Family Ties

“Sometimes your first love doesn’t last. I guess that was the case with Gina and me. It wasn’t meant to be. I’ll always love her, and I want her to be happy, but it’ll have to be with someone else, not me.”

Erin nodded. Then she glanced at Christy. “Sorry to bring that up. But since Paul mentioned it, I figured you knew.”

“Some of it,” Christy said. “Although not the part about how everyone expected them to get married.”

“Even Paul probably didn’t know. He’s kinda slow on the uptake sometimes. Maybe you noticed.”

“I did,” Christy said with a sideways grin at me. “It took him forever to realize I liked him.”

“What can I say? I was distracted by your beautiful… eyes.”

Christy rolled the eyes in question.

“Okay, he’s totally right about that,” Erin said. “Your eyes are gorgeous.”

“Thank you.”

“And if you won Paul’s heart, then you must be extra-special.”

“She is,” I said.

“Wow,” Christy said, “I need to hang out with you guys more often.”

“Well, me for sure,” I said. “Erin’s just trying to get on your good side.”

“And why wouldn’t I, you big doofus? Sounds like she’s going to be around for a while.”

“I hope so.”

Christy took my arm again. “Me too.”

“So,” Erin said, “now that we have that settled, what else can I tell you about camp?”

Christy thought about it. “What’re the people like?”

“Just people, I suppose.”

“No… I mean…” She winced and looked skyward. “I’m going to sound so shallow, but… what do they look like?”

“It’s okay,” Erin said with a laugh. “I get it.”

“I mean, do they look like you and Paul, or—?”

“Oh, God no! Paul’s one of the hot guys.”

Christy beamed up at me.

“Most of the men are family types. Some of ’em are sexy in a ‘hot dad’

sort of way—”

Christy scrunched her nose automatically.

“—but most are just average. I mean, not ugly, but not Adonis-types like Paul and a few others.”

“He is sort of an Adonis, isn’t he?” Christy said.

“He didn’t used to be.”

“Oh?”

“Uh-uh. He used to be soft and pudgy.”

“Thanks, Erin,” I said dryly.

“At least until Su— he discovered girls.”

“It was baby fat,” I explained to Christy, mostly to cover Erin’s slip.

“Then I joined the wrestling team and started working out.”

“And oh, boy, did he change! He went from pudgy to hunky in, like, a year. I kinda agree with Mom, though—he could stand to gain a few pounds

—but he’s nothing like he used to be.”

“Thanks for the trip down memory lane,” I said with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

Christy took pity on me and changed the subject. “What’re the women like? At the camp, I mean.”

“About the same as the men. Some are really hot, like Susan or Elizabeth or our mom, but most are just average. They sag and have stretch marks and stuff like that, but—”

“They’re all beautiful,” I said firmly, “in one way or another.”

Erin’s eyebrows rose.

“There’s beauty in everything,” I told her. “And every one. Even a middle-aged mom who doesn’t have time to do her hair and makeup and is probably struggling to lose a couple of pounds.”

“If you say so,” she said.

“I say so.”

Christy looked at me thoughtfully. “Maybe you’re yang after all.”

“Maybe I’m a little of both,” I said with a sideways look. “Just like you aren’t sunshine and light all the time.”

“No,” she agreed softly.

“Wow,” Erin said after a moment, “I have no idea what that was about, but you two are way more into each other than I thought.”

“We’ve only been together since Thanksgiving,” I said. “Officially, at least. But we’ve been dancing around it for a while.” I glanced at Christy. “I think since we first met.”

“Except when you were a jerk,” she said with an affectionate smile.

“And when you were a you-know-what.”

“He calls me a Catholic schoolgirl when he’s being mean,” she explained to Erin.

“Oh, right.”

“What he doesn’t realize,” Christy continued, “is that I still have my school uniforms… and they still fit.”

Erin’s eyebrows shot up.

“So he might like me being a Catholic schoolgirl, if you know what I

mean.”

Erin laughed.

So there! Christy said to me with a self-satisfied smile.

I nodded and couldn’t help but admire her. Touché.

Thank you.

Back at the clubhouse my dad recruited me to help finish Gunny’s project.

He’d been rewiring the 240-volt circuit for the stoves, which explained why my mom had been frying eggs in the electric skillet.

“I think I’ll go grocery shopping with your mom and the others,” Christy said. She rose on tiptoes for a kiss.

“Sure,” I said. “Have fun. Make sure they buy something you’ll eat.”

“I will, Mr. Thoughtful.” She left with a wave.

I went to join my dad behind the clubhouse at the main electrical panel. I took one look at it and almost stopped in my tracks. It was a rat’s nest of wires that connected a mixture of fuses and breakers. Two of the circuits were connected with wire nuts, without a cutout at all. That was a serious code violation and an actual fire hazard. Gunny had been a top-notch Marine, but he wasn’t an electrician.

“I hate to speak ill of the dead…,” I said vaguely.

“My thoughts exactly,” Dad agreed.