Summer at Willow Lake Read Online Free PDF Page A

puts ketchup on everything he eats, even at breakfast,” she said. “His favorite group is Talking Heads. And he always wins at one-on-one.” She was guessing at that last bit, based on the fact that he was so tall, and he wore Chuck Taylor high-tops. And he seemed fast and had big hands. She was guessing at everything, as a matter of fact, but he didn’t contradict her.
    Then it was Connor’s turn. “This is Lolly,” he said, her name curling from his lips like an insult.

    Moment of truth, she thought, adjusting her glasses. He could ruin her. She’d shown too much of herself on the way up the mountain. He cleared his throat, tossed his hair out of his eyes, assumed a defiant slouch. His gaze slid over her—knowing, contemptuous—and he cleared his throat. The other campers, who had been restless through most of the exercise, settled down. There was no denying that the kid had presence, commanding attention like a scary teacher, or an actor in a play.
    I hate camp, she thought with a fierce passion that made her face burn. I hate it, and I hate this boy, and he’s about to destroy me.
    Connor cleared his throat again, his gaze sweeping the group of kids.
    “She likes to read books, she’s really good at playing piano and she wants to get better at swimming.”
    They sat back down and didn’t look at each other again—except once. And when their eyes met, she was surprised to see that they were both almost smiling.
    All right, she conceded, so he hadn’t decided to make her a human sacrifice this time, or use her for target practice. She was torn between liking this kid and resenting him. One thing Lolly was sure of. She did hate summer camp, and she didn’t even care if it belonged to her grandparents. She was never coming back here again for as long as she lived. Ever.

 
     
    INVITATION
     
    THE HONOR OF YOUR PRESENCE IS
    REQUESTED
    BY JANE AND CHARLES BELLAMY
    ON THE OCCASION OF OUR
    50TH WEDDING ANNIVERSARY.
     
    YOU’VE SHARED IN OUR LIVES WITH
    YOUR FRIENDSHIP AND LOVE.
    NOW WE INVITE YOU TO JOIN US IN
    CELEBRATING
    OUR GOLDEN ANNIVERSARY.
     
    SATURDAY, THE 26TH OF AUGUST, 2006.
    CAMP KIOGA, RR #47, AVALON,
    ULSTER COUNTY, NEW YORK.
     
    RUSTIC ACCOMMODATIONS PROVIDED.

Two
    O livia Bellamy set down the engraved invitation and smiled across the table at her grandmother. “What a lovely idea,” she said. “Congratulations to you and Granddad.”
    Nana slowly rotated the tiered array of tiny sandwiches and cakes. Once a month no matter what else was going on in their lives, grandmother and granddaughter met for tea at Astor Court in the Saint Regis Hotel in midtown. They had been doing it for years, ever since Olivia was a pudgy, sullen twelve-year-old in need of attention. Even now, there was something soothing about stepping into the Beaux Arts luxury of elegant furnishings, potted palms and the discreet murmur of harp music.
    Nana settled on a cucumber slice garnished with a floret of salmon mousse. “Thank you. The anniversary is three months away, but I’m already getting excited.”
    “Why Camp Kioga?” Olivia asked, fiddling with the tea strainer. She hadn’t been there since her last summer before college. By choice, she had put all the drama and angst behind her.
    “Camp Kioga is a special place to me and Charles.” Next, Nana sampled a tiny finger sandwich spread with truffle butter. “It’s the place where we first met, and we were married there, under the gazebo, on Spruce Island in the middle of Willow Lake.”
    “You’re kidding. I never knew that. Why didn’t I know that?”
    “Trust me, what you don’t know about this family could fill volumes. Charles and I were a regular Romeo and Juliet.”
    “You never told me this story. Nana, what’s up?”
    “Nothing’s up. Most young people don’t give a fig about how their grandparents met and married. Nor should they.”
    “I’m giving a fig right now,” Olivia said. “Spill.”
    “It was all so long ago, and seems