“I don’t know why you don’t want to be here, but I’m sure you have your reasons. If you’re going to leave, why not let your mom go and get this over with? The sooner she goes, the sooner you can, too.”
Townsend assessed her for a moment. She did have a decent point. Staying in the limo now was only annoying her mom, and she’d probably done enough of that for one day. “Okay. Do they sell cigarettes here?”
“Unless things have changed, there’s no camp store. Even if there was, they wouldn’t sell cigarettes.”
“Mmm. They should look into that. They could make a mint.” She grabbed her backpack, tapped on the window and blew the driver a kiss, then followed Hennessy out of the car.
Her mother walked over at a quick pace. Her meds must have been wearing off. “Happy?” she demanded. “You’ve embarrassed me, as usual, and almost made me late.”
“I’m reasonably happy.” She dropped the cigarette butt and ground it out with her foot. “Where should these fine people ship my dyke ass when they’re sick of me? Which should be in about…” She narrowed her eyes and did the math. “Two hours, give or take.”
Her mother looked to the warden, who’d averted her eyes, like she couldn’t stand to watch. Hennessy’d found something on the ground that caught her interest too. Wimps.
“I don’t know,” renowned writer and sub-par mother Miranda Bartley said, showing signs of defeat. “You certainly can’t be trusted in Boston, and the Martha’s Vineyard neighborhood association would put up blockades to keep you out.”
“Maybe I’ll follow you around Europe.”
Lines had formed around Miranda’s eyes. She looked tired too, or maybe she really did need a pill. “That sounds like a tremendous amount of fun, but I’ll pass. I suppose you’ll have to call your father to fetch you. It’s his turn.” She grasped the warden’s hand, shook it quickly, then started for the limo. “I’m very sorry for…everything,” she said before getting inside and closing the door. The car silently slipped away, sending up tiny clouds of dust as it drove out of sight.
“Now what?” Townsend asked.
“I need a minute with Hennessy,” the warden said, slipping an arm around the girl’s waist as she led her away.
Townsend watched them walk into the building, seeing how friendly they were. The damn warden and some gangly kid showed each other more affection than she ever got from her own mother. She took out another cigarette and lit it, sucking in a deep drag. The warden was probably a pedophile. Why else would you voluntarily hang out with a bunch of kids?
Mary Ann walked into her office, opened the small refrigerator by her desk and took out a bottle of sweet tea. “Would you like one?”
“I would.” Hennessy accepted the bottle, opened it and took a long slug. It wasn’t as good as Gramma made, but not many things were.
Mary Ann sat down behind her desk, a nice, old one her father had used. Watching her adjust her chair, then fussily reposition the desk set, made Hennessy feel like she’d come home.
The building was both the camp office and Mary Ann’s cabin. Hennessy had never seen a rich person’s summer lodge, but this was what she supposed one would look like. Rough-hewn walls and floors, braided rugs, a large red plaid sofa and a supple leather easy chair filled the main room, where they’d often sat and talked about camp and life. There were doors leading to a bedroom and bath, but Hennessy’d never seen those private spaces. Then there was this office, probably intended as a second bedroom—a place she’d rarely been. Being here now showed this wasn’t a social call. “Guess what I want to talk about?”
As always, Mary Ann was direct. Her hazel eyes were wide open, guileless. But they were also kind. Hennessy had never been afraid to tell her the truth, or to show her fears.
“Mmm…the weather?” She tried not to fidget, but it was tough to sit still when Mary Ann fixed you with her penetrating gaze.
“Right,” she said, laughing. “That little storm cloud out in the driveway.” Mary Ann took a sip of her drink, then frowned as she looked at the bottle. “My mother would be ashamed to know I paid good money for sweet tea that bad.”
Hennessy stifled a smile and pointed out the window. It was time to get this over with. A cabin full of kids who wanted to be here were waiting for her. She was responsible for those kids and knowing they might be wandering around aimlessly made her stomach ache. “The storm cloud…?” she prompted.
