Chapter 1
8 Years Later…
"Now, I know I packed that extra water bottle, but are you sure you don't need another coat?"
Lottie sighed up at her father, "Daddy, it's the summer! I don't need more than one coat, and I don't even think I need the one I have!"
Niles gave his daughter a worried look. It was the same look he'd given her in some fashion for the last eight years – when she cried, when there was something she needed, when she'd hurt herself...
And now, it was making its daily appearance. It wouldn't be around for the next few weeks – Lottie was spending them at a campsite in Maine with other children her age, and Niles wouldn't be there to make it whilst she climbed trees and swam in the lake...
All activities which could represent danger, and he had to rely on the camp staff to keep her safe!
Well, this was one thing he could try and do to keep her safe.
"But...what if it rains more than once, and your coat is still wet from the first time?"
He knew he was being a little over the top (and he certainly wasn't surprised by Lottie's good-natured eye rolling), but he couldn't help it. This was his baby girl – his little Charlotte! The most treasured thing in his life...
But at the same time, he knew she was growing up. She wanted some freedom, some space, and maybe eight weeks in America would help in that regard. She would be in a fun, controlled environment, but she would also have some freedom from life at home.
How he was going to miss her though...
She'd begged to come to this camp for months on end, and although having her so far away (an ocean away, really) would be a strain on his heart, he also knew this was making her happy.
He wanted nothing more than her to be happy.
"I'll be fine, Daddy," Lottie said, leaning forward to give (and receive) a tight hug.
"Write home, alright?" Niles said, sniffing; he didn't want her to see him cry, but he was on the verge of tears already! "There are plenty of postcards, stationery and stamps in your luggage."
He pulled away a little, so he could look at her in the eye.
"And a brand new deck of cards." he said, beginning to smile, "Maybe you'll find someone on this continent who can actually whip your tush at poker."
"Maybe, maybe not," she said. "You know just how damn good I'm getting."
"Ah, ah – language," he scolded her jokingly, and kissed the top of her head. "You don't want to go spreading that around the camp, otherwise they'll make you come back."
His daughter laughed, before mumbling, "You'd like that."
Niles actually thought he would, but Lottie's happiness came first. It always would.
He used one arm to hug her tightly again, and buried his face a little in her hair.
"I'm only a phone call away if you don't like it," he told her. "Just say the word and I'll be back."
Lottie grinned as she stepped out of their hug. Niles always thought she looked so much like him when she did that, and it briefly took away some of the hurt that came in knowing she was practically identical to C.C. at every other moment in time.
"I'll be fine," Lottie even sounded like her mother sometimes. "See you in eight weeks, Daddy o' mine."
She reached out her hand as she said that, and Niles knew what she wanted them to do – they'd developed a secret handshake that only they used, and now was the perfect opportunity.
Father and daughter shared a smile before beginning their (admittedly) extravagantly worked out handshake. It had all kinds of moves in it, including a butt bump, a wave under the chin and a shimmy to-and-fro. It had taken over a month to get it right in one go!
When it was over, Niles knelt to wrap Lottie in a tight hug – the last one he would give her in a long while.
"Have fun," he said, placing one last kiss on his girl's cheek and pulling away.
"I will, Daddy!" said Charlotte, eager to run off with the rest of the children, all gathered around two counsellors who were ticking the name of the new arrivals of a list and giving out the cabins where each girl was supposed to sleep.
"Have fun then," Niles said, waving his little girl off.
Lottie nodded enthusiastically and ran off, not looking back. Not even once. He felt a strange sense of... loss?... then. Was this the empty nest syndrome? It couldn't be... could it? It was far too soon.
Whatever it was, he still wished he could make time slow up. His girl was growing, and although seeing his Lottie thriving and growing into a kind and accomplished young woman filled his heart with pride, part of him wanted her to remain his baby girl forever.
But he had to snap out of it a little – she was only eight, for crying out loud! He was going to have plenty of time with her before she went away anywhere yet, and by then he'd be so proud of her, he'd only be able to marvel at the things she was doing!
He had to let her have these weeks. They were important for letting her spread her wings.
So, taking one last glance at his little one as she ran to join the crowd of children gathering around the counsellors, he smiled to himself and started to walk back to the car.
Lottie, meanwhile, was hurrying to get to the front without shoving. She didn't want to make any trouble – especially not when she didn't know what the place or the people would be like!
She just wanted a good cabin, with a nice view of the lake, and some nice people to share it with.
She made it to the gathered group just in time to hear her name being called.
"Charlotte Brightmore!" called one of the counsellors – the younger one, who looked like a de-aged version of the other counsellor.
