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Graham
Iwalk into my parents’ house and find Mom at the stove, preparing scrambled eggs. I kiss her cheek and take a seat at the island.
“Good morning, sweetheart. What brings you out this way?” she asks.
“I’m looking for Pop. I have a little time before I need to be out at Leona’s and thought we could ride out to the campground and take a look at the pool.”
She finishes and turns off the burner. She reaches into the cupboard above the microwave and retrieves three plates and sets them on the island.
“I can’t believe it’s leaking again already. You guys just replaced the liner last spring,” she says as she scoops the eggs on the plate.
“I know. It’s the weather. It’s been stormier than usual, and with all the trees out there, every time the wind blows, limbs end up in the pool. I think that’s how it keeps getting punctured.”
She loads the plates with bacon she had resting in the microwave and biscuits from the oven. Then, she pushes one of them in front of me.
That’s Mom. She had no idea I was coming over this morning, but after raising six sons, she knows to always make extra. I don’t think the woman could cook for just the two of them if she tried.
“What’s the solution, then? I hate to remove trees. They give good shade, and I think the campers like the feeling of being in the woods,” she asks.
I agree. The last thing I’d ever want to do is cut down trees if there is another way.
“I have a few ideas. I’m sure we can save the trees.”
“Thank goodness. Your father was ready to take a chainsaw to them yesterday,” she tells me.
“Are you talking about me again?” Pop asks as he comes into the kitchen and heads to the coffeemaker, pouring himself a mug.
She smiles up at him. “I sure am.”
He kisses her on the lips and smacks her behind, causing her to jump before he joins me at the bar to eat his breakfast.
“So, what are you thinking, son?” he asks as he salts and peppers his eggs.
“I think it’s time to consider converting it to concrete,” I suggest.
We’ve had this conversation before. Dad has always been opposed because of the time and cost it’d take to do the conversion. He doesn’t want to inconvenience his longtime renters with the construction mess, nor does he like the idea of having the pool unusable for several months because it is one of the amenities his guests look forward to enjoying.
The campground is an eighteen-acre resort that offers two hundred and fifty full-hookup gravel and grass sites for RVs, fifteen tiny chalets along the creek for weekly rental, a bathhouse, laundry, motorcycle shelters, fenced dog park, pool, and community pavilion with gas grills, a firepit, and a playground.
Many of the campers keep their RVs there year-round and have rented their sites for generations. They spend most weekends through the summer and a majority of their holidays in our valley. Mom and Pop consider them family. They have watched their kids grow up and have kids of their own.
Pop sighs. “I know you’re right. I was hoping this latest liner would last through the end of the summer. I hate for the children not to have the pool to play in.”
“That’s why I dropped by. Let’s go take a look at the tear. If it’s in a place where it can be patched, I’ll get one of my guys out there to drain it tonight and get it repaired. That way, it’ll be down two days, tops, to dry and then refill. We can have it open by the weekend. If we’re lucky, it will hold at least a couple of months. Then, we can close it for the season and start the construction. It will give us plenty of time to convert over the winter.”
He slides his eyes to me. He knows as well as I do that the winter months here in Balsam Ridge are unpredictable. We could be covered in snow from December to March, making construction projects complicated.
“That will make the pavilion area a construction zone, and people won’t be able to have bonfires or enjoy roasting hot dogs or making s’mores by the firepit,” he grumbles.
“He means, he won’t get to enjoy the s’mores and hot dogs everyone makes,” Mom teases.
“We can put up temporary walls and tents around the area. I think we can block off the firepit area and just sacrifice the pool and the stage. I know it sucks, but they will love the new pool. My guys can put in a tanning ledge for the moms to sunbathe on while their kids splash around. I’ll do a pebble finish, so it’s not rough on their feet, and if a pup jumps in, their claws won’t do any damage.”
Dogs are not allowed in the pool. They have their own splash pads in the dog park, but an occasional pet goes rogue and ends up taking a swim, and of course, we have our friendly neighborhood critters to contend with.
“All right, let’s see if it can be patched, and we’ll close it a tad earlier this year, so you can start in September. That way, you can beat the bad weather.” He gives in.
“Great. Let’s go,” I say as I stand.
“Can I finish my breakfast first?” he asks.
I look at my watch. “If you hurry. I have a crew at Leona’s, installing a generator, and I promised her I’d be by at lunch to inspect the work and teach her how it works.”
Mom takes my plate to the sink and refills my coffee cup.
“You know, Leona’s daughter and grandson are in town,” she says.
“Yeah, I met them yesterday,” I tell her.
She leans over the island. “Isn’t Taeli lovely? Leona shows me pictures of her and Caleb all the time. It’s just awful, what she’s been through. Leona is tickled that she finally left that no-good husband of hers.”
I shrug. “I guess. I only saw them for a minute.”
“Maybe when you’re out there this afternoon, you can chat. You know, make her feel welcome. I’m sure it’s hard, coming home after all these years,” she suggests.
I give her a stern look. “Mom,” I say.
“I’m just saying, she could use a friend.”
Pop chuckles, and she snaps her eyes to him.
“You’re as subtle as a brick through a window,” he states.
She tosses a potholder at his head. Then, her attention comes back to me.
“It wouldn’t hurt you to be nice to her,” she declares.
“I’m nice to everyone, Mom. I’ll be nice to Taeli and her kid too.”
