Page 24 of Lady and the Camp
“Wake the dead, more like,” I grumbled to an audience of a potted fern. That was new too. And taking up a lot of space next to my office door.
Instead of Twila emerging from the kitchen, out came Hudson. She had on an oversized camp shirt and actual, functional shorts. Somehow, she still managed to look like a supermodel. Did supermodels still exist? Maybe she did supermodeling on the side from YouTubing.
“Morning, boss.” She offered me a paper cup with a plastic lid. “Here.”
I hesitated. “What’s this? Other than the obvious.”
“Twila brought it in from town.” Hudson smiled. “For you. And she brought me a juice.” She sipped from a glass bottle with square sides. The stuff was dark green and thick. Looked toxic.
Nodding to the green stuff, I asked, “How much did you pay for bottled swamp?”
Twila appeared. “It’s very healthy.” She zipped across the office with more energy than usual. And that was saying something. “Over here, Hudson. I want to show you our socials.”
A second chair waited by Twila’s desk.
“Hey, what’s this? We need Hudson with the campers.” These women would be the end of me. It was only eight-oh-five in the morning.
“No worries, Lucas,” Hudson said. “Do you prefer Lucas? Or Mr. Russo?”
A grumble sounded in my throat. “Lucas is fine.”
“Great, so the good news is we worked out a plan and a schedule.” She showed me a spiral notebook. “I recreated one of my digital calendars last night and marked all available hours and where we need coverage. Maggie and I have our shifts noted. The free time during the day, I’ll be in the office.”
“Let me see.” I should approve the schedule. Look it over and all that.
“Hudson is going to audit our social media,” Twila announced.
I looked up from the schedule’s scorching pink ink. “Uh—”
“Remember, she’s aliteralexpert.” Twila grinned. “We’ll get our website fancied up and business will really boom.”
I clenched the cup, realizing I had no idea if coffee or that green stuff lived inside. “Low key summer, remember? We don’t have the resources to support more campers right now.”
“More campers means more money means more staff!”
Twila was so dang proud.
Hudson looked between us, a calculating sense in her eyes. “We don’t have to take any action yet. An audit is simply an examination of what exists so I can make a recommendation.”
“I have actual paperwork that needs managing,” I told them. “No need to audit anything. I’ll tell you exactly what needs working on.”
Twila and Hudson fell quiet. No, strike that. They were communicating silently. To each other. Throughlooks.
I wasn’t cut out for this.
The camp was overrun by women. I meant this in the least sexist way possible, but I needed another guy out here. Just to…debrief. Maybe translate. Yeah, I definitely needed a translator. Hudson and Twila were now silently giggling and signaling things with their eyes.
I felt like a tool. No, a tool had a purpose. I was like that little metal IKEA Allen key that’s useful to put your furniture together, but a needless contraption once you were done.
I set the cup down. “I’m headed to town.”
“But you just got here,” Twila said.
“Need that coffee maker.” I opened and closed the door to sweet, sweet silence.
I returned to camp with a new-to-me coffeemaker from the thrift shop. The thing had stains in all the right places with a helpful note taped on top stating the appliance still worked. Perfect.
After parking, my phone lit with a text.