“Right. I guess I can’t put this off any longer.” Mary Ann put her hands on her desk and gave Hennessy a long look. “I know I expect a lot from you, but Townsend is one reclamation project I’d really like for you to take on—if you’re willing, that is.”
“Have I angered you in some way?” Hennessy tried to sound like she was joking, but she truly wasn’t. The last thing she needed was a reclamation project.
“Of course not. Townsend is a very troubled young woman, and I’d love to be able to help her get her life on track. Her mother acted like she had no plans for what to do with her if we can’t handle her, but we discussed it long before I agreed to accept Townsend. There’s a service on standby back in Boston if needed.”
That caught her attention. She stopped fidgeting and tried to make sense out of that comment. “A service? What kind of service?”
Mary Ann took another drink, made a face and put her tea down. “I guess you can pay people to do nearly anything. Someone’s going to babysit her.”
“We didn’t talk for long, but I’m pretty sure that’s not going to work.” The whole situation puzzled her, and puzzles had always kept her attention. Hennessy sat up straight and rested her forearms on the desk, all worries about her other campers fizzling away. “Why can’t her mother watch her?”
“She’s going to be in Europe all summer on a book tour.”
“A book tour? She’s a writer?”
“She is. Miranda Bartley was popular before, but now that they’ve made that hit movie from one of her books her popularity has gone off the charts.”
Hennessy gasped. “I had no idea.” She got up and moved about the room, lightly touching framed photos of previous classes, seeing herself smiling like a fool during her first year. That seemed like an awfully long time ago…an easier time.
“Miranda promised to offer a seminar next year—gratis—if we can keep the little devil here all summer.”
“Dang… I’ve never read her work, but it sure is popular. That would draw some attention to the program.”
“Yes, it would, but you know that’s not how I do business. I’m more concerned about the girl than I am about her mother’s promise. I honestly think the kid could learn something from being here all summer, and having you as a role model could give her something to aspire to.”
The thought filled Hennessy with dread. Townsend was way, way out of her league. “She seems bound and determined to get out of here, and I don’t think I can change her mind.”
“Will you try? You can bend the rules any way you need to as long as it’s legal. Figure out what she likes and reward her when she does something well. Do whatever you have to do, but don’t let the little hellion win. I’m afraid winning this time might destroy her.”
Hennessy tried to take the sting from her words, but it wasn’t easy. Sitting down again, she met Mary Ann’s gaze and told the truth as she saw it. “She’s another spoiled brat who’ll be spoiled once again as soon as she leaves. Let her go so we can focus on the kids who want to be here.”
Mary Ann didn’t respond immediately. She had a funny look on her face—like she wasn’t sure if she was going to say more. Finally, she clasped her hands together and looked down on them. “Don’t share this with anyone, but Townsend almost died a few months ago. Alcohol poisoning.”
Hennessy gasped, closing her eyes as the news hit her. “She’s just a kid.” Her guts were in knots. This was all hitting too close to home. She slid back in the deep chair, as if a few inches could give her some emotional distance.
“True.
But she has an adult-sized drinking problem. She was in a coma for days. Her mother said the doctors didn’t expect her to pull through.”
Hennessy looked at the floor, afraid to show even someone she trusted how sick this made her. “Was it a binge-drinking thing? A lot of kids get crazy drunk once in a while.”
“Townsend claims it was an accident, but after reading the report from her doctor, I’m not so sure.”
“You read her doctor’s report? Aren’t those…private?”
“They should be. Mrs. Bartley hired a service to find a placement for the girl for the summer. This service prepared a packet of information, including a report from her psychiatrist.” She frowned. “I suppose they wanted to give everyone fair warning. Maybe they were worried about lawsuits.”
