Unexpected Wedding (3 page)

Gia held back her own hint of queasiness. “Calm down. They’re only kids.”

“That straw had been chewed on and spit out in little pieces, Gia. There was slobber on that plate.”

“No one told you to look that close. Clear the table. You don’t have to analyze it.” Gia hoisted one bag out of the can and tied it off at record speed. “If this makes you crazy you’re going to have an epic freak-out when we have to go check and spray the showers.”

“We’re gonna do what now?”

“C’mon, newbie, shake it off. I know you were at orientation. None of this should come as any surprise.”

Rebekah slapped her cheeks a few times and punched the air with tiny but powerful jabs until her game face returned. “All right. I can do this.”

“Sure you can. Grab those bags and let’s head for the dumpster.”

“Yeah...let me get those gloves.”

Gia pushed open the door and waited. She hung between the food-scented air of the cooled cafeteria and the stagnant, humid air of the hottest summer on record. The combination hovered at her nostrils until she had to take a breath—and that breath nearly sent her to the nearest tree to vomit. She buried her nose in her sleeve and willed the nausea to pass.

Rebekah dragged her trash through the open door. The mushy sound of everyone’s discarded food and the sight of chocolate milk and apple juice running down the sides of heavy-duty black trash bags once again nearly sent Gia to the nearest clump of bushes.

“That’s it,” Rebekah said and dropped her garbage. “I’m taking you to the nurse.”

“I’m fine. Whatever that weird summer virus was, it’s over. I’ve been well for days. It’s a tiny relapse.”

“I don’t know, Gia. It might be time for professional help. Whatever that mutant bacteria is, you’ve not been completely well since last week. If it’s some strange intestinal thing, that can be dangerous. You’re too healthy and hydrated to be looking so green, pale, and tired all the time.”

Gia snatched her own bags and hit the dusty trail to the side of the kitchen. “Let it go, rookie.”

Rebekah followed close behind, her cargo bouncing on the rocks and exposed roots across the path.

Gia smirked. “If those burst open, you’re going to be the one cleaning it up.”

Everything got quieter.

It didn’t last.

“Are you sure you haven’t been to any foreign country or eaten anything out of the ordinary over the last few weeks? Because there are a lot of parasites that could be causing your sympt—”

“Seriously?” Gia stopped short and spun around. “Do you really think I’m not sure if I’ve been out of the country or eaten anything really bizarre? And do you really think I wouldn’t have admitted it the first three dozen times you asked me?”

“Sorry, but I’m worried about you. You tossed and turned again all night. I know you’re exhausted, but you don’t seem to sleep much.”

If Rebekah only knew. Of course she didn’t sleep much. She didn’t remember the last time she didn’t either have a bad dream or lie awake worried she would. While they seemed to get better as each day took her further away from that last night with her ex, he still managed to slink in and terrify her when she least expected it.

Gia started forward again with a huff. “Stop worrying. Let’s talk about something else.”

“How ‘bout grad school? Did you decide what to do?”

“Who knows? My parents won’t pay any more tuition despite my being accepted into two of the best programs in Texas. I told them I would apply for grants and find a job, but I don’t think they’ll budge.”

“If it’s money, can’t you go to the school closest to them in Dallas and live at home?”

Gia stopped at the dumpster and let out a heavy, exaggerated sigh. “Oh, silly, silly, rookie. Home is the absolute last place my parents want me to be. And believe me. I don’t want to be there either.”

The dumpster lid creaked as Gia pushed it up and let it drop open with a loud metal thud. Rebekah stood quietly, her forehead creased with worry and her hair shining like a new penny under the filtered sunlight. So young and innocent, Rebekah’s trips home probably involved mother-daughter-mani-pedis and leisurely lunches with sweet tea and chicken salad where they talked about boys. Her father most likely called her Princess or Kitten or some such nonsense and stayed in his pajamas on Saturday mornings until she got up at noon so he could still have coffee with her.

Gia tossed in her bags and peeled the latex gloves from her hands. “Don’t worry about me, Rebekah. The thing with my parents is weird, and I know that’s hard for you to understand because you don’t have a strained relationship with yours, but it’s my problem and I’ll work it out. God most certainly has a plan. I have to figure out what it is. C’mon, that trash isn’t going to dump itself. And please close the lid. Don’t want to make it easy for the camp scavengers.”

