“That’s where we usually stay.”
She leaned forward and looked out the window as we passed. She seemed fascinated by things I took for granted. I found myself enjoying her sense of discovery, so I pointed out the RV area on the left and told her about how it filled up during the summer months.
Susan parked the car between the clubhouse and the nearest motel-style building.
“I’m sorry things are a bit unsettled,” she said as we climbed out of the station wagon. “The camp is mostly closed down for the winter. And…
Jeremiah usually took care of guests.”
“That’s Gunny’s real name,” I whispered to Christy.
“I figured that out.”
She rolled her eyes but smiled.
“Doug and Olivia arrived this morning,” Susan continued, “so they helped get the rooms ready.”
“When do Kirk and Dawn get here?” Mom asked.
“Late tonight,” Susan said. “They’re flying into Charlotte and renting a car.” She gestured at the building. “We made up three rooms.”
“I can have my own?” Erin said. “Awesome!”
I carried Mom’s suitcase and dress bag into the middle room, while Erin headed for the one on the left. I came back and grabbed our bags, and Christy followed me to the room on the right.
They were just as I remembered, but Christy looked around with polite curiosity. The queen-sized bed was made and the sheets turned down. A neat pile of towels sat on the dresser, and a little space heater glowed in the corner. Susan had thought of everything. She’d even added a vase with fresh gerbera daisies on the nightstand.
Ours was one of the rooms with bunk beds, and I glanced at them absently. I did a double take when I realized they didn’t have sheets.
“What is it?” Christy said quietly.
“Um… only one bed’s made.” I glanced at her. “Lemme ask Susan for some extra sheets.”
“Don’t!” She blushed and then said more calmly, “No, it’s all right.”
“Are you sure? That’s more than a baby step.”
She nodded. “I’m sure. I’ve…”
“Um… maybe let’s think about this a bit more.”
“Well, there’s no way we’re gonna sleep together without fooling around.
I mean, you may not be ready to go all the way, but there’s plenty we can do short of that.”
“Like what?” She held her breath in anticipation.
“For one, I think you’re ready to meet Mr. Big.”
“Mr. Big or Mr. Good Thing?”
My brows drew together in confusion. “There’s a difference?”
“Of course,” she said, with a logic that made sense to her. “Good things come in small packages.”
“Mr… I mean… oh gosh… Mr. Big, of course.
