Summer Of Joanna

“Uh…no, but to tell you the truth, it’s a chance to get out of the city for a couple of days.” Kate mentally chastised herself for feeling the need to make excuses. Wasn’t the property legally hers now?

He must have picked up a cue from her voice for he quickly went on to say, “Of course, and please don’t let me discourage you. Just want to remind you that things may be a bit rough up there—the camp hasn’t been used for a number of years.”

The urge to speed into the mountains was starting to wane. “Well, if things are too bad I can always head back to the city,” Kate replied. “How do I go about getting a key for the place? Or is there even such a thing?”

“Oh, yes. Apparently the place has been looked after by a couple who live in the nearest village. Now, what was the name…” There was a sound of drawers opening and papers shuffling. Then, still talking to himself, the lawyer mumbled, “Ah, here it is. Tippett. Bill and Verna. They live in Bondi, which is about ten miles from the camp. How about if I give him a call and let him know you’re coming? He’ll need to see about electricity and so on.”

“That would be great. Now, I guess I’ll have to get directions.”

“Do you have a fax machine?”

Kate smiled. “No, I’m afraid not.”

“No problem. I’ll have my secretary courier a map to you ASAP. When shall I tell Bill Tippett you’re going?”

It appeared she had to nail down the date. “I’m thinking the day after tomorrow.”

More paper noises. “Uh, that would be the twenty-fourth?”

The twenty-fourth of July. Ten days after she was supposed to meet Joanna. Kate couldn’t speak for a moment. If things had turned out differently, perhaps she and Joanna would have been making the trip to Limberlost together. And Carla might have had a chance to meet her and…. She closed her eyes.

“Miss Reilly?”

She took a deep breath and said, “Yes, the twenty-fourth.”

“Righto. If there’s a problem with Tippett getting the place ready, I’ll get back to you.”

“Please tell him I don’t expect miracles. I’m quite prepared to rough it.”

“I’m sure there won’t be any miracles, Miss Reilly.” He laughed. “When you get back to New York, let me know if I can help you with the property in any way. Whatever you decide.”

“Yes, I’ll do that. Thanks, Mr. Collier.”

His voice boomed across the line. “Only too happy to help out.”

As Kate put the phone down, she couldn’t help but think of a hungry shark streaking through a school of fish. She’d heard too many lawyer jokes, she told herself. Still, was it her imagination or had the man really been trying to put her off visiting Limberlost? Kate shrugged. What did it matter, as long as she and Carla had a chance to get out of the city? Now all she had to do was get permission for the girl to come with her.

Easier said than done. It seemed to Kate that she’d been dealing with bureaucracy all her life—filling out forms to go to camp, to go on school trips outside the city, to get braces on her teeth. Growing up a ward of the courts had meant a lifetime of dealing with committees and agencies rather than individuals. The years after Joanna had been relatively stable, but only because Kate had decided that cooperating with her foster parents was more likely to lead to the goals she’d set for herself.

So she knew exactly how to phrase her request to Kim, Carla’s caseworker. The woman was fair and would realize the break from routine would benefit Carla. Still, Kim said she wouldn’t be able to get back with an official okay until late afternoon the next day. Kate decided to book a rental car for the twenty-fourth on the assumption that Carla’s permission would be given.

Everything was proceeding well until Rita called early the next morning while Kate was finishing her first cup of coffee in bed.

“Carla’s taken off,” she said.

Kate sagged against the headboard. “What?”

Rita gave a loud sigh. “It’s not as bad as it sounds, but she left in a huff right after breakfast. When I reminded her she’d have to do laundry for your trip north, she said she probably wouldn’t be allowed to go and what was the point. Then just as she walked out the door, she hollered back that maybe she didn’t want to go, anyway.”

“She’s just setting things up so she won’t be disappointed if it doesn’t work out. But it’s going to. Kim seemed very supportive. You haven’t spoken to her about it, have you?”

