“Who's that?' Shelley asked.
“Benson's mother. I had a chat and a smoke with her out here last night.”
Edna approached them and was introduced. 'You haven't seen my sweater, have you, Jane?'
“I have. Where? Oh, on one of the rockers on the porch.”
Edna went off to fetch her sweater, and Jane and Shelley went into the dining room. Their idea of a
“light lunch' was an apple and a piece of cheese. Benson's was a selection of four different kinds of sandwiches, three soups, an assortment of chips, dips, nuts, cheeses, soft drinks, coffee, fancy tea bags, another platter of melon — in balls this time instead of slices — and two salads.
“I'm going to go home weighing four hundred pounds,' Shelley said. 'I'll have to wrap up in a tent because my clothes won't fit.'
“Nonsense. We're burning off every single calorie just by walking around in the cold,' Jane said. 'Now, dig in.”
Jane felt so stupefied by lunch that she couldn't face a lecture. If she were to sit quietly, she knew it would be only moments before she was sound asleep and snoring repulsively.
“I know I should be taking my responsibilities more seriously,' she told Shelley, 'but I'm going to go take a nap.”
Shelley flapped a hand dismissively. 'Go ahead. We don't actually need to know about the wildlife in order to make an intelligent recommendation on sending the kids here. Unless, of course, they're going to tell us about something huge and vicious that eats teenagers.'
“If so, ask if they're for sale,' Jane said.
As Jane sluggishly made her way back to their cabin, she realized it was misting and there, was a faint, faraway rumble of thunder. A perfect afternoon for a nap. She made a quick E-mail run on the computer, picking up a delightfully personal note from Mel, a plea from her daughter, Katie, that Jane authorize Grandma to advance funds for a shopping trip — funds Jane would reimburse, of course — and a note from her son Mike asking her opinion of his joining the college band, which would require the purchase of a tux.
She replied to all of the notes briefly.
“Me, too,' to Mel.
“No,' to Katie.
And 'Let me think about it,' to Mike.
She sent the notes off, removed her shoes, and snuggled into bed for a nice, cozy snooze.
When Jane woke, she thought she'd overslept and it was night. But it was merely overcast and had apparently rained quite hard while she was napping. Not nice for a camp-out. She was still stumbling around trying to get her bearings when Shelley came in wearing an oversized khaki poncho with a hood.
“Ah, the tent wardrobe already!' Jane said.
“If it isn't Sleeping Beauty,' Shelley exclaimed. 'And I'll have you know I haven't eaten a bite since lunch.' She bent way over and let the poncho slide off over her head. 'I brought you one of these, too. They're really toasty. Flannel-lined and everything. Benson loaned us a bunch.'
“What can you possibly imagine I'd need it for?' Jane asked.
“Why, to wear to the campfire dinner, of course.'
“Shelley, you're kidding! What do I look like? Admiral Byrd? Noah? An idiot? It's cold and rainy out there.'
“No, it's not so bad. The rain's stopped and it's actually a little warmer now than it was earlier. It'll be fun.'
“Compared to what? Having our fingernails ripped out?'
“What a poop you're being,' Shelley said. 'A
“You mean we don't get to eat unless we go sit in the rain?'
“First, it's not really raining—”
Jane gestured at the glass doors. 'Shelley, that silvery wet stuff falling out there is rain.'
“No, it's just the residue of rain dripping off the leaves,' Shelley said sweetly.
“Oh, of course. That makes a huge difference.'
“And secondly, you can stay here and eat if you want. I think there are some of those neon orange crackers with peanut butter in my car. At least, they were there last summer. They might be a little smashed, but they'll taste the same as ever. And I'm pretty sure there's some room-temperature ginger ale somewhere in my luggage. What a feast!'
“How do you get into these tent garments?' Jane asked with a sigh.
Seven
Once she had donned the long underwear, extra socks, and the lined poncho, Jane had to admit — not out loud to Shelley, of course — that she was quite comfortable. And the rain had stopped, though there were still flashes of lightning in the western sky and occasional low murmurs of thunder. As she and Shelley headed up the road to the campsite, they could see Liz and Al Flowers's tall forms ahead of them and could hear John and Eileen Clay-pool's loud voices behind them.