“What camp scaveng—”

The rest of the word was lost in the rookie’s high-pitched, ear-splitting squeal.

Rebekah pointed and hopped. “What is it?”

One of the many camp raccoons scampered from behind the dumpster and blatantly went straight for Rebekah’s trash. He sniffed and tapped at it as if he were picking out melons at the grocery store.

“Seriously, Rebekah? You don’t know what that is?”

“Well, yes, I know it’s a raccoon, but what’s it doing here?”

“This is a camp. In the forest. With small woodland creatures. They’re looking for easy food. What part don’t you understand?”

Rebekah shooed the thief away and heaved her load into the bin. “All right, all right. It caught me off guard.” The dumpster lid came down hard. “I thought they only came out at night.”

Gia paused to retrieve a fallen branch as they started back down the path. “Not these animals. They’re not afraid of people. Especially that one. I believe that was Beelze-Bubba.”

Rebekah skidded to a sudden dusty stop. “Hold on. You named a raccoon at a church camp after the prince of darkness?”

Gia kept walking. “
I
didn’t. They call him that because he can be a little aggressive and we think he’s the leader of the raccoon pack—or whatever groups of raccoons are called. They tacked the ‘Bubba’ on the end ‘cause this is east Texas and deep down he’s a good ol’ boy.”

Rebekah scrambled to catch up. “That’s funny, but, really. Beelze-Bubba? Kinda gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Lighten up, rook.” Gia tossed the branch into the woods. “That coon will soften and see the light before he heads to that great heavenly forest in the sky. He’s practically guaranteed to have a mountaintop experience here at church camp.”

“That is true.” Rebekah swerved to avoid a swarm of gnats. “What’s next?”

“We swing by the custodial shed and get more gloves and cans of mold and mildew spray and disinfectant. Need to make a pass through the showers before we pick up our girls from the craft area.”

“Yuck. I was hoping you’d forgotten. Not to sound like a snob, but doesn’t the professional cleaning staff do that?”

“Yes, but did you read your handbook? This is not
The Real Housewives of Summer Camp
, Rebekah. We all pitch in. Look on the bright side. Next week it’ll be someone else’s turn and you can watch some other rookie have an epic freak-out over a sloppy-joe-vegetable-spit tower and a raccoon.”

Rebekah snorted. “Ha! I’m a redhead with repressed anger. This doesn’t scratch the surface of an epic freak-out for me.”

Gia patted her on the back. “Good to know.”

“Speaking of freaking out on someone, Rocky’s coming tomorrow. Bet he’s looking forward to his follow-up visit. Are you going to tackle him and make sure his boo-boo is healing properly?”

Gia grabbed the combination lock on the shed. The heavy metal was hot in her hands as she spun the dial. “Yes. Yes, Rebekah, that’s exactly what I was going to do.”

When the first try didn’t work, she wiped the sweat from her forehead and tried again. What was it about that cocky guy that intrigued her? And why did Rebekah’s sudden comments fluster her to the point of failure with the simple lock? Yes, she’d thought about him, but it’s not as if she would be waiting at the front gate to see him again. Curious? Yes. Truly interested? Not really. She didn’t have the time for romance, and real, honest romance didn’t ever seem to have the time for her.

“I’m just sayin’,” Rebekah continued, “it’s your chance to see him again.”

Gia yanked off the lock and pulled open the door to the shed. “We’re working, Rebekah. I’m too busy to flirt and socialize. Here’s your spray and your gloves. Try not to slip in the bathroom and fall in a puddle of pee-pee.”

“Eeewwwww, Gia. That is gross.”

“Buck up, rook. We’re working with kids here. A lot of it’s gross. But then there’s devotion and campfire and those squishy bonding moments that make it all worthwhile.”

Rebekah huffed a piece of hair from across her nose. “I know. As the prophet Isaiah says,
the grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God endures forever.
So, believe me, I know. Every bit of promise and truth we put in their young hearts will be there long after they leave camp.”

“That’s awesome. See? I knew you had it in you.”