“This sounds way over our heads, Mary Ann. Wild kids are one thing—”
“I don’t think she’s just wild. I think she’s lonely and frightened and begging someone…anyone to care. Kids don’t get into the trouble Townsend’s been in just to show off.” Mary Ann’s voice lowered and she spoke as though someone might overhear them. “I know you’ve put in a lot of hours at Al-Anon meetings, and I thought out of everyone you might have some idea of how to reach her.”
“I’ve been in Alateen for five years, but that doesn’t make me an expert. It’s just given me some skills for dealing with the alcoholics in my life. I’m not sure I’m ready to add a new one to my roster.”
“If this will be too hard for you, I’ll send her on her way right now. But if you’re willing to help keep an eye on her…”
Seeing the confidence in her eyes, confidence Hennessy knew she’d earned, made it seem like an awfully small request. “I can hold my boundaries with her. I’ve learned that much, I think. It won’t be fun, but I’m sure being paid enough to put up with some aggravation. I’ll give it my best.”
“You always do. That’s one thing I know I can rely on.”
Townsend watched Hennessy leave the building and head for her. The overly bright smile was a con. This kid was working for the other side and couldn’t be trusted.
“Hey,” she said when she stood next to Townsend. “It’s almost three. We need to head over to our cabin.”
“What part of ‘I’m leaving’ did you miss?”
“I know you’re planning on going, but there’s only one flight a day that goes to Boston and you missed it.”
“Oh, fuck! Then I’ll go somewhere else. How about New York? I can take a train from there.”
“Service only goes to Charlotte, then you have to change planes. The last flight out’s around four. The airport’s really small.”
“God damn it!” She reached into her pocket, took out her cigarettes and lit one, noting her hands were shaking. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Come with me. We’ll go meet the other girls. Maybe you’ll like them so much you’ll wish camp lasted all year.”
“That perky attitude might work for some people,” Townsend said, unable to keep the scowl on her face. “I’m not one of them.”
“Come on,” Hennessy insisted, tugging on the sleeve of her shirt. “Our counselor’s really nice. You’ll like her.”
“I’ve had my fill of counselors.” Reluctantly, she found herself following along. Hennessy might have been a rat, but she had a pretty charming personality. And hanging out with her had to be as much fun as sitting in some tiny airport waiting for a flight that wasn’t going to come.
“H…H…Hi. I’m Hailey Grant and I’m fourteen.” The scrawny, terrified-looking kid was about to pass out from the stress—of introducing herself. Of all the lockdowns in the country, this was the one her birth mother chose? “I’m from Athens, and…” She stopped, swallowed and added, “Georgia, not Greece.”
Townsend tried to keep from falling asleep. There was no need to learn anyone’s name. Like she’d waste her time with these tools. Every one of them was younger than she was, which was insulting. It had been a couple of years since she’d hung out with people her own age, much less a year or two younger. No, there was only one person Townsend wanted to learn more about, and that was her cabin leader.
Hennessy was so encouraging it was laughable. The smile she gave that poor kid could have lit the room. And she was just earnest enough to have it be genuine. “Thanks for telling us a little about yourself, Hailey. Any time you want to add something, jump right in. Devlin? Let’s hear a few words from you.”
Hmm, this one had a little potential. “I’m Devlin Wallace, from Charleston. I’m here to work on my poetry.”
“How old are you, Devlin?” Hennessy asked.
“I’m fifteen. But my mother says I’m going on thirty.”
Everyone laughed while Townsend gave her a second look. She was cute, and seemed a little jaded, but probably too young for any serious fun. No, she was going to have to concentrate on Hennessy.
She was fuckable. Totally fuckable. Giggling to herself, she thought of her birth mother’s constant reminder to stretch and improve her vocabulary. Fuckable was too simple. Hennessy was…alluring…fetching…captivating…winsome? Was that right? She always mixed that up with wistful. Whatever. No matter what you called her, Hennessy was the best looking kid in the whole place. It was hard to tell how old she was, but she was definitely older, probably in college. Her jet-black hair was thick and glossy, like she’d recently gotten a Brazilian blowout. And she was tall, taller than Townsend by at least three inches, and rangy. A sky blue polo shirt set off her vivid blue eyes, and roomy khaki shorts exposed long, shapely legs.
