On that Friday, after the kids had all gone home, Harold found me. Looking around conspiratorially, he told me about a party planned for late that night at the pool. There was going to be booze and everybody was going to go skinny-dipping.
"Bill will shit if he gets wind of this," I warned him.
"That's why we're keeping it quiet. I heard Bill is going home this weekend. So how about it? Are you and Patrice coming?"
"I don't know if she'd go for a party that wild but I'll ask and let you know."
"Cool. I'll check with you later," he said, and took off.
I found Patrice carrying sheets to the laundry. She greeted me with a big smile and I took her bundle from her.
"Want to go to a party tonight?" I asked.
"Sure. Where?"
"At the pool after dark," I told her. "There will be lots of alcohol, and we'll all go swimming by moonlight."
"That sounds like fun," she said as we reached the Quonset hut that served as the camp laundry.
"What sounds like fun?" Abby asked. She was coming out as we walked in.
"A party," Patrice said.
"Uh, it's a secret, uh, from the
administration
," I hedged. I hadn't meant for Abby to hear about it.
"Why?" Patrice asked. "They know we drink on the weekends."
I blushed as I pulled the girls aside, away from the door in case someone else passed by.
"We're going to go skinny-dipping in the pool tonight," I whispered.
"Really?" Patrice said, surprised but with a sly smile on her face. She put her hand on my cheek. "Sounds like fun." Then, looking at Abby, the smile disappeared as she continued, "but maybe not tonight."
"Why not? It sounds like fun. What time does it start?" Abby asked.
Both of our mouths dropped open.
"Abby, I mean we're not going to be wearing bathing suits. Nobody is," I told her.
"I understood that. What time?" she asked, smiling broadly.
"Abby?" Patrice whispered.
"Look, Trip left me and I think it was because I wasn't adventurous enough. If I'm going to change, I need to do something wild. I'm going. Are you?"
I just kept looking from one to the other of them, still holding the bundle of sheets. Patrice looked at me and grinned.
"I guess we are. What time, Tim?"
I shook my head in disbelief.
I ran into Harold later and told him we were coming. All
three
of us.
"Three? You, Patrice and who?" Then he thought a moment and, with a look of surprise on his face, "Not Miss Goody Two Shoes?"
"Her name is Abby, Harold, and yes, she's coming."
"Does she know what
skinny-dipping
means?"
"Yes, she does. Just have lots of wine coolers. The girls like those more than beer."
I gave him some money to help pay for the booze and told him we'd be there about a half hour after dark.
Those of us who were planning to attend the party ate at the dining hall. Harold and a few other guys had hauled in a few ice chests of drinks. Bill had left earlier in the afternoon as expected. We did blowouts like this every year—and it was always fun—but they were done in secrecy and attended by a small group of counselors. Doing it at the pool this year was different. Skinny-dipping was a first.
I was hanging around with the girls, helping them finish a few tasks in their bunkhouse, and waiting for the time to go to the party.
"Are you sure about this, Abby?" I asked.
"Yes, I'm sure. I need a chance to get wild and unwind."
Patrice and I exchanged raised eyebrows.
"I can be wild," Abby said, but her tone seemed to be a question more so than a statement.
I looked at my watch.
"Okay, time to go," I announced.
Taking Patrice by the hand, we started out. Abby came around the other side and linked her arm in mine. The three of us marched across the camp. I did notice that Abby's grip on my arm tightened a little as we got closer to the pool.
From a distance, the pool looked like nothing much was going on. There were a few small lights on and the gate was open. The chain and padlock hung from the fence. As we approached, the background sound of the crickets was pierced by the soft murmurs of conversation. Two ice chests were beside the pool. Six couples were sitting on the side of the pool, still wearing shorts and shirts, and dangling their legs in the water.
"See. I
tol
d you," Harold said to the others as he saw us coming in. His speech was slightly slurred like someone who had already had a few beers since dinner.
"Hi, everybody," Abby said, erasing any doubt that it was really her.
It was pretty dark around the pool. I got a beer and handed the girls each a wine cooler. A few of the others were staring at Abby.
She kicked off her shoes, sat down, and saw that she was the center of attention—a quiet and stunned attention.
"What?" she asked.