“Kim? No, I thought I should talk to you first.”

“Do me a favor, then, Rita? Wait until I get back to you. I’m going to have a talk with Carla. Where does she usually hang out with her friends?”

“They could be a couple of places. Either at the basketball hoops at the school playground or at the parkette at Vine and Broadview. It’s about two subway stops south of our place.”

“Right. Is that near where her friend Toni lives?”

“You know about Toni, eh? She’s bad news, that one.”

As soon as Kate hung up, she dashed into the shower and dressed in cutoffs, T-shirt and sneakers. Rather than take a fanny pack or wallet, she shoved her subway pass and a twenty-dollar bill deep into her shorts pocket. Then she searched in the bottom of her closet for her baseball cap and pulled it down over her hair, tucking the side tendrils back behind her ears and under the cap. She looked about seventeen, which was fine with her. As long as she eliminated her schoolteacher persona. She had a feeling that wouldn’t carry much weight with Toni and her gang.

Soon after, Kate arrived at the Brooklyn neighborhood where Carla and her friends hung out. They weren’t at the basketball court. Okay, she thought. On to the parkette. She didn’t want to think about what she’d do if Carla wasn’t there.

But she was. Coming up from the subway exit, Kate spotted a group of kids across the street. She paused at the top of the stairs, watching them. The parkette was merely a slightly bigger-than-room-size piece of sunburned grass a few yards from the intersection. A scattering of benches were chained to concrete posts, and there was a rusting combo of swings and teeter-totters around which a handful of mothers, shoulders drooping from the pull of plastic shopping bags, chatted as they watched their children shuffle from one swing or slide to another. It was only after ten, but already the heat was sucking energy from everyone, injecting them with a listless apathy. Except for the knot of teenagers who’d taken over the best benches—the ones in the shade at the edge of the sidewalk.

The large-framed girl standing, arms on hips, in the middle of the sidewalk was the focal point. The others around her were laughing at her impersonation of a suited executive type who’d just strode past them, cell phone clenched to his ear as he gesticulated with his free hand. The girl was good, Kate had to admit, watching her mincing mimicry of the man’s walk as he signaled his reactions to the phone conversation to the world at large. Then another passerby appeared.

Just a kid, but seriously obese. Laden with two bulky shopping bags, he waddled out of the corner fruit-and-vegetable store and headed their way. He was wearing shorts that ballooned out from his thick legs and a crumpled, wide-brimmed sun hat that might have sheltered an elderly woman’s head thirty years ago. Kate licked her dry lips, waiting for the gang to notice him.

Suddenly there was a flurry of elbow-poking as the girl was alerted to her new target by the kids around her. Kate looked at Carla, sitting at the farthest end of the bench with her knees tucked up against her chest. She, too, was looking at the boy, slowly making his way toward them. But she wasn’t laughing, Kate noticed with relief. Instead, she dropped her chin to her chest, as if hiding from what she knew was coming.

Oh, Carla. There’s hope for you yet.

Time to make my move, Kate thought. She sprinted to the corner, making it to the other side of the street just as the light changed. The girl had planted herself in the center of the walk, planning to block the boy’s way. She turned her head back to the others behind her, saying something that produced laughter from the bench-sitters. All but Carla, who now had her face completely buried in her upraised knees.

Kate marched toward them, easily overtaking the boy, who’d slowed his pace when he’d caught sight of the gang. Initially Kate had hoped to get Carla aside and talk to her in private. But now she realized she couldn’t avoid a confrontation with the performance artist herself. Was this the notorious Toni?

So she stopped dead center and mere inches from the girl, enjoying the surprise and then outrage that flitted across the teenager’s face.

“Where’s Carla?” Kate asked, her voice strong and confident.

The girl’s eyes narrowed, shifting from the approaching target to Kate. “Carla who?”

“Carla Lopez.” The second word was spoken like a taunt that conveyed the tag stupid.

