“Exactly,” Cisco chuckled. “One would think your teens would have outgrown that behavior by now, but sometimes things learned at an impressionable age are hard to dismiss.”
Damn. Once again, Cisco could have been talking about her. Why couldn’t Hilly get out of her own head and move on with her life, confidently?
She shook off her self-absorption—a state she found herself more and more emersed in as she hung out with Cisco—because this was not about her. This was about her camp, her kids, and her counselors. And unlike when she was young—trying to deal with things pretty much on her own—Hilly now had charge. She was there to advocate for her kids and employees, and had a network in place; people whom she could tap into to approach problems such as these. Buffy was a huge part of that equation.
“You’re right. I need to at least talk to Lance first and find out what’s going on. If he’s conflicted as to exactly how Bailey’s treating him, I’ll enlist Buffy’s help to get to the bottom of it with the girl.”
“That’s a good plan,” Cisco agreed, then looked at his watch. “And as much as I hate not to get back to what we were doing before we were interrupted, I’ll sadly inform you it’s time to head down. But Hilly, don’t think that at the first opportunity, I won’t want to revisit what we were doing here.”
Hilly knew her terrible red-headed-blush was making an appearance again. She could feel it. But Cisco, rather than look at her askance, actually ran a gentle finger over one crimson cheek and smiled, as if he thought her reaction was…cute.
“I’ll take this lovely color as a yes,” he gloated, dropping a tender kiss to her nose, but not in an arrogant way that Hilly could have called him on.
No. The damn man was so sweet, she wanted to turn and suck that tracing digit into her mouth. Instead, to preserve what was left of her dignity, she headed for the ladder.
“You’re, um, right. You don’t want to be late for your class,” she told him, making sure her feet were well-planted on the rungs before she descended. The last thing she needed was to take a header so Cisco could add “clumsy” to the list of the negative attributes he’d assign to her after he found out who she really was.
As her sneakers hit the ground—and Cisco deftly reached terra-firma behind her—she changed the subject away from anything personal. “When did you say your friend Alvero would be here?”
Cisco grinned—as if knowing what she was doing—but went with it. “He was all ready to drop everything and come tonight, but I told him tomorrow morning would be fine. Your friend Buffy mentioned she has some basic first-aid skills, so she’s good covering until Alvi gets here. He knows that reveille is at seven-thirty, so expect him by then.”
With personal and business stuff out of the way, Hilly and Cisco chatted amicably about the camp and its history on their way back to the main campus where they parted ways at the pavilion so Cisco could get ready for his five o’clock class.
A gentle hand-squeeze and a wink were his parting gestures.
Hilly sighed deep within her chest, and walked giddily to the dining hall; Nel suddenly appearing at her heels.
“Hey sweetie. Where have you been?” Hilly asked as she bent down to give her best pup a long scruff.
Nel’s tongue lolled out of her mouth in ecstasy from the scratches, but of course didn’t answer. Although with how bright the dog was, Hilly sometimes thought she might.
“Come on, let’s ignore the man in the pavilion and go do our job.”
Nel trotted after Hilly into the busy dining hall.
Hilly gave a loud, piercing whistle. “Attention everyone. It’s time to clean up,” she announced after getting all the occupants’ eyes on her, although she could have saved her breath. Franny, a second-year counselor who’d been running the crafts session today along with five other counselors, already had things well along toward being packed away.
“Great job, Fran,” Hilly praised. “And I love the projects so far.”
She sent her gaze to a table on the periphery of the room that had been set up to hold crafts-in-the-works. There were popsicle stick structures, rocks being painted, and of course, gimp bracelets still dangling their loose ends. By the end of the summer, with artistic confidence boosted, the campers would progress to clay pots and wooden bird houses.
“Listen up for a second, please.” Hilly once again called out to get everyone’s eyes on her. “Take note of where you’ll be headed next.” She laid it out. “Group B, you’ll be with Officer Andera for self-defense. Group A, you’ll work on the ropes course. Group C, you’ll head to the archery range, and Group D, you’ll be tackling the climbing wall.”
The five counselors who weren’t spearheading crafts, would already be setting up those venues, using all the safety protocols Hilly had gone over with them, again and again. “Once those sessions are over, we’ll reconvene here for dinner. It’s my understanding that Mrs. S might have made lasagna.”
A cheer went up, as Hilly had expected. There weren’t many people who didn’t love lasagna. And the savvy woman made both meaty and vegetarian options.
“Okay. Looks like everyone’s ready to leave. Are there any questions for me before we move on?”
A girl by the door, looking slightly troubled, raised her hand.
“Yes, Ginny?” Hilly encouraged.
Sure, the kids all wore nametags for their first few days at camp, but Hilly had made a point to learn each and every one of her hundred campers’ names beforehand. It had taken days to flashcard her way through the entire group correctly, even with some returning kids on the roster. But she’d deemed it a necessary task; knowing that recognition went a long way toward building these kids’ self-esteem.
“I… Is Nurse Gorner gone?” The timid Ginny bit her bottom lip. “I was headed to the girls’ room, and I heard her call you…a bad name. She sounded mean.”
Dammit. It would have been too easy to have gotten away with sending the woman packing without anyone being the wiser.
Hilly gave the girl immediate, comforting assurance. “I’m so sorry you had to hear that, Ginny, but yes. Nurse Gorner’s employment here has been terminated. She…broke a rule, and I couldn’t allow her on the grounds any longer.” She gave the girl, and the rest of the room her best, brilliant smile. “Tomorrow, however, when you wake up, we’ll have a new medic on staff. During breakfast, I’ll introduce you all to a friend of Officer Andera’s who’s going to take over here for a few weeks until we can find a replacement who can stay for the rest of the summer. His name is Officer Deluthe, and he’s not only a certified paramedic, he was a camper here when he was your age, so he knows the property extremely well. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s eager to join in with a lot of our activities.”
That bit of information, which Hilly had purposely let slip, had the desired effect of getting the kids’ minds off the nasty nurse who’d been given the heave-ho. They began excitedly chatting amongst themselves while heading out the door to their next lesson.
Hilly’s task now, was to find Buffy, and there was no better way to track her down than to ask Nel. “Nel, baby, where’s Buffy?” she prompted. “Go find Buff.”
Hilly had expected Nel to join the line of campers leaving the building, but instead she turned around and pranced toward the doors into the kitchen.
“I see,” Hilly laughed. “Buffy’s helping Mrs. S with some taste-testing?”
Nel’s bright yip was answer enough to that question, which really hadn’t been a question at all. Buffy loved to eat. Almost as much as Cisco. It really wasn’t fair that the two of them—despite the amount of calories they ingested—maintained trim physiques. All Hilly had to do was look at food to blow up. She had to remain vigilant and work hard to balance her diet and exercise in order to keep to her target weight.
Hilly pushed open the swinging kitchen doors and was hit with the most delicious odor of sauce and bread. She breathed in, deeply. Thank God smells didn’t have calories.
“Hey, Hilly-billy,” Buffy greeted her, licking what looked like vanilla pudding from a wooden spoon. “Mrs. S is making mini-Boston cream pies for dessert. They’re to die for.” She took another long swipe before setting the now clean utensil aside.
Hilly snorted. “If she’s bugging you, Mrs. S, feel free to kick her out,” Hilly teased.
“And lose my best taste-tester?” Ellen joked back. “I don’t think so.”
