Page 23 of Lovebug
“Trust you.”
Chapter Five
“BUG LADY!!!” a tiny voice screeches out in delight.
“Buddy!!” I screech out in similar delight.
I crouch down to the ground, and six-year-old Holden runs into my arms, squeezing me as hard as he can.
”I’m so happy to see you!” I coo. “I was starting to worry you wouldn’t make it today.”
“I’m sorry we’re late.” His mom exhales. “His little brother was up all night, one of our pipes sprang a leak this morning, and then, of course, there had to be crazy traffic built up on the—”
“Oh, it’s totally fine!” I interrupt her and try to put her mind at ease. “Everyone’s just getting to know their groups,” I reassure her. “How’s my guy doing?” I ask as I pull back and fluff Holden’s sandy-colored hair.
“Good! I’m… buggin’ out to see you.” Holden explodes into a shy smile, then he turns a bright shade of pink before he runs and hides his face in his mom’s belly.
“Aw, that was funny, honey bunny!” I say. “I’ve missed the Holden humor!”
“He’s been wanting to deliver that joke to you all morning,” his mom says with a sweet shake of her head. “He sure does love you.”
“Well, I love him too. I’m psyched he’s back this summer. How are you doing, Reneé?”
“Eh,” she says.
How do I respond to “eh?”
“Is everything… okay?” I lower my voice a bit, but I’m sure Holden can still hear me.
“It will be, yeah,” she says with a curt nod. Then she squats down to hug her son. “I’ll see you at three, okay, baby? Have an awesome time, and be a good listener.”
“I’m always a good listener, Mommy.”
“You are. Aren’t you?” she says, a warble creeping into her voice. “You’re my sweet, wonderful boy.”
Is it me, or are her eyes filling with tears?
What’s going on here?
“I love you, bubba.”
“Love you too, Mommy!” he says in a rush and starts reaching into the pockets of his shorts. “Mabel, I put a whole bunch of roly-polys in my pockets! Wanna see?”
Oh man, those poor roly-polys.
“Yes, yes! Let’s get those guys out of there!” I put my arm around his tiny shoulders and start guiding him toward the pavilion where all the groups of kids and counselors are assembling.
I get Holden settled with his counselor before turning back to check on his mom. I spot her leaning against her minivan, her face in her hands, and she’s shaking. I take a step in her direction, but when she sees me, she quickly wipes her eyes, gets in her car, and slowly drives away.
None of my business, I suppose? I’m head counselor to the counselors and kids, right? Not the parents? Gosh, I don’t know what my role in a situation like this should be.
Just then, the bell clangs for the morning meeting, so I do my best to put Holden’s mom out of my mind and focus on making our first day fantastic for the kids.
A few hours later, the camp is in full swing. I’m in the middle of teaching my Critters Corner class to the turtle tots and am feeling totally in my element. “Is everybody ready to make a critter craft?” I ask the picnic tables full of four-year-olds.
“Yes!” they answer in a tiny-voiced chorus of cuteness.
“Okay, CITs, come on up and gather some construction paper, safety scissors, and glue sticks for your group, and we’ll get started on our web-spinning spiders!”
