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ChapterThirty-Five
TESS
If you look up the definition of embarrassment in the dictionary, there’s a picture of me on Shady Hill right now. And I’m sweating even more than usual because Spencer’s friends are watching me lead The Conductor Song. I met these people this morning. Now they’re looking on while the kids and I take turns playing invisible instruments.
The tuba is especially mortifying—our arms pumping while we oom pah pah—but the campers love the song so much, I get over my pink-cheeked blushing and love the moment too.
That’s something I’ve learned this summer. The happiness of these kids is infectious. Joy leaks from their smiles and blows up my heart. But in a good way.
The best way.
We’re playing air guitars and working our best fake-strumming, when Spencer comes toward us across the ranch. He must be done helping Clive now. And even though I’m keeping my distance from him—literally—I can see his frown from here. Poor guy. He must be so sad about missing their reunion. He leans in to say something to Milo, then all four of them confer. Nods and high-fives follow. Troy glances at me. Spencer doesn’t. They all take off across the ranch.
What’s going on?
As people trickle in for the barbecue, Mrs. Lockhart drifts over from the food truck. She claps and sings along with our song, really putting on a show for potential voters. I know she’s counting on me to keep the performance going, so even though I’m out of breath from my fake-tuba playing, I transition to another one of the kids’ favorite songs.
It’s about an Austrian who goes yodeling. And if you think my pretend tuba playing is embarrassing, my yodeling is a spectacle. At least Spencer and his crew aren’t watching anymore.
Thank heaven for small favors.
After one more song, I figure our fearless mayor has gotten her money’s worth. “Okay, kids,” I call out. “Time to eat!” The campers whose parents have already shown up, head off in search of food with their families. The counselors take the rest of the kids to line up by the grill and the food truck.
Me? I make a beeline for Mrs. Lockhart before she can start schmoozing too hard. “Do you know where Spencer went?” I ask, still a little breathless. I only want to find out, so I can be sure I don’t run into him, even though Ireallywant to run into him.
“WONDERFUL JOB!” she announces, loud enough for the families passing by to hear her. “I’m SO GLAD I hired you to be my camp director, Tess. Brilliant! BRILLIANT!” She beams at me, and my cheeks heat up again.
“Spencer,” I repeat, under my breath. “Where did he go?”
Mrs. Lockhart’s plastic smile wavers, but only for a second. “He asked my permission to take his friends on a tour of the ranch, and I told him of course he could, BECAUSE THIS EVENING IS SO WELL-ORGANIZED, WE DON’T EVEN NEED HIS HELP!”
“What about Clive?” I whisper. “Isn’t Spencer supposed to help him?”
“He said he’d get along just fine with the burgers on his own,” she mutters back. When a fresh group of people walks by, Mrs. Lockhart raises her voice again. “And yes, THE STEAMING WIENIE has enough HOTDOGS for the entire town!”
“They sure do,” I agree. My grin is enormous and phony. But I’ll do anything to keep Mrs. Lockhart on my side right now. We follow the group over to the grills and the food truck, where things are, in fact, running smoothly. That’s when the mayor pulls a bullhorn from her giant purse.
Wonderful.
“If you’re not afraid of grass and dirt,” she bellows into the bullhorn, “you can sit on Shady Hill.” She points at the folding chairs left out from movie night. “We also have chairs out here, and cafeteria-style seats inside the dining hall!”
Everyone lines up at the food truck or at the tables to serve themselves. Clive replenishes the platters of burgers while counselors refill the tubs of beverages and ice. I’m about to head over and grab a plate for myself, when a deep voice behind me says, “Hello.”
I spin around and find Frank Crane standing there. His hat is off, and he’s all washed up. “So.” He shuffles his feet. “Did my brother tell you?”
My heart scrambles like a hamster on a wheel.
This is the first time I’ve seen Frank since I found out about his wager with Spencer, and I can’t believe he’s asking me about this, directly. Sure, Spencer and I joked about the possibility. I said I’d only be honest with Frank if he asked me outright. But I never thought that would actually happen.
I don’t want to lie to Frank, and Spencer doesn’t want me keeping his secrets. But I can’t trust Frank. If I tell him the truth, he could insist Spencer forfeited the bet and make him pay up.
What do I do?
“It’s okay,” Frank mumbles. “I’m probably better off without her.”
Wait, what now?
He lowers his eyes, staring down at his boots. “Especially since she wants to get married and have kids. I might be up for that someday, but she’s in the market for a family immediately. So it’s really for the best. For both of us.”
