The Clover Girls

by Viola Shipman

  “Hi, Mom,” I whisper. “I see you. You will never leave me, will you?”

  Tears fill my eyes, and I watch the world, somehow, continue, without my most important person in it.

  I feel the ground shake behind me, and I hear a car engine. The deer look up. I turn. A black car pulls into the parking lot. At first, I think it is someone from the county or the funeral home, but I see a familiar light and ride share logo in the window.

  One door opens in the back, and then another. Two figures emerge, and I emit a yelp. The deer scamper into the woods.

  Rach and V are standing in the parking lot. I wave. They drop their bags and come running toward me. They take me into their arms, a collective hug, and I sob until there are no more tears.

  “What are you doing here?” I finally manage to ask.

  “Your mom,” V says.

  “We had to come,” Rach says.

  “But camp. You left rope burn. I thought...” I babble.

  “You thought we were best friends,” V says. “And you were right. We all just needed to be reminded of that.”

  “Are you okay?” Rach asks.

  “No,” I say.

  They put their arms around me, and we stand, staring at the pond. The two deer step back out and begin to drink once again.

  “What do I do now?” I ask. “How do I go on? Where do I go?”

  “Summer camp,” V says, her voice soft. “Forever.”

  EPILOGUE

  Letters Home

  Summer 2022

  Dear Mom and Dad:

  It’s SO weird to write you a letter. I was joking to my friends that I felt like a cavewoman, and I should be chiseling symbols to you on a stone tablet. But, as you know, they don’t let us have our phones here, and they want us away from our computers, so I had to go old-school!

  You know how much I didn’t want to come here. I just want to apologize for yelling and screaming at you (and even refusing to get out of the car when we got here). I hate to admit when you’re right...but you were right. The first week at Camp Clover has probably been the best week of my life (except for when we went to Disney).

  But it didn’t start out that way at all. I was too scared to talk to anyone, and I barely slept my first night. When I did, I dreamed that you were driving away and never coming back to get me. I missed my room and how Bailey snuggles up against me every night and keeps me warm and safe. I woke up and wanted to cry. A counselor saw my face and knew I wasn’t okay, but I told her I was. At breakfast, I pretty much ate alone, even though I sat at a big table with all the girls in my cabin. I was about to go back to that counselor and ask if I could call you to come home, but a girl saw me standing outside my first activity—Creativity Camp—and asked me if I was coming. I nodded. She sat next to me, and we talked about our dreams and what we wanted to be, and then we made candles for Wish Night.

  That’s when everything changed! That night, I met the three girls who are already my best friends, and I know that we will be the rest of our lives. We’re all SO different, but it’s like the four of us were meant to meet, because each of us has a part that completes the group, almost as if the four of us make one perfect person. Their names are Violet, Ensley and Riley, and we’re all from somewhere different! And you want to know how we met? They all had the same wishes as me! Can you imagine that? Strangers out there in the world that I never knew had the same dreams as me: to love everyone, no matter our differences, to be a good friend to those who need one, and to want to change the world with our talent and vision.

  In a way, we are just like the candles we set onto the lake during Wish Night: Each individual burning brightly, but when we came together we created a single light so powerful that no one can ignore it.

  And the weirdest thing of all? We are all in the same bunkhouse, Pinewood, one of the original, old cabins!

  Oh! Let me tell you about them!

  Violet is super smart. She always has a book, is always reading and always telling us about something we don’t know. If you can believe it, she’s even shier than me, but sweeter than a Starbucks Unicorn Frap.

  Ensley is a dynamo! And she’s so pretty I can barely look at her sometimes. It’s like she’s not of this world...like she should be in Game of Thrones or something. Ensley wants to be a star. She already acts and has done a lot of regional theater. She even did a commercial when she was five. You probably remember it...it was the one for that fabric softener called “Sleepy”... Anyway, she already has over 100,000 Instagram followers, and she likes me!

  And then there’s Riley! She’s going to be a big director. She wants to change the way that movies are made and wants women to take charge of the business. I call her “Rileywood.” She seems like an adult already, but in a good way, like an old soul. Riley doesn’t take anything from anyone, and it’s weird how much people already respect her and Ensley. Riley does these short movies and videos on TikTok, and one of her movies got like 20,000 shares! (I have a lot of apps I need to buy for my phone so we can all stay in touch! Just so you know!)

  Oh! I forgot to tell you the biggest thing: the next day after Wish Night, we were all at our first bonfire. We were toasting marshmallows, making s’mores and singing camp songs when it hit me. I started to scream, and Ensley said, “Chill, girl.” Violet laughed, but they saw that my eyes were totally wide, and I was pointing at the four of us around the fire. “Ensley, Violet, Riley and me...!”

