He heard the sigh and waited a moment longer for the answer. “I’m willing to help out a bit.”
“Okay. How long?”
“Um...one weekend?”
“Not worth your trouble, Ms. Sothern, nor mine, considering the police check I’ll have to initiate for you and some orientation. How about three?”
Another silence. “Two?”
Matt couldn’t believe it. They were negotiating how long she’d volunteer at the camp? Clearly, she had no concept of what the term volunteer actually meant. “Fine. Meet me at KidsFirst Wednesday afternoon and we’ll go over details.”
“I can’t do Wednesday. How about Thursday?”
He gritted his teeth. “Great. Come in the morning. Eight o’clock.”
She sounded taken aback, saying, “Eight?”
“Yes, eight, because I have to get out to the camp early and you can drive with me. There’s a camp staff meeting Friday morning that I hope you can attend because it’s mainly the only orientation I have time to give you. This first weekend is a short one, with the kids coming Saturday morning instead of Friday.”
“Okay. Shall I—”
“See you at eight,” he interrupted and disconnected before she could try to bargain further. Now he wished he hadn’t issued his challenge. Or been so prideful about cashing the check. He had a feeling Dana Sothern was going to be a whole lot more trouble than help to him and to Camp Hope.
* * *
THE DOOR WAS LOCKED, and Dana swore under her breath as the taxi rolled away. She glanced nervously up and down the street in front of KidsFirst, relieved to see a couple of people walking toward the bus stop at the end of the block. So much for my plan to get on the good side of Matt Rodriguez—if he even has one—by arriving early.
She thought about calling him but decided against taking her cell phone out of her pocket—not in this neighborhood—and began to pace, sipping on the latte she’d picked up on the way. Dana knew she needed to calm down, but Monday night’s phone call still bugged her. The way he’d hung up on her simply because she’d been taken aback by the eight o’clock meeting. The time was irrelevant. She was always at the office by eight, had been for years. Then there was the pointless bickering about how long she’d be volunteering. You’d think from his manner that he was doing her a favor. She’d had to work overtime the last two nights to finish the paperwork on the health-food-chain merger.
She checked her watch again and decided she’d give him five more minutes. If he didn’t show, at least she’d have the rare opportunity to indulge in a day off. Go shopping, have lunch at that new place near her condo in Lincoln Park. She could even call Jason, see if he was free. No. Not a good idea. That’s over. Her latte was almost finished and she’d allotted him an extra five minutes when a beat-up station wagon rumbled to a stop in front of her.
Dana bent to see if the driver was Matt just as the passenger-side window rolled down.
“Hop in,” he said, leaning over to pick up an empty coffee tray from the passenger-side floor. He tossed it into the back and watched as she climbed in, tucking her daypack between her legs.
“You can put that behind you if you want.”
She took another peek behind her. “No, it’s okay.”
“Uh, do you have other shoes with you?”
Dana peered down at her ankle-high leather boots with their short, sturdy heels, the perfect accessory to her black skinny jeans. She decided not to be offended by his assumption that she couldn’t figure out what to wear to a camp. “I’ve got sneakers in my pack,” she said, depositing her coffee cup in the holder and fastening her seat belt.
“Great, because the grounds might be muddy from the rain we’ve had.”
Dana looked at him. “I can do mud.”
He seemed about to say more but then nodded as he shifted the car into gear and drove away from the center. He was quiet while he navigated rush-hour traffic, which suited Dana. Other than getting information from him about the tasks he expected her to do, what else could they talk about? Yet as soon as the thought popped up, she realized they had one very obvious topic of conversation. That day. For some reason, he never brought it up.
As they left the city behind, Dana asked, “Where is this camp again?”
“Outside a town called Willow Springs. On Maple Lake. Not far. Maybe half an hour if traffic is good.”
Dana had never heard of either place but then, except for business, she seldom ventured outside Chicago. “Tell me how you got involved with it. The news article I read was mainly about the drop-in center.”
There was a softening in his eyes as he glanced quickly her way. “The idea for the camp came up about four years ago. We were having a meeting at KidsFirst and one of our counselors mentioned she’d been talking to a kid about a nature hike she’d recently made. This boy asked if she’d been scared going through the woods. His only concept of woods or forests—nature itself—was from horror movies and TV shows. Not only had he never seen a forest, he’d never even visited the big parks right here in Chicago. We liked the idea of taking the kids into the country on day trips and had been talking about it for some time. So we brainstormed and searched for possible locations. One of the team learned about an old campsite near Maple Lake. We found out the property was for lease, went to look at it and then began fund-raising.”
“And this happened four years ago?”
“Yeah. It took us a year to raise the money, then two more to negotiate the deal, get permits, get the buildings up to par and so on. Of course, we relied on grants and donations for all that. We finally opened last year but only used it as a day camp, starting at three days a week and working up to five. By the end of the summer, the kids were begging for sleepovers.”
His smile, along with the warmth in his voice, said it all. Dana couldn’t recall the last time she’d felt a similar enthusiasm. Maybe when Jason had surprised her with the trip to Paris—the one she’d canceled at the last minute because of a problem at work.
“Who owns the property?”
“The town of Willow Springs. An eccentric couple ran the place for years and when they died, their estate put the camp up for sale. The buildings themselves weren’t worth much but the land is adjacent to the Maple Lake Forest Preserve, owned by Cook County. The town bought the camp, intending to turn it back into parkland, but that plan got stalled. They decided to lease it to us in the meantime.”
“This isn’t a permanent situation, then.”
He turned briefly to look at her and sighed, “No, and that’s the problem. Our lease runs out at the end of June and we’re in the middle of putting together a presentation for an extension of five years.”
“Couldn’t you fund-raise to buy the property outright?”
“Ha! If only life were that simple.”
The exasperation in his voice prompted Dana to reconsider what she’d been about to say—that it seemed like a simple solution to her. Everything in life boiled down to money as far as she knew. Having it or wanting it. After a moment she said, “Sometimes life can be simple. Getting what you want is all in the approach.”
His answer was a loud exhale. As if she didn’t have a clue. But Dana knew otherwise. She’d learned the hard way how to camouflage emotion to get what she needed. She’d honed that skill over twenty years, starting from the day Matt Rodriguez put