"Here!" said Lottie, raising her hand And making her way to the front of the line.
The woman – Marva Jr was her name; it said so on her name tag – smiled down at Charlotte, "Welcome to Camp Walden, Charlotte!"
"Thank you," said the girl, "I am sorry if I was a bit late, but my plane got delayed in Heathrow due to the fog – you know how England is in June."
Marva Jr released a small laugh, "Can't say I do! Never been to jolly good ol' Engerland, but welcome to the great U.S of A. and to our camp, or as we like to call it, the most beautiful spot on God's green Earth."
Lottie smiled. It really did feel good to be there – for some reason, going to America just felt...well, right! Like there was something there she'd been missing, that she could find in the next eight weeks.
"Thank you," she said to the counsellor.
Marva Jr gave her a friendly tap on the arm, and looked down her list again.
"Let's see here, then..." she mused aloud, skimming the paper with her pen. "You are in the Navajo cabin. We'll take you all down to your cabins when everyone's been divided into their groups, okay?"
The little girl nodded, and Marva Jr pointed her in the direction of some others who'd also been assigned that cabin, and Lottie went to introduce herself. Her Daddy had always told her to be polite to strangers. Until they gave one a reason not to be, of course.
She turned away just in time to miss the bus pulling up at the camp stop.
The door hissed as it opened, and a pair of shoes sized identically to Lottie's stepped out, their owner thanking the driver as she tugged her backpack out over the step.
Amelia Babcock had been looking forward to this camping trip for months, too. The swimming in the lake, the nature hikes and wildlife spotting, the crafts and team building games – it all sounded so exciting, and completely different to New York
It'd been all she could talk about to her Mom, and now it was finally happening!
Unfortunately her mother hadn't been able to drop her off that morning, but she'd given her a lot of hugs and kisses and made her promise she'd write home before she and her grandpa Stewart had seen her off at the airport.
It'd been kinda fun, being on a plane without her mother there. But they'd made sure she had a member of staff supervising her, who hadn't left her side until she'd gotten the bus to go to the camp.
But now she was there: Camp Walden for girls! Eight fun-filled weeks were ahead, and she simply couldn't wait to start! She'd read in the informational leaflet that the camp offered numerous sports, including fencing; she was itching to kick some ass, like her Mom always encouraged her to do. Who knew, maybe she'd also find a worthy opponent in poker.
Taking a deep breath and filling her lungs with pure Maine air, Mia rounded the bus and went in search of her duffle bag. She smiled when she saw it on top of a small pile of bags on a quad – she'd been expecting a long wait for it considering the amount of girls in that bus, but–
Amelia never got to finish her thought before the bus driver tossed half a dozen duffle bags onto the pile, burying her own underneath other people's belongings.
Mia, wearing her favourite overalls, an oversized t-shirt and a little cap that read "girlz rule", braced herself. She advanced towards the pile, muttering to herself.
"Okay... I can see the handles..." she said, "I just have to get it out... somehow."
She walked around it a couple of times, studying angles and looking for weak points that might give way and free her trapped belongings.
But she couldn't see any.
Well, there was only one thing for it. As her Mommy often said, if there's no other way, brute force is all you've got.
"I can do it," she said to herself, seizing herself for the moment and the handles of the bag to pull with all her might...
But the bag didn't budge. The luggage on top of it felt like it weighed a ton!
She had to let go, and she stumbled backwards.
"Okay, no I can't..."
She bit her lip, staring forlornly at her bag. How could it all be going wrong so quickly?! She'd come to have fun, not get stuck just trying to get her bag!
That was when she noticed she wasn't alone. There was an older girl stood just to one side of her, her own duffel bag on her shoulder and chewing gum being blown into a bubble in her mouth.
The bubble popped, before disappearing back in as this new girl chewed and spoke.
"You must be new."
Mia bit the inside of her lip awkwardly. Did she really look that out of place already?
"How can you tell?" she asked, trying to make sure she did stand out quite so much for all the wrong reasons next time.
The girl gestured casually between the pile of bags and the driver. Further down the stretch of road, other drivers appeared to be doing the same thing.
"You didn't know to grab your duffel before the apes over there tossed it into the heap," she explained. "I would say that you need some serious help."
Well, it looked like she'd found herself a new friend already! And if she couldn't get the bag by herself, then a friend was exactly what she needed.
She offered this luggage saviour a small smile, "Thanks, it's the big pink one right in the middle, with the handles stuck out."
The other girl nodded, and they each moved forward to take a handle.
"Alright, on the count of three," the girl said. "One, two...three!"
They tried – and began – to pull.