They made their way to the cinder block structure that served as Mighty Oak 2A’s nearly primitive restroom. While other facilities had been updated to include fluorescent lighting and a climate controlled bathroom experience, progress was slow to arrive at this end of camp. Six toilets, six showers, and a sloped concrete floor in the middle. Western-style wooden swinging doors with loose hook-and-eye closures were all that kept your business from your neighbor’s, and older fixtures with bright, harsh light illuminated things you’d rather not see—like the generations of spiders who’d called the high corners home since nineteen-seventy-two. Round, built-in fans at each end were meant to keep the air circulating. They were no match for the Texas humidity and served only to create a loud swish-and-clank sound that made it impossible to talk at a normal level while inside. Consequently, any scheduled shower time turned into a boisterous, chattering, shower-shoe-flapping, door-slamming, water-spraying, and ear-ringing cacophony that lingered long after everyone had left. Gia could still hear the echo in the bare walls though they were alone.

“Take a look around,” she instructed. “Give the walls in each shower stall a good squirt and make sure there are no problems we need to report. I’ll check the potty side.”

“Got it.”

Gia paused at the row of sinks near the door. Her pale reflection in the age-streaked mirror came as a mild shock. Maybe Rebekah was right and she should see the nurse. Even now, the nagging queasiness made it hard for her to concentrate on more important things. Things like that afternoon’s cabin devotional, tomorrow morning’s staff Bible study, and her uncertain grad school future. Contrary to Rebekah’s babbling, she was not concerned with Rocky Lionakis.

She steeled herself against the stinky, steamy air and prepared to tackle the potties.

Within three seconds, there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop her body’s volcanic revolt.

****

Rocky hit the brakes and skidded to a stop in his best friend Max’s driveway. Dust rose and whirled around his old but reliable Ford Taurus wagon as Max’s aging Great Dane, Leonardo, loped off the porch and sauntered around the front bumper to stick his head in the car window.

Rocky patted the dog’s brindle head. “Hey, Leo, where’s your master? We’ve got work to do.”

Max staggered out of the open garage door and shielded his eyes from the bright sun. His too-yellow board shorts added to the glare. “C’mon, Rock, is there a reason we had to do this at daybreak on a Saturday?”

“It’s noon. And it’s Wednesday.”

Max dropped his flip-flops and scooted them around the hot driveway with his toes until he got his feet in them. He did all this while attempting to pull a holey t-shirt over his head and push several unruly curls out of his face. He grunted a couple times as if it were painful.

“Aw, Max, you don’t have to get all gussied up for me. You know I love you just the way you are.”

“Shut up.”

“What’s got you so grouchy this morning? You’re never more than one day out of step with the rest of the world and now you’re three. What gives?”

“One and a half jobs, my friend. I’m working at two restaurants. Open at this one, close at that one...not enough sleep.”

“I thought you were still working for your dad while you figured out what to do with your fancy college degree.”

“I was. But business is slow. Not many houses going up in this economy, and I’m not going to take a job from one of his regular crew who has kids and a mortgage.”

“Makes sense. We working in the usual spot?”

Max snatched sunglasses off the roof of his mom’s car and pointed. “Yep. Concrete pad by the shed. But we haven’t had rain in so long you’ll be able to roll around on the ground anywhere. Try to stay as close to the shade as possible.”

Rocky sped to the nearest oak and was out of the car in under thirty seconds. Max and Leonardo moseyed toward him with apparently no sense of the mission’s importance whatsoever.

“Get the lead out, Max. I need to get back to work sometime today.”

“Aw, hold your horses. We’ve got this oil changing bit down to a science. You remember the filter?”

“No, Max. I came all the way over here to change the oil without the new filter and the oil.”

Max paused at the shed entrance. “You know, I could go back and finish my nap.”

“Get the tools.”

Max put two jack stands and a drain pan on the creeper and slid it toward the car while Rocky took the handle of the hydraulic jack and tugged it out of its place in the corner. Two shop brooms and a rake came loose with it, and the ensuing tumble of handles knocked a coffee can full of screws off the neighboring shelf and right into his lap.

Max hurried toward him with a wrench and a couple sockets. “Take it easy over here, will ya? Don’t need you ripping your leg open.”

Rocky picked assorted hardware from around him and tossed it back into the can with a clunk. “I’m not going to rip anything open,
Mom
.”