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For my swing that Monday morning, I would head to 28’s local farm in Amagansett. In Z’s one and only botany interview, he’d said he tended to his vegetables at 10 A.M. daily in order to prep the menu for that night. I sussed out that the sous-chefs arrived a little before he did. I was going to befriend one of them, and convince them to walk me through the gardens (show me the springing mushrooms and tomatoes and herbs). I would “happen” to be there when Chef Z arrived. So he would see my eagerness to understand another aspect of how he did what he did. How many members of his kitchen staff did that? How many people in charge of the trash?
My plan was to take Sammy to camp and then head to the farm. Except, just as we arrived, Sammy hesitated before getting out of the car.
“I won an award at camp,” she said.
I was reviewing my knowledge about summer fruit, thinking of something interesting to say to Z. So I didn’t respond at first—and then Sammy continued.
“I made a contraption that waters the plants at night,” she said. “While we sleep. It’s pretty great.”
My eyes ticked to the clock on the dashboard. “That’s great, Sammy. Good for you.”
“They’re having assembly today to show the inventions.”
“Did you tell your mom? She definitely would want to be there.”
“I know she has to be at work, so . . .”
I knew what she was asking. I knew what I was supposed to say. What she wanted.
Sammy shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”
I closed my eyes, doing the math. If the ceremony took less than an hour, I’d probably be okay.
“So how about if I come?”
She turned and looked at me, and I guiltily hoped she’d argue. “All right,” she said.
She didn’t look out the window. She looked right at me, as if calling my bluff.
My heart dropped, and I almost rescinded the offer. Six or not, she was getting in my way. Amber’s irritating vlog was playing on repeat in my head, and I knew the only way to get rid of her was to get rid of her. To beat her at her own game. In order to do that, I needed to get to the farm and intercept Z. And I desperately wanted to stop for a coffee before I did. The thermos I’d brought from the house was making me incredibly nauseated. Normally I could drink any drudge, which seemed like further proof that I was allergic to Montauk.
And now there was a little girl, making a little girl face—which was hard to resist. If I were stronger, I would have resisted it. Or maybe that would have been proof that I wasn’t strong enough.
I put my hands back on the wheel. “Show me where to park.”
28
The assembly lasted for five hours.
At least, it felt that long.
All these little kids did their demonstrations—sometimes in groups of twos and threes. And it seemed like Sammy was never going to be up. Sammy hadn’t mentioned that she was getting her award last—the finale to the entire assembly. Sammy was given her award last because, as Sammy hadn’t made clear, it was the most important award.
She headed to the front of the auditorium to do her demonstration, and the head counselor, a woman named Kathleen, stood proudly behind her. Kathleen was pretty in a librarian kind of way. She had porcelain skin, and long red hair, which she wore in a low ponytail. Her adoration for Sammy was obvious. After each part of Sammy’s demonstration, she cued up the audience to applaud, which we did.
When Sammy was done, the counselor put her hand on Sammy’s shoulder. “Was that fantastic or what?” she said.
From my seat in the second row, I tried not to laugh as Sammy did everything in her power not to physically remove that hand.
“Sammy Stephens has proven herself to be quite a star,” Kathleen said. “The fact that she is already designing a self-sustaining irrigation system, when we are only touching on water during geology . . . well, I just want to say, H2U. Here’s to you!”
Everyone started laughing. Water humor, really? I had clearly stumbled into the nerdiest camp in America.
Kathleen handed Sammy a ribbon—they still gave out ribbons?—and I saw a smile break out on Sammy’s face. It stopped me. What was I feeling? There was no denying it. Pride.
As everyone started to exit, Sammy ran up to me, holding up her ribbon.
“Did you watch?” she said.