But just as soon as it looked like it might start to shift, another shower of duffel bags rained down on the pile, and the driver turned back again, satisfied with a job well-done and whistling.
Both girls shot the man a dirty look, part of Amelia wishing her mother were there to scare this man into working carefully and minding others. C.C. had a way of terrifying people that Mia absolutely admired – she demanded efficiency, and if her employees failed to deliver, they knew they were in for her wrath.
"Well... I guess we are back to square one," huffed Amelia, folding her arms over her chest. "Do you reckon we can pull it out anytime soon?"
The girls shared a look and shook their heads.
"Nah," they said in unison.
Just then, when they were on the verge of giving up, both girls saw a strapping ten year-old in a tie-dye T-shirt, beads and a bandana around her head lumbering towards the pile of bags. She cracked her knuckles stuck her hand into the multicoloured heap of luggage, and easily pulled her duffel from the centre of the pile.
"Now that's my kind of woman," muttered Amelia, a small lopsided smirk beginning to peek from the corner of her lips.
"Agreed," said her new friend and cupped her hands around her mouth. "Hey!" she called to the bigger girl, "Tie-Dye girl! Her duffle bag is stuck in the pile. Mind giving us a hand?"
"Sure!" the girl replied, dropping her duffle and returning to the pile of luggage, "But for the record, my name is Nicole."
"Amelia, pleased to meet ya," said Mia, shaking hands with Nicole.
"Zoe," said the other girl, joining in the handshake.
"So, which one is yours?" Nicole asked, pointing at the heap of duffle bags.
"That one," Amelia pointed at the pink handles, barely visible under all the other bags.
Nicole nodded, and with enviable ease, she yanked Mia's duffel out of the pile and dropped it on Zoe's left foot.
"Agh!" cried the girl, moving her foot from beneath the luggage.
"Are you okay?" asked Mia.
"That would be a negative..." wheezed Zoe, "We gotta thank her, though..."
"Don't mention it," said Nicole.
However, before either Zoe or Mia could reply, Nicole's eye caught Amelia's name-tag – in neat calligraphy, it read:
"Amelia Babcock. No 63, E 75th Street, Upper East Side, New York"
"Hey! You're from New York?" she asked.
That caught Zoe's attention, and she snapped her head towards Mia, "You are?! Do you live near Broadway?!"
Nicole joined in, teasing lightly, "Yeah! Do you live next door to someone from some famous Broadway show?"
Mia shuffled a little awkwardly, "Well, kinda. My mom used to be a producer for those shows, but then she left to work for my grandpa's business firm. My Uncle Maxwell is still one, though – my mom handles all the money for his plays and stuff."
That was probably a more boring answer than the girls had expected, because they didn't ask about it more. They just looked at each other before Nicole asked another question.
"What about your dad? What does he do?"
There was silence at that. Mia tried opening and closing her mouth several times at first, but barely anything came out.
She didn't know her Daddy. She'd only ever had her Mom, and one picture of her Daddy that she'd found and been allowed to keep. She took it nearly everywhere with her, including on this trip. Her mother hadn't minded.
Perhaps realising that this had created tension, Zoe changed the subject.
"Well, you've got your bag now – do you know which bunk you're in yet?"
Mia shook her head, feeling grateful for the distraction.
"Let's go find out then!" Zoe said, helping Mia slung her duffle over her shoulder before putting an arm around her them and practically begging to frogmarch Amelia to the oldest counsellor, who was still going over the new arrivals.
"Do you guys know yours?" asked Amelia.
"Arapaho," said both girls.
"You are bunkies!" Amelia joked.
From the looks on their faces, Mia could tell that news was a recent development for them both. And neither one of them looked thrilled at the prospect.
They approached the camp counsellor, who noticed the new arrival amongst the two already sharing.
"What's your name?" she asked, already flicking through her list.
"Amelia Babcock."
The counsellor, Marva Sr according to her nametag, flipped back to the start of her list, and ticked her name off.
"Looks like you'll be in Arapaho, Amelia."
The same as Zoe and Nicole? That sounded great! And it certainly seemed to pick their spirits up – they were starting to grin, and out of the corner of Mia's eye, she thought she saw Nicole fist pump.
Happy about the arrangement, she exchanged high-fives with them and not long after they were directed down the path to their bunks, chatting all the way.
Mia had to ask, "So, either of you guys know how to play poker?"
Both Zoe and Nicole shook their heads.
Mia's face, on the other hand, lit up.
"No?" she said innocently, shifting the weight of her duffel bag to her other shoulder as they made their way to the cabin, "That's a shame. So, tell me, how much cash did you guys bring with you this summer...?"
