“The buses arrive at five, like last Friday. Okay, so...see you tomorrow.”
He sounded puzzled, but Dana knew her decision to figure out what she needed to do before telling him about the Nirvana deal was best.
Two hours later Dana had found three other sites in the Chicago area that could work for Nirvana and emailed them to her father. She’d drafted an impassioned plea to the Willow Springs council to ask it to reconsider selling the land, though she had doubts that would happen. Her fallback plan would be to ask the council to consider selling the land to KidsFirst Place instead, though Dana knew that idea promised even less success. There was no way KidsFirst could match any offer from Nirvana, unless the spa-and-resort chain could be persuaded to find another location. Then the Willow Springs council might be willing to sell the land and camp to the drop-in. Two unlikely scenarios, both contingent on a miracle.
She hoped that Matt would like her ideas, now that she had had a chance to put them together in a logical fashion.
Her father phoned as she was getting home. “Dana?”
She sighed, “Yes, Dad?”
“I got your email with the list of alternative sites for Nirvana, but Sothern and Davis can’t afford to lose a valuable client. Your plea, no matter how well intended, is based on sentimentality rather than reason. There will be other places for Camp Hope. I’ll accept your recusal and will handle the sale negotiations myself. So that’s it. Thought I’d better let you know.”
The swelling in her throat made a reply impossible. Dana simply shut down her phone. If you want a fight, Dad, you’ll get one.
* * *
THE WEEKEND UNFOLDED the same as the one previous, thanks to her familiarity with the routines and her new confidence. Her ease with the girls now and her enjoyment of them got her through the moments of anxiety about the sale. A few times she noticed Matt looking at her with a puzzled expression, as if he had some expectation of her and she hadn’t come through. There were a couple of times when she had the chance to get him alone, but she let them slip by, her mind in tumult.
She had a break midafternoon when the girls were participating in a puppet-making workshop in the dining hall.
“You look tired,” Kristen said. “Why don’t you go to the cabin and have a quick nap? There’s no need for both of us to supervise the girls making puppets.”
Dana was all too willing to have some time alone. She left the back way through the kitchen and was skirting around a group of boys having an archery lesson when she saw Sandro rushing toward her.
“Do you know where Matt is?” he asked. He was breathless, clutching his cell phone and using it to point to the lodge. “In his office?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Haven’t seen him since breakfast.”
He ran to the kitchen door without another word. Dana continued on to the cabin but the sight of Sandro, panic-stricken, was enough to dispel any thought of rest. She couldn’t stop thinking about the possible cause of his upset.
After fifteen minutes, she gave up and returned to the dining hall in time to help Kristen with the girls’ rotation to the archery activity. There was no sign of either Matt or Sandro. When Matt finally made an appearance at supper, he looked ten years older. His greeting to the kids and recap of the night’s activities was subdued and later, Dana noticed that his absence from the campfire and marshmallow roast caused some whispering by staff.
Dana was guiding her group back from the washroom cabin at bedtime when she heard shrieks. Her girls broke into a run with Dana at their heels and reached their cabin as Kristen and her group were exiting. Kristen was trying to calm her hysterical girls and, as Dana drew close, had to shout. “There’s a bat inside.”
Dana’s girls began to cry and someone wailed, “Will it suck our blood?” which raised the volume a few decibels. Lights were turning on in the boys’ cabin and the lodge. Dana stood helplessly in the doorway, peering in to see a disoriented bat swooping back and forth, casting eerie shadows across the ceiling. She had a vague memory of a bat in her cabin at the camp she had attended. Same reactions from those girls, too, except for the one who’d come up with an easy solution.
Okay, Dana. Give it a try. She stepped inside, ducking and covering her head with her hands as she dashed into the small room she shared with Kristen and turned out the light. Then she sprinted around the bunk beds and switched off the overhead lights as she ran out the door.
Breathless, she gave Kristen a thumbs-up and hissed, “It should fly out of the cabin now that it’s dark inside, too. No lights to disorient it. Let’s keep the girls quiet though.”
They shushed the girls and minutes later, one of them spotted the bat. “It’s going out!”
Kristen started herding the girls back inside. Dana waited a moment longer, catching her breath.
“Well done,” Matt said.
Dana swung around.
“I intended to help but you seemed to have it all in hand. What made you think to turn out all the lights?”
She was so happy to see him she wanted to throw her arms around him, but there were a couple of stragglers slowly heading into the cabin. “Believe it or not, from my one camping experience,” she laughed, tipping slightly against him.
“Good that you got some benefit from it.” His arm steadied her, holding her just long enough for her to think he might kiss her. But he withdrew his arm and took a step back. “Listen,” he whispered, “I was making the rounds when this bat scare happened. Can you tell Kristen that there’s an emergency staff meeting tomorrow, right after the kids leave?”
Dana stiffened, joining the dots of Sandro’s panicky search for Matt to Matt’s intense preoccupation at dinner. She had a sickening feeling she knew what the meeting concerned.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, hoping she was wrong.
