“The latest cookie fairy was your niece Chassie. That little gal has always had a tough row to hoe, so I’m happy to see she’s doin’ well and she’s come into her own. She invited us over to see her new goat grotto. I reckon I might even try that goat cheese you all have been raving about. The funny thing? As thick as she and Keely have always been, she’s ticked off at our daughter. Then she went on to remind me of that time Keely got kicked out of church camp. Do you remember that? After she left, I got to thinkin’ that you never really told me what happened that day. As far as I know, you might’ve punched a nun. Or socked a priest. But I’d like to think you would’ve told me since you know how hot it makes me when you get your back up and come out swinging.”
“Mr. McKay. Time’s up.”
“Come back to me. I’m right here. Where I’ve always been, where I’ll always be. I love you. Please. Come back to me.”
Punched a nun? Socked a priest? Really Carson?
Carolyn hadn’t strayed far from the last time he’d visited—or maybe she had and she just didn’t know it. But it seemed as if she’d been right there this time, hearing every word from the moment he started to speak. And she felt that pang of separation as acutely as he did.
I want out of here. Please. Let me go. Find a way to bring me back.
But whenever she fought against the darkness it enveloped her more quickly.
She batted aside the cobwebs in her mind, focusing on the memory until the thread appeared that led her straight to the phone call that started it all…
“Mrs. McKay?”
“Yes. Who is this?”
“This is Sister Grace from the Holy Rosary Church Camp in Grass Springs.”
Her heart about stopped. “Has something happened to Keely?”
“No, she’s fine, considering. She’s…”
Carolyn waited for the nun to stutter out the issue.
“Directly to the point, your daughter has become a bit of a discipline problem.”
Not exactly a newsflash. In the past two years, Keely resented going to church camp, even when she attended with her cousin Ramona, who she didn’t get to see often. But Carolyn had warned her to suck it up; it was only fourteen days out of her summer. “Is Keely playing pranks again this year?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
Carolyn didn’t want to ask, but at age fifteen, Keely was already turning male heads. “Has she been visiting the boys’ cabins? Because I’ll remind you that she does have five older brothers and a dozen male cousins, so she tends to prefer the company of boys to girls.”
“Mrs. McKay, that is not the problem either.”
“Then please tell me what my daughter has done to earn the discipline problem phone call.”
“She started a fight with not one, but two other girl campers. A fist fight,” Sister Grace clarified.
“Good Lord.” Carolyn bit her lip to stop from asking how bad the other girls’ injuries were because Keely knew how to throw a punch, take a punch, and had no qualms about using her fists to get her point across.
Just like her father.
Or just like you.
It shouldn’t have been a point of pride for Carolyn that her daughter never backed down from a fight—yet it was. Not that she’d ever admit that to anyone. “Was Keely injured?”
“Not as much as the other girls.” She paused. “In light of this latest infraction…we’re requesting that you come to camp and pick your daughter up.”
She froze. “Excuse me? You’re kicking Keely out of church camp?”
“Are you f**kin’ serious?” Carson said behind her. “That girl is givin’ me a goddamned ulcer.”
Carolyn whirled around and glared at him.
“I’m sure you understand our decision. We cannot tolerate that type of behavior at a church camp where young people are supposed to be learning to exhibit Christian behavior and live lives of kindness and compassion.”
“While I understand your reasoning, I’m just as interested to know what provoked my daughter into that type of reaction. Because she only comes out swinging when she’s backed into a corner or if a member of her family is threatened.”
Silence.
Which meant there was more to this incident than her hot-headed daughter just hauling off and slugging someone. “Sister Grace? What aren’t you telling me?”
“We’ve gotten a statement from two other campers about how the situation started—but the statements are conflicting. And the parents of the girls your daughter attacked are demanding that Keely be removed from camp.”
“I can drive up there today and get her,” Carson offered. “I always thought makin’ her go to church camp was punishment anyway.”
“Hush,” she hissed at him.
“Excuse me?” Sister Grace said.
“Sorry, Sister, I was talking to a yapping dog.”
Carson grinned and let loose a howl.
Not funny, she mouthed at him. “Am I correct in assuming the other girls involved in the altercation are also being sent home?”
“No, since your daughter was the instigator—”
“Did Keely admit she started the fight?” Carolyn demanded.
“Well, no.”
“So my daughter just got caught fighting with the other two girls. All you have is those girls’ word that Keely started it, and I’ll bet one of those conflicting reports you mentioned, backed Keely’s version of events, didn’t it?”
Silence.
“Sister Grace, I’ll be more than happy to come to camp and discuss possible solutions to this predicament with you, the other camp counselors, my daughter, the girls involved and their parents. So please call me back when you’ve set up a time for that meeting to take place. God Bless.” She hung up and tossed the phone aside. Bracing her hands on the counter, she closed her eyes, giving herself a mental pat for the foresight to end the conversation, rather than making it worse by tearing into a nun.
They’d call back. They had to. So she had some time to calm down or come up with a plan of attack.
Bad choice of words.
Carson moved in behind her. Those strong arms wrapped around her—just like she needed them to—and he placed a tender kiss on the back of her neck. “What can I do?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to be one of those mothers who rushes in and defends her child, regardless if that child is in the right or the wrong, so the kid never learns to deal with the consequences. We’ve always made the boys deal with this stuff. I’ve never swooped in after one of their many, many, many fist fights.” She took a breath. “I tell myself it’s different with Keely, not because she’s the baby, but because she’s a girl. I tell myself that boys are boys, and McKay boys come by their need to solve problems by using their fists naturally.”