Summer at Willow Lake

As people moved toward the pyramid of fire, Philip pressed his hand to the small of Mariska’s back and veered off the path.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“As if you didn’t know.”

“Someone will see.” All summer long, she’d been as concerned about discovery as he was, determined not to earn a reputation for stealing other girls’ fiancés.

He took her hand and steered her toward the row of bunkhouses. “No, they won’t.”

Someone did see, though. As they headed away from the lake, a match flared, illuminating the contemplative, inebriated face of Terry Davis. He held the match at arm’s length so that its weak light winked over Philip and Mariska.

“‘Night, kids,” he said, an ironic smile on his face.

“Shit,” Philip said under his breath. “She’s not feeling well,” he explained to Davis. “I’m walking her … to her car.”

Davis’s gaze flickered. “Uh-huh.” He brought the match to the tip of his cigarette.

Philip and Mariska kept walking. “Never mind him,” Philip said. “He probably won’t remember anything tomorrow, anyway.” Despite the conviction in his words, he felt a thrum of apprehension in his chest. Over the summer, he and Mariska had grown increasingly inventive when it came to finding places to make love. They’d done it not just in the boathouse, but in some of the boats. In the panel van Mariska drove on her bread deliveries. On the bridge over Meerskill Falls.

Tonight, they decided to risk sneaking into the bungalow. As a senior counselor, he had private quarters, and there, illuminated only by a single night-light, he took her in his arms, leaning down to bury his face in her fragrant hair. “I can’t wait to be with you forever.”

“You’re going to have to. I better not stay out too late tonight. I’ve got a doctor’s appointment first thing in the morning.”

He pulled back, studied her face. “Are you okay?”

“Just a checkup,” she said.

A sigh gusted from him. “Whew. I’m going to miss you so much.”

With delicate fingers, she unbuttoned the front of his shirt. “How much?”

“More than you know.” He caught his breath as she parted his shirt and pressed her lips to his throat.

“You’ll probably forget all about me once you’re back at college with your rich fiancée and high society friends.”

“Don’t talk like that. You know it’s not true.”

“All I have is your word for it.” Despite the accusation, a teasing note lightened her voice. “The rich boy’s word. What do rich girls do all the time, anyway?”

“They let rich boys make love to them,” he said, unzipping her dress in a smooth, practiced motion. He was excited now, but forced himself to slow down. He undid one cuff link and slipped it in his pocket.

“Those are pretty,” she said, admiring the glint of silver.

“They were my grandfather’s.” He removed the second one and placed it in her hand. “Tell you what. You keep one, I’ll keep the other. After I … when I come back for you, I’ll wear them again at our wedding.”

“Philip.”

“I mean it. I want to marry you. I’m giving you this little hunk of silver now. After this is all straightened out, it’ll be a diamond ring.”

Her eyes sparkled up at him as she dropped the cuff link into her handbag. “I’ll hold you to that, too. In fact, I’ve got my dream ring all picked out.”

“At Palmquist’s, where you work?”

“Very funny. At Tiffany’s.”

“Ha. I can’t afford Tiffany’s.”

“Sure you can. Your parents are loaded.”

“But I’m not. In this family, we make our own way in the world.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

He laughed and skimmed her dress down over her shoulders, watching it pool on the floor. Then he reached around and unfastened her bra. “You’re going to be the bride of a poor but noble public defender.”

“Okay, now you’re scaring me.”

He caught his breath as the bra came away; then he found his voice again. “The only thing that scares me is leaving you tomorrow.”

CAMP KIOGA SONGBOOK

The bear went over the mountain,

The bear went over the mountain,

The bear went over the mountain,

And what do you think he saw?

Five

“Why do I keep flashing on scenes from The Shining?” asked Freddy Delgado. He hummed an ominous sound track as Olivia drove their leased SUV up the narrow, patchwork-paved country road toward the town of Avalon.

“Believe me,” she said, “that’s not as horrific as the flashbacks I’m having. I spent a lot of excruciating summers here.” She still couldn’t quite believe she was doing this. The simple act of driving felt foreign to her, since she never drove in the city. Right up to the last minute, her mother had tried to talk her out of the renovation project, but Olivia was determined. Her father had been more supportive. When she’d told him goodbye the previous night, he’d held her close and wished her luck.

“Why excruciating?” asked Freddy. “It looks like the perfect place for summer.”

She eased up on the accelerator as a chipmunk darted across the road. There were things she’d never told Freddy—or anyone—about her life. “I was sort of a misfit.”

“You?” He snorted with a disbelief that made her feel flattered. “What is this, a camp for freaks and geeks?”

She gestured at the photo album, which lay on the seat between them. The thought of him getting a glimpse of her past was discomfiting, but she had to trust him. Who besides Freddy would drop everything and agree to spend the summer at a remote Catskills camp, trying to bring back the charm of a bygone time? Of course, being jobless and homeless was a clear incentive, but now it was too late. He was already flipping through the old photos.

“Find the group shot from 1993. Saratoga Cabin, Eagle Lodge,” she instructed him.

He flipped it open and scanned the collection of photos. “Looks like a breeding program for the Aryan nation. Geez, did everybody have to be tall, blond and hot to go to camp here?”

“Look closer. Back row, on the end,” she said.