  Riley was like, “Um, yeah, we all know our names.” Violet asked, “Are you okay?” and then I started pointing at everyone again. They thought I was joking around, but I stopped and looked at them, the firelight all on my face, making me look really creepy. “You’re Ensley!” I said. “You’re Violet. I’m Emma. You’re Riley.”

  “We got it.” Ensley laughed.

  “No, you don’t,” I said. “The four of us! Our names! The first letters of our names... E-V-E-R! Friends Forever! Get it! ForEVER!”

  We all looked at each other, and that’s when they understood it.

  Ensley got real quiet and started pointing at everyone, like I just had.

  “Tu es une rêveuse, tu es une rêveuse, tu es une rêveuse, et je suis un rêveuse!”

  “Um,” I said. “Are you okay?”

  “It’s French,” she said. “I study French. And it all makes sense now! Dreamer in French is rêveuse! The first four letters of that are our names! R-E-V-E...we’re friends forEVER AND we’re all dreamers! From now on, we’ll call ourselves Les Rêveuses!”

  Then she taught me how to say it without me sounding like I was choking on something.

  We ran up and told V, Rach and Liz—you know, the “OG”—the actual Clover Girls who started Camp Clover—and they started laughing and hugging each other and singing some old song about friends. And then they told us all about their friend who died and how the camp came to be. They told us how they got their nicknames and how long they’d been friends (and even a time when they weren’t, if you can believe that).

  We all decided that we want to be just like them when we’re older. In fact, we’ve already made a pact: We’ve all agreed that, one day in the future, when we’re really old (like you and them, lol!) we are going to all live together and have our own camp for girls, just like V, Rachel and Liz. No boys allowed (we can talk to them, but they have to stay all the way on other side of the lake at Taneycomo! That’s where Liz’s boyfriend is!). It would be PERFECT! Camp will be our forever home, where we’ll take care of each other, always bring out the best in each other, always make each other laugh and feel safe. Most of all, we’ll know each other better than anyone, and we’ll always be there for each other, no matter what. Until then, we will support each other’s dreams forEVER and be friends forEVER!

  Every night here, before we go to bed, the bell chimes, and the entire camp sings “Land of the Silver Birch.” It’s so eerie and beautiful,
and the way everyone’s voices echo over the lake gives me chills but makes me feel safe.

  Blue lake and rocky shore,

  I will return once more,

  Boom, didi, boom, boom,

  Boom, didi, boom, boom,

  Boom, didi, boom, boom... Booooom.

  And then Les Rêveuses all say good-night to each other. Each of us says, “Sweet dreams, dreamers!” Sometimes, the other girls laugh at us, but we don’t care anymore. Because every time we do that, right before I close my eyes and go to sleep, I understand why you both wanted me to come to camp. So I don’t feel all alone. And I’ll never be alone as long as I have friends. That’s why you sent me here, wasn’t it? To make friends.

  I have friends now. And they make me feel happier and stronger and braver every day.

  I love you, Mom and Dad. And I love Camp Clover! See you in August!

  Em

  * * *

  Acknowledgments

  In many ways, my childhood was much like a summer camp. I spent summers with my grandparents at an old log cabin in the Missouri Ozarks. I slept on a cot. I spent summers fishing, swimming, canoeing, building campfires, roasting hot dogs and marshmallows on sticks, singing songs, telling stories and doing crafts—from making bark lampshades to building creek stone planters.

  I did go to camp, too. I attended church camp and, one summer, a tennis camp, not the easiest of camps for a chubby kid with little range of motion.

  In The Clover Girls, I write of traditional camp activities, from sing-alongs to swimming tests, color wars to candles on the lake. Those are important memories and traditions for kids, activities that build confidence. Mostly, however, the greatest thing about camp—and just being a kid—were the friendships. More than anything, I remember the friends I had as a kid. We shot bottle rockets into caves, played until the sun went down and my family had to call me in for dinner, ate ice cream when it was hot and stuck our bodies waist-deep into the freezer at the old general store to fish out grape Nehi.

  As I grew older, it seemed a bit harder not only to make great friends but to retain them. We grew up so fast. We moved away from one another. We changed. We got jobs. We married, had families, became “responsible.” Too often—and too easily—friendships fade. So do childhood dreams. I ask why we let that happen in The Clover Girls. I love the journey of the best friends FOUR-ever, “The Clover Girls,” in this book and how they reclaim their childhood joy, dreams, themselves and each other.

  The heart of this novel is as big as summer, as warm as the sand on a beach and as hopeful as a day of sunshine with nothing to do. I hope Em, V, Rachel and Liz stay in your hearts like your best friends. They remain in mine.

