here,” Cal said, sitting on one of the small round tables.
“Okay.” She perched on the table facing him.
“I have an enormous favor to ask you. Please feel free to say no.”
“Well, that’s intriguing,” Ari said.
“I always check the forecast at the first of the week. It looks like we’re in for four solid days of rain.”
“Okay. Sounds challenging.” Ari knew how this happened during the summer, and she’d always felt so sorry for vacationing families who couldn’t go to the beach, where the sand was soggy and the windy air cold.
“Exactly.” Cal cleared his throat. “There are other camps, too, and they’ll be going to the library and the museums, any place inside, and it will be a squirrel cage. So I wondered…someone told me your grandmother has a big house with three floors. I was hoping we could have a scavenger hunt there.”
“Oh.” Ari was stunned. It took a moment for her to process his ask. “Wait,” she said, holding up her hand. “Let me think.”
Quickly she envisioned her grandmother’s house. It was large, and if you counted the attic, there were three floors. Fifteen children could roam up the front stairs and down the back stairs. Somehow they could shut off Eleanor’s bedroom. Ari’s, too. Those rooms were too personal for strangers.
Then she thought of the children. All those children, all day in the rain. On the one hand, she understood. Poppy’s house was too small for a scavenger hunt for the camp.
On the other hand, it was a weird thought: fifteen children, maybe a volunteer, and Sandy and Cal, all relative strangers, roaming her grandmother’s house. It was too intimate, too invasive.
“I don’t know,” Ari answered. “I need to ask my grandmother.”
“Thanks for even considering this, Ari,” Cal said. Leaning in, he hugged her—quickly, but firmly. She could smell summer on his neck and a faint trace of raspberry juice from their afternoon snack.
Ari worried about Cal’s request as she drove home, and she worried about her mother and father, and she worried terribly about talking with Peter.
“Hello!” she called, walking in through the kitchen door. The delicious aroma of beef stew stopped her in her tracks. It was, she thought, the best part of this unnerving day.
“Hello, darling,” Eleanor called back. “I’m in the living room. I made a stew. Look at the clouds. A storm is coming.”
Ari kissed the top of her grandmother’s head. “I’m going to take a shower, then I’ll set the table. The stew smells heavenly.”
Over dinner, Ari discussed Cal’s request with her grandmother.
To Ari’s surprise, Eleanor said, “Yes, why not? Not the attic, though. It’s already too disordered and chaotic. Children would get lost in there and never find their way out. Also, as you said, not my bedroom or yours or my sewing room. But we’ve got two guest rooms and a bathroom with a hamper and that old painted standing cupboard. Shadow likes to hide in there. He knows how to open the door. We’ll have to shut Shadow up in my room or he’ll be terrified. How about the basement? It’s got my exercise room and equipment.”
“You’re fabulous,” Ari said.
“The house is fabulous,” Eleanor told her. “It has seen many parties during its life. I think it will be glad to see one again.”
* * *
—
At Beach Camp the next day, Ari told Cal her grandmother had given them the okay.
“That’s great!” Cal said, spontaneously hugging Ari as gray clouds rolled into the blue sky.
Wednesday dawned cold and windy, with a sky threatening rain. They managed to give the kids some outdoor time in the morning, but by noon the rain was beginning. They had games organized in the community school room, and jumping jacks and other fun exercises to loud music. But Thursday the rain came down in buckets, hurled sideways by a howling wind, and by late afternoon, the children were antsy from being indoors. They drove them in the two minivans to the library, but another camp van was parked right in front of it. The foyer of the Whaling Museum was lined with adults and children trying to buy passes. Finally, they drove out to the Shipwreck and Lifesaving Museum, which was fascinating but small. Some of the children were too young to appreciate the roped-off ancient rowboats and fought to watch the video of the Andrea Doria sinking.
“Thank God we’ll have your house for them to stretch out in tomorrow,” Cal whispered to Ari.