“No. Nothing is okay,” he said with a long sigh, “except having you right here, beside me.” Then he patted her arm and disappeared into the dark before she had a chance to ruin the magic of his last comment by telling him what she’d learned.
The next morning dragged. For Dana, not the kids, who enthusiastically raced through the schedule of events. Matt and Sandro appeared briefly at lunch, but neither were out by the buses when it was time for the kids to go home. Their absence was chalked up to the reason for the emergency meeting and as the kids gathered their belongings and bickered about which bus they wanted to ride home on, Dana noticed the worried faces of the adults.
“Any idea what this meeting is about?” Kristen asked as the last bus rolled away.
Dana shrugged, avoiding eye contact. “Got me,” she mumbled as she walked toward the cabin to clean up.
When they were all gathered in the Big Room half an hour later, Matt announced, “The Willow Springs council has put up this property for sale.” His voice was hoarse, close to breaking. He waited until the gasps and outbursts died down. “Sandro’s contact on the council passed the information on to him this morning. And there’s a possible buyer.” Hands started waving. “I’ll answer a few of your questions but then Sandro and I need to get back to the city. We’ve called an emergency board meeting at KidsFirst Place.”
Someone asked about the lease.
“Expires at the end of this month,” Matt said.
Someone else suggested a lawsuit. “On what grounds?” was Matt’s reply and Dana had to agree. As Matt had told her, renewal had been an unwritten promise.
But the question that stumped Matt came from Andy. “What’s the point of our presentation tomorrow night, then? If they’ve decided to sell?” The room filled with murmurs about that.
“We haven’t received word that our presentation is canceled. Sandro, do you think you can pursue that with your friend? Find out if we’re still on the agenda?”
The possibility of a canceled presentation hadn’t occurred to Dana. If that happened, there
’d be no opportunity to pitch the ideas she’d been working on. She raised her hand.
“Okay, last question. Dana?”
“I was thinking,” she began, standing up to speak, “if we query whether or not Camp Hope is still on the agenda, someone on the council might suggest we be removed.”
“Of course,” someone behind her complained. “Why have us ask for a five-year lease renewal now?”
“But that’s what I’m getting at. If Sandro raises the matter, there’s a good chance they’ll tell us not to come. But if we don’t say anything at all, and no one contacts us, we can just show up ready to talk. All of us.” She looked around at the faces turned her way. Some understood her point and some were mystified.
“And once a whole lot of us are there, it might not be easy to simply ask us to leave,” Matt said.
“Especially if we have a big crowd. As many people as we can muster, to advocate for the camp.”
“They might as well let us go on with our presentation,” Matt continued, smiling. “I like it!”
“But isn’t that just a waste of our time?” asked Tony. “If they have a buyer?”
“Even if the sale is a done deal, the evening won’t be a waste of our time,” Dana replied. “The presentation will go on record and will get publicity. Maybe we should invite the reporter who wrote that awful article about the camp, too. Best-case scenario, we convince the council to reconsider. Worst case, we find another location for Camp Hope, and with the public support I believe we can get, we could very well find more donors to the camp and the drop-in. It’s worth a try,” Dana said as she sat down.
“Let’s go for it,” June called out from the back.
Dana stayed behind as everyone left. Watching the more optimistic faces of the staff, the way they high-fived or clapped one another on the back at this better outlook for the next day, her resolve to tell Matt waned. But when she looked at his drawn face, she knew she wouldn’t be able to leave without letting him know the full story.
“Matt?” Her voice echoed in the room.
He glanced up from where he’d been jotting a few postmeeting notes, surprised to see her still standing there.
“Hey! I didn’t realize you were still here.”
“I...I need to talk to you.”
“Sure. What’s up?”
She looked behind her at the open door and stepped back to close it.
Matt frowned. “Whatever it is, it looks serious,” he said quietly. “Why don’t you sit?”
Dana shook her head. “No, I need to get this out before I lose my courage.”
“You’re making me nervous.” His laugh was short, half-hearted.
“The company that wants to buy this property—Nirvana—is one of the companies that my dad works for. His client. I should say our client because I was handling the file. Before I started here, and kind of off and on since.”
“What?”
Heart thudding, Dana took a deep breath. “Before I met you, I was working for a company called Evergreen, negotiating their purchase of this spa-and-resort outfit. Well—” Dana gave a vague hand gesture “—at least I was until I got involved here at the camp, and then I kind of got distracted.” She began to pace, unnerved by his solemn, unflinching stare.
He cleared his throat. “You’re telling me that the outfit that wants to buy this place is a client of your law firm?”
She nodded.
“How long have you known about all of this?”
“I found out on Thursday.”
“Thursday?”
“I tried to persuade my dad to stop the sale or to find an alternative site but—”
“Wait, wait!” He held up a hand and rose from his chair. “You’ve known this since Thursday and you haven’t said a word until now? Sunday?”
She flinched at the hurt in his voice.
