Page 87 of Lovebug
An awkward moment passes as we stare at each other in silence.
“Mrs.—I mean, Naomi… was there something you needed from me? Because I should really focus on my station here. I’m starting a honey harvesting demonstration in just a few minutes.”
“Oh, you’re so sweet with your honey hobby.”
“Well, I’m hoping someday I can make it more than a hobby. You know that.”
You know how I know she knows that? Because when I worked my tail off at the museum this past spring and put enough money together to get a starter beekeeping kit: the hive, the protective gear, the smoker, the hive tool… the works! And on the day I was placing my hive in my parents’ backyard, feeling giddy with the fact that my was goal so close I could taste it… she promptly informed me it was “against neighborhood regulations” to keep bees. Hive disassembled, dreams dashed. All of my neighbors were fine with it—excited even. I asked every single one of them personally. They started placing orders for jars of The Bee’s Elbow honey before I even finished telling them my plans, but the plans never got off the ground because of her. She saw to it that I couldn’t move forward. It’s okay, though. I’ll find a way. Everything is figure out-able, right?
“That’s adorable. Good luck with that, sweetie. Listen. I’m going to need you to reinstate April to her position as CIT. Okay? Thanks.”
She rushes through her… can you call it a request? It was more of a demand, really. Then she turns and starts to walk away as though she doesn’t have a single doubt that I will do exactly as she asked.
What would it be like to be that confident?
Surely “Bad Mabel” would be confident. I call after her.
“I wish I could, Mrs. Thornton, but with all due respect, I don’t think she’ll learn her lesson if I do that.”
She turns around, walks toward me with purpose, and speaks in a harsh whisper.
“With all due respect, Mabel, as her parent, shouldn’tIbe the one doling out the lessons?”
“Well, yes, youshould…”I stretch out the last word a bit too much and experience instant regret.
Mrs. Thornton gasps. “Was that judgment in your tone?”
“No!” I yelp. “No, of course not. I’m agreeing with you that yes, it is your job to dole out lessons. But as head counselor, it’s my job to make sure our campers are in excellent hands, and it seems that April could use a bit more guidance and growth before she’s able to handle the responsibility of being a CIT.”
“Right. She’s a CIT. That stands for counselor-in-training, correct?”
“Correct.”
“So counsel her. Train her.”
“You have a valid point, and I’ve tried. I just—”
“Mabel, you do realize I am the president of the board, yes?”
“Yes. April has reminded me,” I murmur. “Many times.”
“Then you know I hold a great deal of power when it comes to making decisions at the arboretum. Particularly when it comes to hiring and firing.”
Is she threatening me?
“Um. Yes, Mrs. Thornton, I do know that. But—”
“Wonderful. Then we understand each other.”
We’re silent for a moment. It’s as if she’s daring me to say something. What, though, I don’t know.
“Dowe understand each other?” She starts nodding as though she’s trying to hypnotize me.
I nod in response.
She nods more.
I nod even faster.
