called out, “The welcome sign. A nice touch. Thanks for that.”
Dana waved and kept going, but the remark cheered her. He was a bit more genial than yesterday. Arriving late had been embarrassing, but his stressing of the eight o’clock time had irked her. She wasn’t a child, and normally she wasn’t late. Her father—her boss!—wouldn’t have tolerated that. After she and Gayle had finished cleaning the dining hall, she’d thought of looking for Matt to reassure him she’d be on time. But the more she’d thought about his coolness after the meeting, the less inclined she’d been to see him, so she’d dri
ven home in a sour mood.
She deposited her gear in the girls’ cabin and took one last look around. The place was spartan and in need of decoration. The plywood interior—more inexpensive than the old cedar boards of the boys’ cabin—had been painted white but the military-style olive green blankets made the space dreary. Her welcome poster was the only hit of real color in the room. She touched it briefly on her way out, thinking she should have made it bigger, and headed for the lodge.
There were more cars parked at the side of the building now and Dana spotted a van in front of the kitchen door. June and a man were carrying in large plastic bins and cartons of produce and other foodstuff.
“Can I help?” she asked.
“Great. Thanks, Dana. This is my husband, Pete.” And to the man hefting a large cardboard box of what looked like canned goods and drinks, June said, “Dana’s a new volunteer.”
“Terrific. This outfit needs as many volunteers as it can get. Especially for its first full-time operation.”
Dana didn’t correct his impression that she’d be there for the summer but returned his smile and reached for a carton of hamburger and hot dog buns. Gayle was putting food in the refrigerator and stacking shelves with jars and cans. She glanced up to smile as Dana carried her box to the counter that ran around the perimeter of the kitchen. As she went back and forth from the rental van, Dana was thinking she’d rather work in the kitchen than with the kids. The women were friendly, and dish washing or veggie chopping might be preferable to dealing with ten-year-old girls. She’d never been able to relate to kids her own age and had never had opportunities to connect with them as an adult.
The sudden beeping of a horn startled Dana as she set a box of pantry supplies on the island in the center of the room.
“That’ll be the bus with the kids,” Gayle said, looking across the room at Dana.
“Oh. I guess I should be out there.”
Her Kind of Hero Page 6