“You let me go through...what?...three days without a single word?” He began to pace around the room, around her.
“I wanted to tell you, Matt. Please believe me. But I thought I could fix it. That’s why I came up with the idea of getting the council to reconsider selling. I hoped that maybe it would all work out. I know that was unrealistic.”
He wheeled around, incredulity darkening his face. “Unrealistic is right. But not saying anything...” He shook his head. “That was cruel and inconsiderate. I thought...” His voice cracked. “I thought we had a connection. Something different.”
“We do!” she cried. “I know we do, Matt. I’m sorry. I needed to get my thoughts in order before you’d have to know.”
“But, Dana, these things always come out sooner or later. You ought to have known that.” He went back to his chair and slumped onto it. “Camp Hope has been my dream for a long time, Dana,” he said, his voice low, drained of energy. “I’ve devoted the last five years of my life shaping it—planning, organizing, working for it. If the sale goes through, I’m not sure if I can give another five years to do it all over again.”
“But people will help you, Matt. All of us. I—”
“You?”
“I’ll come to the meeting tomorrow and try to speak to the council.”
He waved a dismissive hand. “No, I think it’s better if you don’t come. At all.”
“But—”
“I need some time here. Maybe you should go,” he interrupted.
She kept her eyes fixed on him a moment longer and then walked out of the room.
* * *
MATT LEFT THE camp in a precarious state, his brain working on autopilot, and arrived at his apartment with scarcely any recollection of navigating the city’s streets. Fortunately, it was late enough that his inattention posed little threat to anyone but himself.
By morning, anger had given way to hurt and despair. How could she have done this to him? He wanted to believe that she’d intended to tell him about the sale and was hoping to fix things, as she’d said, but he figured people had choices. Twenty years ago, he’d made an impulsive choice to jump onto those train tracks. That choice had led to another—his decision not to join Lenny’s gang.
In spite of her excuses, Dana had had a choice, too. She chose to be loyal to her father and his law firm. Not to him. That was the most painful betrayal of all. Had he been so wrong about her feelings for him? About her? He hated to think the Dana Sothern who had breezed into his office, dashing off a thank-you check for saving her life, was the real Dana.
Perhaps he’d been blinded to the truth, but he couldn’t reconcile that Dana with the woman who’d drawn a flowery welcome poster for the first group of girls, who’d suggested storytelling and cocoa for frightened kids, who’d shooed a panicked bat out of a cabin and befriended a lonely child. That was the woman he’d come to see as the real Dana.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
DANA POURED HERSELF another cup of coffee and took it out to her terrace. It was the day of the council presentation and she’d been up since daybreak, thinking of Matt’s hurt and disappointment. Crying at her stupidity. She hadn’t seriously cried in years, not since her teens. Not really since that day, when she vowed never to let another person—not even her father—make her cry.
But after her second coffee, her outlook improved despite the fact that Matt hadn’t answered any of her texts, emails or phone calls. Sure, he needed some time to recover, but how much? It was already midmorning. How long did it take to cool down, see that she’d meant well? Forgive her?
She took her breakfast dishes inside and got dressed. The council presentation was scheduled for seven that evening, so she decided to go into the office and try to act as though this were a normal working day. As long as she could avoid her father, she’d be okay. Besides, she needed a distraction from the sickening thought that Matt might never forgive her.
Her father’s office door was closed all morning and for the first
time in ages, he hadn’t sent her any messages. Afraid to face me? she wondered. Or still upset after our argument on Thursday?
At lunch, she took a circuitous route around the floor to the elevators, avoiding Brent’s office. When she got down to the concourse, she called Ross Henning, the pro bono lawyer who’d helped with the two boys and arranged to meet with him the next day. She had an idea, a thought that had been percolating about the direction she wanted her career to take. If there was a good time to make a change, she thought with some irony, this was definitely it.
Dana bumped into her father and another man waiting for the elevator when she returned to the office. Brent nodded, but didn’t introduce the man or even acknowledge her. She spent the rest of the afternoon finishing a case file and then going over her speech to the Willow Springs town council. Matt might have told her not to come, but she’d decided otherwise.
* * *
“MATT?”
Rosie stood in the office doorway at Camp Hope.
“Hmm?” He looked up from the piece of paper he hadn’t been reading, his mind watching instead a rerun of last night’s episode with Dana.
“Kristen and I have finished our phone calls, but we had another idea. Thought I’d pass it by you first.”
“Go ahead.”
“A lot of emails of support have come in so we thought we’d print them out and make up a display board for tonight. I know you’ve got a PowerPoint organized for your talk, but we thought we’d set this up outside the meeting room for people to look at before the meeting starts.”
He noted the concern in his sister’s eyes and made a show of interest. “That’s a great idea, Rosie. Thanks!”
“Geez, Matt, tone it down a bit, will you?” She grinned. “Seriously, you can only do your best, right? Plus, there’s a big team here behind you, so relax.”
Her Kind of Hero Page 20