Carla raised her head, and her eyes widened in disbelief. The boy was forgotten by the gang as all eyes shifted her way. Kate stepped forward, shortening the distance between her and the girl. When the girl stepped back, Kate knew she had the upper hand.

“So who are you?” the girl asked, her tone challenging.

Kate noticed Carla lower her feet to the pavement, start to get up off the bench.

“I’m her big sister, and I suppose you must be Toni.”

“Her sister?” Toni echoed with a glance back at Carla. The others looked back to Carla, as well. Sister? This was news to them.

“You don’t look like no Lopez,” jeered an acne-faced girl beside Toni.

Kate simply shrugged. She brushed past Toni to Carla. “Coming, Carly?”

Carla’s eyes flicked from her to Toni, held there a moment long enough to raise Kate’s blood pressure, then back to Kate. “Okay,” she whispered.

Kate draped her arms across Carla’s shoulders and the two stepped forward. But Toni wasn’t ready to let them go so easily.

She moved directly into their path. “She really your sister, Carla?”

“Well…yeah,” Carla mumbled.

“How come you never talked about her?”

“I don’t tell you everything!” Carla hotly declared.

Kate silently applauded the girl.

Toni raised her eyebrows. “So, you leavin’ for lunch or somethin’,” she sneered, “or you leavin’ the group for good?” The others stood round their leader, arms folded across their chests and nodding agreement.

Kate swallowed. Carla wasn’t ready to make that kind of a choice yet, and certainly not so publicly. She said, “What’s the big deal? I’ve come to get my little sister because I need her for something. Besides, it’s my job to look out for her, isn’t it?” She scanned the faces of each and every one. Then focused her attention on Toni.

“You got a big sister or brother?” she asked.

Toni flushed. Someone behind her burst out, “Yeah. In Sing Sing,” then sputtered in a hard laugh that died as soon as Toni swiveled her head round to glare.

“Whatever,” Kate said casually. “A brother?”

Toni gave a jerky half nod.

“So if he were here, he’d be looking out for you, too. Right?”

A more affirmative nod this time.

“’Course he would,” Kate continued. “That’s what big sisters and brothers are for.” She searched their faces again, waiting for disagreement. When none came, she said, “Then I guess you guys won’t mind if I take my little sister away for a bit—family business, you might say.” Kate reached down for Carla’s hand and started to walk.

Toni hesitated a second before standing aside. As they moved past her, she gave Carla a seemingly playful poke on the shoulder. “See you around, Carla.”

Kate kept walking, pulling Carla along. She felt the girl look back, but didn’t slow her pace. When she heard Carla say, “Maybe,” she knew everything was going to be okay.

It wasn’t until they got to the subway entrance that Kate relaxed enough to stop. Instead of lecturing the girl, she gave her a big, breathless smile. “We made it,” she said, giggling.

Carla, clamping her hand to her mouth, dissolved into laughter. “I couldn’t figure out who you were at first,” she said. “You look so different in that hat, with your hair all hidden. When you said you were my big sister, I almost fell off the bench.”

“Yeah. Well, I meant every word, Carla.”

The girl straightened up, meeting Kate’s gaze with an instant sobriety. “I know you did, Kate. That’s how I got the nerve…you know, to just…”

“Walk away?”

The girl nodded. “Thanks for coming,” she mumbled. “I…I…”

“You didn’t look like you were having a good time,” Kate said.

Carla shook her head. “Toni can be real mean sometimes.”

Kate made no comment, letting that realization sink in. Then she said, “Let’s go,” and the two ran down the steps into the subway.

NEITHER SPOKE UNTIL they reached Carla’s station. As they exited onto the sidewalk, Kate said, “By the way, I’ve rented a car and Kim’s going to call me later today. She sounded very positive about your coming with me to Camp Limberlost.”

Carla stopped and looked up at Kate, an anxious frown creasing her brow. “But, well, do you think Kim’ll still feel that way after today? I mean, when she hears that I walked out on Rita again.”

