The One That I Want by Marilyn Brant

Author:Marilyn Brant [Brant, Marilyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Goodreads: 25649961
Publisher: Twelfth Night Publishing
Published: 2014-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Change was a funny thing.

As soon as I saw my daughter, I realized that a lot could happen that might significantly alter a person in a relatively short period of time. This was especially true if the person in question wanted, on some deep level, to change.

Analise had wanted to change. To get over her depression. To stop grieving quite so much. I knew she’d prayed for the pain to lessen. Kept her fingers crossed for it. Wished on shooting stars, fallen eyelashes, and birthday candles. And, after just two weeks at Camp Willowgreen, I could tell she was getting closer to having her wish granted.

I knew this time away wasn’t long enough to heal the past, but it was, perhaps, long enough to show her that a bad spell could be broken, even for a short while. It was long enough to create hope.

And while I also knew that her new sparkle of happiness would have been immediately apparent to any adult who’d known her over this past and very difficult year, I sensed it wasn’t quite apparent to her yet.

“Mommy!” she squealed when I walked into the camp’s giant rec room. She threw her tanned arms around my body and squeezed.

I enfolded myself around her. She was too big to cradle in my arms anymore, but a part of me kept wanting to try.

“Oh, my sweet girl. I think you’ve grown an inch at least since I last saw you. And you’re so tan! You must have been spending hours out in the sun.”

She nodded. “I’m not as tan as some of the other girls, but Ms. Watkins, the camp director, makes us put on sunscreen every single day—morning and afternoon.”

“Your dermatologist will love Ms. Watkins for that later.”

“My derma-what?”

“Never mind,” I said, unable to stop hugging her. “Just tell me what we get to do together today.”

“Okay,” she replied, her eyes bright.

She produced a folded sheet of orange-colored paper from her back shorts pocket with the words PARENTS’ DAY: 10AM - 3PM bolded and in all caps across the top. “First thing, I get to show you our cabin and how we decorated it. Then,” she read from the sheet, “is a visit to the art studio, so you can see my projects. Then there are games by the lake. Then it’s finally lunch!” She paused to take a breath and I laughed.

“Do you know what they’re serving?” I asked.

“Yes. It’s Sunday, so we’ll get cheesy pizza burgers, which are really good here. Tater tots. Milk. A salad, I think. And chocolate pudding.”

“That sounds delicious,” I told her, but the truth was that I’d happily sit through a meal of roasted crickets and dried celery sticks if it meant I’d get to spend that precious hour with my daughter.

“Yeah,” Analise said. “But then there’s the afternoon skit, which is gonna be bad, but after that it’ll be time for the awards cerem—”

“Why will the skit be bad?”

She shrugged. “There’s this boy in our group—Justin—and he’s really bossy.

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