IT'S A DIRTY JOB

After dinner, the girls and I walked to the cabin that was going to be home for the night. Katie and I couldn’t hold Beanie back from racing most of the way. When we caught up with her, Beanie was peeking in the window that looked out onto the front porch.

“Mommy! Mommy! I love our new house! When can I bring my stuff here?”

“Oh, Beanie, I’m sorry. We’re just having a little vacation here. We have to go home tomorrow.”

It took a lot to let the air out of Bean’s balloon, but two disappointments in one night did it this time. She sighed and slumped onto the front porch steps with her head in her hands. “First I find out Jeff has a girlfriend and now this!”

Katie, the nurturer, sat down beside her and tossed a warm arm around her little shoulders. “Beanie, hey, remember what I told you about his girlfriend?”

“Yeah, I know. But what if she doesn’t eat it? What if she just picks her nose like everybody else?” Beanie asked seriously.

“But, what if she does eat boogers? Jeff is going to be so grossed out.”

“I thought this was gonna be our new house. I want it to be our new house. I miss Daddy,” Beanie whimpered.

Oh, boy. I didn’t want to leave that explanation up to Katie, so I sat down near the girls and said, “Beans, Sweetie, we all miss Daddy. We will have a new house soon. Just be patient with me. I’m trying as hard as I can.”

Then Katie took up my defense, “You know how hard Mommy works here? She works all day while we play, Beanie. She is the strongest, most bravest person we know. When Daddy left and sold our house, Mommy didn’t sit around crying. She walked all the way here and got a job to take care of us. Let’s be like Mommy; brave and strong, Beans.”

The past two months tumbled down onto my heart like a sad picture show, and I made Katie a liar by sitting there sobbing.

“Did I say something bad?” Katie asked, devastated by my reaction.

“No. No, Katie. It’s just that I didn’t think you noticed everything I was doing.”

“Mommy, it’s hard not to see you lugging cleaning stuff around all over the camp while we’re playing. I know you work harder than anyone I know. I know you miss Daddy too and I’m sorry he left us. He was, like, your bestie and he’s not around. That must really feel bad.”

“Sometimes I get lonesome. Maybe I’ll meet someone better. I keep hoping,” I said.

By then, both girls had crawled up on my sweaty knees, hugging me and trying to make me feel better. “Come on, let’s inspect our vacation cabin and go to the pavilion for the movie!”

Beanie immediately claimed the lower bunk and began jumping up and down on it until she banged her head on the upper. Katie rubbed Bean’s bruised head and told her she could jump on my bed in the other room. Which, she did with relish until I had to call it quits before she collapsed its spindly wooden legs.

After we all freshened up in our very own private bathroom, Katie led the way to the pavilion. Dusk was falling and a few fireflies were sending out mating calls with their winking lights. Damn it, I had forgotten to bring a flashlight. We’d be walking home by firefly light.

The little stream next to the path was flowing swiftly and dragonflies and butterflies were being replaced by moths and mosquitos. Even so, the rapidly swishing water rushing over the flat rocks made a soothing sound that would have lulled me to sleep if we hadn’t been walking.

The pavilion was crowded with camping families looking to entertain their little ones before pulling the blinds on another fun day at Camp Honey Pot. Katie and Beanie made a beeline for friends they had met on Monday of that week. This family would be here for most of July, which was nice, as Beanie had a rough time saying goodbye to the short-term campers.

I followed the girls and introduced myself to the Mom and Dad. We chatted a bit before the kids settled in with their popcorn and soda pop. Feeling like the girls were in good company, I grabbed a soda and a basket of popcorn and sat with the staff to watch Inside Out.

No sooner had I found an empty picnic table, when Mike, the cook, asked if he could sit at my table.

“Well, it will cost you one of your delicious bacon burgers. But, yes, I’ll share,” I joked, pleased to have an opportunity to speak to him for more than thirty seconds.

“Ha, well, you know why they’re so good?” he asked.

“Um…you grow the beef yourself and bake the rolls?”

“No. I save all the bacon grease from breakfast and use it to grease up the grill for everything I cook later. Nothing better than bacon grease for cooking.”

“Wow. What a good idea. If I ever have time to cook again I’ll have to remember that.” Hint. Hint. Opening for more conversation, Mike, I thought.

Nope. Nothing more. We sat in silence, watching the kids’ movie in the darkened picnic pavilion, until he jumped up and said, “This was nice. We should do it more often. Gotta do my run. You’re uh, Karen, right?”

“Karol. But, yes, this was nice. See you tomorrow.”

And, off he ran, literally, to get away from me. Sheesh. I can take a hint, pal.