“Me too,” Lis says quickly. “You were a great co-counselor and I did not appreciate you.”
Wait, what? Am I in the Twilight Zone?
“You were both bitches,” Janelle says, and looks back and forth between them. “While I was nothing but nice to you.”
“You’re right,” Talia says, her voice soft. “I’m sorry.”
“We’re sorry,” Lis adds.
Janelle holds for a beat. She looks at Talia and then at Lis and then back at Talia. She opens her mouth and then closes it. Then she shrugs. “I try not to hold grudges. They’re bad for the soul. Gimme a hug!”
She lunges toward them both and wraps her arms around them.
Lis hugs her back while Talia pulls away a bit.
“Too much?” Janelle asks.
“No, it’s fine,” Talia says.
“I’m a little shocked here, ladies,” I say.
“We talked about it this morning,” Lis says. “And we decided apologizing was the right thing to do.”
“The weird thing is . . .” Talia hesitates. “I don’t know why I was so mean. I think it was because it was so easy.”
“Um . . . not sure what to do with that,” Janelle says, biting her lip.
“I don’t know either,” Talia says, and sighs again. “The girls I went to high school with were bitches. Locked me in a bathroom stall once for about three hours. Left a dead mouse in my locker.”
“Shit,” I say.
“Yeah.” She shrugs. “So when I started coming to camp, I just . . . I don’t know.”
“Thought if you made fun of other people, no one would make fun of you?” Janelle asks.
Talia nods. “Maybe. Like a strike first thing. You’re not the only person I’ve been an asshole to. But I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” Lis says.
“But maybe it’s not just about you being an easy target. I think we’re just so different. You’re just so out there with your guys and your brush and your tube tops. And the truth is, I’m not . . . I’m just not that into guys.”
Ah. “Do you like girls?” I ask.
“No,” she says. “Not like that. I don’t like anyone like that. Not the way you—not the way everyone—seems to.”
“Everyone’s different,” I say.
“Yeah,” she says. “Sometimes I just wish I weren’t.”
“I’m sorry for the things I said yesterday,” I say. “About the hand sanitizer and the wall signing. You’re not a freak.”
“No, you were right,” Talia says. “I am. But we all are in our own way. I just need to relax about it, maybe.”
“Eric gave me some of his pot,” Janelle says. “Want to try that? Very relaxing.”
I laugh. “Have you forgotten we are in charge of the welfare of children?”
“Goody-goody,” Janelle says, and blows me a kiss. “But fine. You’ll have to come visit me in Canada. Pot is legal there.”
“Deal,” Lis says. “Will we get to meet your half sister?”
“Maybe. I don’t introduce her to just anyone, and you guys are still on probation.”
“Fair enough,” Talia says. “I’ll try and behave.”
“And on that note,” Lis says, jumping up. “I am going to get some paint, so I can write all of our names in that empty spot right next to the door.”
I stand up, too. “Let me help.” I motion to the storm around us. “It looks like we’ll be stuck here for a while.”
On Saturday, Talia packs up the kids one at a time, while I take them to activities. They leave out their shower stuff, a fancy outfit, one pair of pj’s, and an outfit to go home in. The bus leaves at ten a.m. Since the counselors are all staying an extra night, we’ll pack ourselves up then.
“Are you sure you don’t want to switch?” I ask. “I don’t mind packing.”
“I am much more organized than you,” she says. “And you are a much better counselor than me.”
The kids are sad to say goodbye to their friends, but it’s been six weeks and they are only eight and nine. They miss their families and are excited to go home. They can’t wait to see their houses, pet their dogs, hug their cats, and sleep in their own beds.
They pass around their addresses and parents’ emails and promise to stay in touch. They promise to come back next summer.
We go through the lost and found. We recycle the empty shampoo bottles. We help them untape their pictures from the walls. They write their names everywhere with Sharpie.
I write my name beside my bed. Sam Rosenspan slept here.
On the last night, dinner is a banquet. Everyone gets dressed up in their fanciest outfits and we head to flagpole. They ask Ben and Lacy, the two youngest kids at camp, to lower the flag. “Walk, don’t run to dinner!” Jill says afterward, and the kids all run.
There are white tablecloths on the tables for dinner, and the plates are set out. Oooh, pretty. Then there are three courses—salad, then steak or chicken, and finally cake.
Instead of calling freeze, we tell the girls that this time the counselors will stack. They clap but help us clean up anyway.
After dinner, we’re told we have a short twenty-minute Free Play, and then we are to head to the Rec Hall. As soon as we get to the Rec Hall, the lights dim, the screen is pulled down, and we go right into the slideshow.
Nostalgic music like Green Day’s “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)” plays as pictures from the first day of camp scroll across the screen. Awww! It’s the girls getting off the buses! We all scream, “Lily!” as we see her walking down the road, smiling. Pictures go from day one through the first few weeks, and I love seeing candid shots of my girls. Playing softball. Eating Milk and Cookies. POTH!
Suddenly there are pictures of color war—of me and Gavin whispering and cheering.
“Go, blue!” someone yells.
The final color war picture is of us being pushed into the pool. The look on my face is pure shock and bliss.
I look over at Gavin, and he is looking at me. I smile. He smiles back.
I guess we’ll always have color war.
I look back at the screen and watch the pictures of the dance show, and Visiting Day. And there we are frog hunting! Woot!
My girls clap and scream out each other’s names as they appear on screen.
When the Superbowl pictures are done, the slideshow comes to an end.
The screen stays down, and we go right into a Sing-Song even though it’s Saturday. Jill plays the piano, while the words to all our favorite camp songs appear on screen, and everyone sings together.
We start with “Leaving on a Jet Plane,” and then move into “House at Pooh Corner,” “Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh,” “Hey There Delilah,” “Closer to Fine,” “One Tin Soldier,” “Summer Nights,” and “Breaking Up Is Hard to Do.” Finally we start singing “Stay (at Camp),” the final song. Everyone sings their parts.
“Why can’t we stay at camp,
Just a little bit longer.
We want to make our friendships,
Just a little bit stronger.
And the counselors won’t mind—”