Nick Scipio
Risqué Management
Summer Camp Swingers: Christy Series Book 5
Contents
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 24
We didn’t have classes on Friday because of the Easter holiday, but all four of us spent the morning on schoolwork anyway. Trip had his own design project, although his was slightly different than mine. He was in his element with the details, though, so he didn’t need my help. Wren spread out a mass media communications project on the dining room table, while Christy headed to the A&A building to work on her maquette for the final piece of her Kanagawa series.
I spent all morning in my studio adding structural elements to my Japanese building, which needed several changes to accommodate the various mechanical systems. I felt like I was defacing a work of art, but it was a good reminder that my designs weren’t entirely art. They were functional buildings that needed mundane details like HVAC, water and sewer, and fire suppression. I had to admire Joska, though. By making us modify our own designs, he’d made his point in a way that was both subtle and memorable.
Christy came home a little before lunchtime, and the rest of us wrapped up our work as well. Wren threw together some amazing steak sandwiches and a grilled portobello one for Christy, and we relaxed around the kitchen table with the back door open and the breeze coming through the screen door.
“You have any special plans for this weekend?” I asked Wren.
She shrugged indifferently. “School.”
Trip shot me a smug look. He’d bought flowers, chocolates, and a couple of bottles of expensive champagne. He’d stashed them in the third-floor bathroom, where Wren hardly ever went. He also had reservations for Easter brunch at one of the nicest restaurants in town. He’d spared no expense, and Wren didn’t have a clue.
“Maybe you can take a bath and relax,” Christy said. “All work and no play makes Wren a dull girl.”
“Whatever,” she said.
Trip played along. “We’ll see. I have a ton of work this weekend too. It’s a good thing you all won’t be here to distract us.”
Translation: Thanks for leaving so I can wine and dine and de-stress my girlfriend.
“Glad we could help. And thanks for lunch,” I said to Wren. “It was delicious, as usual. Christy and I’ll do the dishes and clean up the kitchen before we go. How’s that?”
She attempted a smile. “Thanks.”
I picked up her plate and bent to kiss her cheek. “Christy’s right, get some rest this weekend. Blow off school and do nothing. Maybe go to the pool and work on your tan.”
“Wish I could,” she said.
I turned to Trip with faux resignation. “It’s up to you.”
“I’ll do my best.”
* * *
“Do I need to take a suit?” I asked Christy as I pulled our suitcase from under the bed. I grabbed the garment bag as well. “I thought I could go to Mass with you on Sunday. Maybe my light gray three-piece? With the pale lavender shirt with the white collar? And a purple tie?”
“I think you’d look very handsome,” she said, “but you’d be a bit overdressed.”
“I… don’t understand.”
“We don’t go to Mass on Easter.”
“Seriously? I thought it was one of the big holidays for Catholics.”
“I suppose it is, but not for us.”
“Why not?”
“My mother’s father died when she was ten, a few days before Easter. None of the people from church ever visited while he was sick and in the hospital, but everyone came up to her family at Easter to express their condolences. People who never saw her otherwise and didn’t even know that her father had been ill. They were just doing the polite thing because everyone expected it, not because they actually cared.”
Unfortunately, the world was full of people like that, and Catholics didn’t have a monopoly on that particular sin.
“Ever since then,” Christy continued, “my mother’s… ‘hated’ is too strong a word, because she doesn’t really hate anyone. But she definitely doesn’t have any love for ‘CEO Catholics,’ Christmas and Easter Only. We’re real Catholics, she says, the everyday-Sunday kind.”
I nodded gravely, but my respect for Anne went up a few notches. She refused to participate in a farce, even if it meant staying home on one of the holiest days of the year for her faith.
“We do sort of dress up on Easter, though,” Christy said. “Not a suit and tie, but maybe your cream-colored slacks with the pale green shirt. And the pretty blue sweater, the one I bought you.”
“Sounds good.”
“And speaking of dressing up,” Christy said with a coy look, “I think I’ll take my school uniform. Brooke should still have hers. Sometimes we did it in our uniforms, after school. I never really thought about it at the time, but I guess it was our way to rebel against Sister Prune.”
I didn’t need much imagination to picture the two of them going down on each other in their plaid skirts and white blouses. Christy grinned and leveled a pointed look at the sudden bulge in my shorts.
“Hey, can you blame me?”
“No,” she laughed, “not really.” Then she glanced at the clock. “Do we have time…?”
“Are you kidding? I’ll make time.”
* * *
We arrived at the airport with barely twenty minutes to spare. Christy seemed unconcerned and even a little proud of herself, while I felt semi-panicky, like the plane might leave without us. Christy’s parents had paid for our tickets, though, so we could check in almost any time before departure. Still, old habits die hard.
The first two legs of our flight went smoothly. Christy and I chatted about school and projects and everyday things. Then we had a forty-five minute stop in Las Vegas, where she peered out the plane’s window and gazed at the lights of the airport.
“I thought we’d be able to see the casinos,” she said. “They’re right there.”
“You can’t really see anything from an airport.”
“I know, but still…” She turned away and shrugged. “I want to come back here with you sometime.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. My dad and brothers used to tease me and say they were going to take me to Vegas when I was old enough.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m so lucky. I don’t think I am, but they do. I used to win board games and cards all the time. They stopped playing with me. They won’t let me play Florida with them at all.” She shrugged. “I don’t really do anything, though. Good things just happen to me.”
“That’s sort of what luck is,” I chuckled.
“Well, all I know is that I’m lucky to have you. The rest are things I can’t control.”
“If you say so.” I grinned to show that I was teasing, but I had to admit that her father and brothers might have a point. She usually came out smelling like a rose any time something bad happened to her. Oh, she’d had her share of disappointments and losses, but she’d led a charmed life in many ways.
The flight from Las Vegas to San Diego was short and uneventful, and we arrived a little before midnight. We emerged from the jetway to find Brooke waiting with Christy’s parents. The two girls ran to greet each other. Harold shook my hand and Anne gave me a hug.
“Thanks for picking us up,” I told them. “I know it’s way past your normal bedtime.”
Harold snorted. “I haven’t had a ‘bedtime’ since I wore short pants.”
“You know what he means, dear,” Anne said.
“I suppose.”
“Anyway, thanks for picking us up.” I nodded toward Brooke and Christy. “And thanks for bringing Brooke. She and Christy have really missed each other lately.”
Anne’s smile was polite, while Harold’s was self-satisfied.
He explained, “She called earlier to ask if she could come with us. We invited her to spend the night, too.”