“Rita didn’t call Kim.”

“She didn’t?”

“No. I asked her to wait until I had a chance to see you.”

There was a thoughtful silence from Carla, followed by a husky thank-you. When they reached the triplex where Carla lived, Kate said, “I’ll call you as soon as I hear from Kim. In the meantime, you might want to do some packing. You’ll need a bathing suit, towel and change of clothes. I figure we’ll stay two nights. That should satisfy the needs of two city girls.”

“Rita said she’d buy me a sleeping bag.”

“Good idea! I’ll have to pick one up for myself. Okay, that’s it, then.” She smiled down at the girl. “We’re going to have a great time. Talk to you later.” As she turned to leave, Carla reached out a hand to her arm.

“Kate, I won’t mess up again. I promise. And I really did want to get away from those kids. I was just too chicken.”

Kate shook her head. “You came, didn’t you? That said everything.” She waved goodbye and headed back to the subway to get a train to Manhattan. Partway, she realized she was dying for a cold drink and recalled a terrific coffee shop on the edge of Little Italy, just a few stops from her flat. An ice-cold latte was definitely in order, after her encounter with Toni and friends.

Exiting the shop, chilled drink in hand, she strolled along to the next subway station, thinking she might find a store on the way that sold sleeping bags. Good for Carla for thinking of it. She herself had blithely assumed there’d be clean, pressed sheets on the beds. If the camp had deteriorated as much as Greg Collier had implied, she’d be lucky to have cobwebs and spiders swept away. Kate shivered. God, I hope so.

Luck was with her and she came upon an outfitter store just a block from the subway. By the time she’d made her purchase, she realized it was almost three. She wanted to make sure she had an answer from Kim before the woman left work for the day. Clutching the bag under her arm, she jogged the remaining distance. Later that day, she realized that if she’d been looking where she was going and hadn’t bumped into the woman pushing the stroller out of a grocery store, she might have run right past Lance Marchant.

Swearing under her breath as she stooped to pick up the sleeping bag after her collision with the stroller, Kate paused to rub her scraped shin. When she straightened, she noticed a bright red convertible pull out from the curb. There couldn’t be too many cars like that, she thought, even in New York. She walked briskly toward it, reaching the edge of the curb just as the car arrowed out of the space.

When the driver turned to check oncoming traffic, she saw a shock of white hair and realized that he was definitely Lance Marchant. She almost waved, except that he was looking to his left and not in his rearview mirror. Kate glanced back to the store in front of the parking space. It was one of those all-male sports bars. A dingy-looking one at that. Not some place a man like Lance Marchant would hang out.

She’d just stepped off the curb onto the empty parking space to jaywalk to the other side of the street when a sleek black limousine shot toward her. Kate jumped back onto the sidewalk. There was a flurry of Italian spoken behind her, and as she turned to look, a trio of dark-suited men in sunglasses hustled another man out of the bar and into the rear door of the limousine.

The door slammed and the car, having barely come to a halt, snaked out onto the path of traffic exactly as Marchant had. Must be some kind of celebrity, Kate guessed. Maybe the bar was one of those exclusive places that only the very wealthy knew about. She smiled at the idea, stepped off the curb again and, for the second time in two minutes, was almost run over. This time a battered white van roared into the lane of cars just as Kate was about to take advantage of a break in the traffic.

She swore aloud and would have run alongside the van as it chugged forward into the traffic. But she stopped in her tracks, recognizing one of the two men sitting in front on the passenger side, his finger pointing ahead as he talked to the driver. It was the police officer who’d spoken to her after Joanna’s funeral.

Kate watched the van merge into the mass of cars until it disappeared. What was his name? Anderson? Anders? Andrews? Yes, that was it. Somebody Andrews. She was certain it was him. What was he doing here? And Marchant, too. Seeing two men from Joanna’s funeral in the same neighborhood and virtually at the same time was a little too coincidental.

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