Hennessy’s pronounced Southern accent, and leisurely, soft, alto voice made it seem as if she were in slow motion. Townsend was used to the nearly frantic speech patterns of her native Boston, and she felt a moment of sympathy for the slow Southerner she was facing off against. It’d be much more fun if they were more evenly matched. Having a battle of wits with an unarmed opponent was almost cheating. But at least it would only last a day. She’d be on her way home tomorrow—at the latest—all fuckability forgotten.
Chapter Two
Hennessy stood outside of her cabin, trying to stay under the stripe of shade the sloping roof provided. This was the part of the day she’d cut out if she were in charge. Too early for dinner, too late to nap. The humidity made the air limp and wet, without a single leaf fluttering. And the damned mosquitos were already out.
Destiny, one of the camp’s three counselors, stood next to her. They’d become friends when Hennessy was a newby and Destiny had Hennessy’s current job. She was just three years older, but at the time she’d seemed like an adult. Not so much now. She’d either stopped trying to appear older or Hennessy had grown up. Maybe both.
“Looks like you’re going to have a great summer,” Destiny said, her bright smile highlighting perfect teeth. The sun caught a few of her twists, making the dark hair gleam. “You’re gonna have your hands full with that little Bartley.”
“I think I am.” Hennessy shoved her hands into her pockets and rocked back on her heels. Mary Ann must not have told Destiny about the drinking or the coma or any of that stuff. And Hennessy sure wasn’t going to be the one to spill any secrets. “Any advice?”
“I can’t think of much. If she really wants to leave—”
“Oh, she does. She surely does. But if she leaves, she’s not going home. Her mother hired some kind of service that’s going to watch her.”
“Sucks to be rich,” Destiny said, her wry laugh bouncing off the nearby cedar siding. She’d been a scholarship kid, too, but Hennessy was pretty sure Destiny’s family was a step or two higher on the class ladder than her own.
“I’d much rather have a kid who’s excited about camp, but Mary Ann says Townsend needs to be here. She’s usually right about things like that.”
“Yeah, she is. But”—she checked her watch—”I’ve got to get over to Night Heron.” Clapping Hennessy on the shoulder, she said, “This is going to be more work for you. Are you okay with that?
”
“I suppose I am. If someone’s got to ride her, I’m probably the best choice.”
“I think so too. You’re almost her age, and she might listen to you. Or at least not ignore you as much as she would me or the other counselors. Do you think you can handle her?”
“I guess so.” She started to feel a little sick about the whole thing. If Mary Ann really wanted Mrs. Bartley to teach that class…
“Use the carrot or the stick. I’ll back you up.”
“I’ll try the carrot,” Hennessy said. “But I’ll keep the stick close by.”
“Whatever works. Bring me in anytime you need to. You’ve got the two-way, right?”
Hennessy patted the radio that let them all keep in touch despite the poor cell phone reception on that part of the island. “Right in my pocket. Thanks, for the pep talk. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Ten o’clock. Counselors’ cabin.”
“I’ll be there.”
Hennessy went back inside, reflectively sniffing the big basket of pine cones sitting on the table in the common room. It was just a cabin, but it was damned homey. They didn’t have little decorating things in her house, and she noticed every one. One day she was going to have her own place. A nice one. And she liked to store ideas away for when the time came.
She’d been dreaming about camp for months, finding herself more and more excited as the days ticked by. In her dreams, she had a cabin full of eager, excited kids, just like she’d been. But having to corral Townsend was already taking the edge off that fantasy. As she passed her room—her single room—she reminded herself that you didn’t get the perks without the pains.
The Right Time Page 2