  And to my best friends: thank you for being you and letting me be me. As my mom always used to say, “A good friend is like a lightning bug. They light up your life when you need it the most and least expect it.” She was right. I would not be as bright as I am today without my friends lighting the way.

  And I would not be where I am without my “team,” whom I am proud to say have become some of my best friends.

  Writing a book may be a solitary act but publishing one is not. The Clover Girls is my eleventh(!) book and sixth novel, and not one would have been possible without my agent, Wendy Sherman, who has been on my side since day one of book one.

  To my wonderful editor, Susan Swinwood: thank you for pushing me to make this novel as great as it could be!

  To the entire publicity, marketing, art and sales teams—Roxanne Jones, Samantha McVeigh, Pam Osti, Lindsey Reeder—at Graydon House Books/Harlequin/HarperCollins, THANK YOU for your talent, tireless enthusiasm, expertise, hard work and belief in my work. I feel like I’m finally “home,” and having such support, safety and nurturing is a dream for any author.

  My foreign rights agent, Jenny Meyer, is always an unsung hero.

  Carol Fitzgerald of The Book Report Network is not only my website guru but also my sounding board.

  M.J. Rose and AuthorBuzz: thanks for your hard work, talent and creativity.

  To all the independent bookstores and booksellers across the US, thank you for your endless support, and keep hanging tough in these tough times. I’m proud to send every reader I come across your way.

  To all the libraries, thank you for being the hearts and souls of our communities.

  To Gary, dream nurturer, dream maker and dreamer: you are my everything.

  To my Sigma Pi fraternity brothers and beloved Little Sisters and Sweethearts from Drury College: we were the original ’80s group of friends, and whenever I hear Wham!, Madonna, Prince, The Outfield and “99 Luftballons,” I think of you and smile. (And want a beer!)

  To my friend Trish: you were and still are the model who originated the Tiger Pose! (Kitty, Kitty!)

  To my dear friends Judy and Kathy: thanks for your friendship, love, gardening tips and personal stories that helped inspire the novel and the character of Iris! (This note should have been in The Heirloom Garden, but I’m saying it here now!)

  The lyrics I refer to in the novel are from the traditional camp song “Land of the Silver Birch,” which friends from Michigan and Canada grew up singing at camp.

  And to all of you: it is a dream to wake up every day and write the types of novels I do, and that would not be possible without your incredible love and support. You buy my books. You read my books. You inspire my books. And you have become my friends because you share as much of your lives with me as I do with you. You understand that the world needs stories of hope more than ever these days. You realize that stories inspired by my grandmas’ heirlooms, lives, love and lessons are important. You know that stories that honor our elders, family memories and traditions are necessary. And you know that books that remind us of what’s most important in life never go out of style. You are my “Clovers” and “FOUR-ever Friends,” and I am honored to write novels that speak to your hearts, minds and souls.

  I’ll see you this fall with my first winter-and holiday-themed novel, The Secret of Snow. I can’t wait to bundle up and go on a snowy journey with you!

  XOXO,

  Viola

  The

  Clover

  Girls

  Viola Shipman

  Reader’s Guide

  Discussion Questions

  A major theme of The Clover Girls is friendship. Who are your best friends? Why are they? How did you meet? What have you gone through together over the years?

  Did you attend summer camp as a kid? If so, what kind: sleepaway, day, church, sports? Was it a good experience?

  Do you remember the friends you made there? Do you still stay in touch with any of them?

  What were your favorite activities at camp? What did you learn? What helped build your confidence as a young woman? Discuss.

  Do you think it’s easier or harder to make and maintain friendships as an adult? Why or why not?

  In the novel, I explore why women are often at odds with or do not support one another. Why do you think that is? Are women taught to be wary of or competitive with one another growing up? How can women support and empower one another better in life, work and society? Discuss.

  Have you ever had a falling-out with a best friend? What caused it? Did you try to regain that friendship?

  Has a close friend died? How did that impact you? How did you celebrate his/her life?

  Who we are as children—and the dreams we have—is another theme in the novel. Why do we too often lose or forget who we were when we were younger? Do family and society change us and our dreams too much? How do we recapture that?

  Family is a foundational theme in every novel I write. Liz’s children and family are not supportive of her, from helping care for their grandmother to supporting their mother when she needs it the most. Is your family supportive of you in times of crisis? Why are some people incap
able of caring for others, especially the elderly or infirmed?

  V, Rachel and Liz are all successful but not happy. Why do you think we too often pursue the wrong paths? Are we changing for the better or worse as a society in regard to that? Discuss.

  What defines summer to you and your family? What are your favorite summer activities and traditions, and why?

  ISBN-13: 9781488078095

  The Clover Girls

  Copyright © 2021 by Viola Shipman

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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