about the kids when they eventually returned? How in the world could she protect them?
27
SHE STOPPED FOR a late lunch on the deck of a roadside tavern. It was hot out, but a light breeze tousled her hair. She glanced up. Though the sky had been clear when she’d left Manhattan, big cumulus clouds had begun to herd together along the horizon.
When she rummaged for her wallet to pay the bill, she checked her BlackBerry. This was a stretch of the road where she had service back and she noticed there was a missed call—from Rory.
“Call me as soon as you can,” the message said. “It’s important.” There was an edginess to Rory’s tone.
She tried calling Rory back, but an answering machine picked up. “You’ve reached the Deevers,” Rory’s voice said. “Leave a message and we’ll get back to you. Have a nice day.”
Next she tried Rory’s cell and got voice mail as well. When they’d met yesterday, Rory had said she might want to talk this weekend to review the plan. And yet the word important in her message was a flag. Lake just hoped Rory hadn’t changed her mind.
The last leg of the trip was only thirty minutes long. The wind had picked up and the clouds were growing darker and thicker, crowding each other so that they pushed up high in the sky. It was going to rain, and rain hard, probably thunder and lightning. Lake pictured the counselors at the water park, hurrying the kids into their clothes and onto the bus.
The camp seemed nearly deserted when she arrived. There were only four or five cars in the parking lot, and once she climbed the hill and reached the main grounds, she saw just two people—a male counselor collecting an archery board that had toppled over in the wind and an older man dragging a net bag of soccer balls across the parched lawn.
She approached the counselor and asked for directions to the infirmary. He pointed to a small, roughhewn cabin nestled in a cluster of fir trees. As she entered the building, with its row of old-fashioned, metal-framed beds, she saw that Amy was the only patient. At first Lake thought her daughter was sleeping—she lay with her eyes closed and her thick braid of brown hair flopped on the pillow. But at the sound of Lake’s footsteps, Amy’s eyes shot open.
“Mom,” she said hoarsely. She let out small moan of relief.
“Oh, sweetie,” Lake said, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling Amy to her.
“I don’t have strep,” Amy told her with a weak smile. “I mean, my throat still hurts a lot, but they said it’s a virus.”
“Well, maybe it will clear up faster, then. Is the nurse here?”
“She went over to the mess hall to get me some Jell-O.”
“I brought something to cheer you up.” Lake pulled a tissue-wrapped package from her purse and offered it to her daughter. Inside was a small, funky bracelet she’d bought weeks ago and put aside for Amy’s birthday.
Amy tore the tissue off and beamed when she saw the bracelet.
“I love it. Thanks, Mom. I’m so glad you came.”
“Me, too.”
A screen door banged and they looked in unison in that direction. The nurse, a fortyish woman with a short choppy haircut, was back. She introduced herself and set a tray down on the little table that swung out from Amy’s bed. There was a cup of tea and the promised Jell-O, along with a stainless-steel spoon that was dull and thinned from a thousand washings.
“Did Amy tell you that the strep test came back negative?” the nurse asked.
“Yes. Though that means there’s nothing you can give her, right?” Lake said.
“Only bed rest. But the good news is that it should run its course in just a couple of days.”
Lake chatted politely with the nurse for a minute and then turned her attention back to her daughter. Amy seemed needy of her company, and yet it clearly hurt her to talk.
“Why don’t I give you a back massage?” Lake offered.
“Hmm,” Amy murmured happily.
As her hands kneaded the muscles in Amy’s back, Lake realized that her daughter’s body had become more muscular this summer, and yet there was still something so girlish about her soft skin and thin shoulder blades. Lake found herself getting tearful, almost fraught. I can’t lose you, she thought. I have to make things work.
After a while she glanced at her watch. It was just before five. The bus might already be back.
“I