Best Laid Plans: A Summer Camp Swingers Novel

Chapter 1

Being a grown-up is a lot of work. My life since the first of the year had been full of classes, projects, homework, and studying. The days changed but the amount of work never did. My free time never lived up to its name, either. I had dozens of ways to fill it, and the weekends were worse. Christy and I managed a few ski trips, but I still seemed to be busy all the time, so I was looking forward to spring break and a well-deserved vacation.

I finished my last exam and straightened the papers on my desk. Then I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and did absolutely nothing. It felt good to relax and clear my mind, if only for a few minutes. But eventually I had to get going, so I slung my backpack over my shoulder and turned in the exam. I’d probably never see the professor again, but I told her I’d enjoyed the course. She thanked me and said to enjoy my break.

I walked outside and turned my face to the sun to soak up the warmth. The weather had been beautiful for the past week, which had made it hard to focus and study. The mornings were still cold, but the afternoons were balmy and clear. I rolled up my sleeves and strolled toward home.

The house was empty when I arrived. I’d taken Christy to the airport the day before, and Trip and Wren had gone that morning, before I’d left for my exam. They were headed to Florida for a week in her family’s condo on the beach. Christy and I had originally been supposed to fly down with them, but our plans had changed at the last minute. Instead, she’d flown to San Diego to see her best friend from high school, Brooke, while I was going to my parents’ house for a few days before I flew out to join her.

I still had a three-hour drive ahead of me, though, and needed to get moving if I didn’t want to hit Atlanta’s notorious rush hour traffic. It wasn’t Los Angeles, but it was bad enough. So I packed a suitcase and backpack, threw everything in the car, and hit the road.

I made it to my parents’ house without too much hassle. Inside, I dropped my things in the kitchen and ventured into the living room.

“Hi, I’m home! Mom? Dad? Erin?”

“I’m on the phone,” my mom called from the back.

I glanced into my old bedroom, now Erin’s. I’d given it to her for Christmas, and she’d made it her own with posters, awards, and other knickknacks. She was a bit of a neat freak, like me, but the room was unusually clean. I stuck my head into her old room next. Mom had turned it into a combination office and craft room. It was less tidy but just as empty. Finally, I reached the master bedroom at the end of the hall. My mother was sitting cross-legged on the bed. She was talking on the phone, although she smiled and waved hello when she saw me.

“Paul just got home,” she said into the cordless handset, “so I’d better go. Okay, I’ll tell him. I love you too. Have a nice dinner with the crew. Call me in the morning. Bye.” She pushed the button to hang up and collapsed the antenna. “Sorry about that,” she said. “Your dad had a reverse seniority trip, so he’s in Fort Wayne tonight. Shreveport tomorrow night.”

“Oh. That sucks. I mean, good for him and all, but I was looking forward to seeing him.”

“He’ll be home Friday. What time’re you leaving Saturday?”

“Nine in the morning. My flight leaves a little before eleven.” I could fly standby for free—a perk of being a pilot’s kid—but I tried to avoid stops and layovers, where I might get bumped by a paying passenger. I also had a dress code and code of conduct, so it wasn’t as carefree as most people thought.

Mom’s face fell, but she knew the realities of flying standby as well as I did.

“Sorry,” I said. “If I leave later I’ll have a couple of stops or a four-hour layover in Dallas. Not the worst place to spend a few hours, but still a thousand miles from anywhere I want to be.”

“I understand.”

I nodded toward the front of the house. “Where’s Erin? I thought she was staying home for spring break. Her car’s in the driveway, but she isn’t here.”

“She’s in Florida with Leah and friends.”

“Oh? She decide to spend some money after all?”

“No, your dad and I paid for it. She’s doing well in school and we’ve been getting along better, so…”

My eyebrows rose.

“We thought she deserved a vacation. It’s her senior year. She’s actually turning into a responsible adult. What can I say?” she added with a shrug. “Maybe we raised her right after all.”

“Yeah, after you made all those mistakes with me!” I laughed.

Mom rolled her eyes and stood. She wore a simple V-neck sweater and jeans, although she made them seem comfortable and attractive at the same time. She wasn’t a Playmate or anything, but she didn’t look forty-two either. And I privately admitted that she might’ve been the reason I was dating a blue-eyed blonde myself. Christy wasn’t a carbon copy, but they had enough in common to make me wonder about the old cliché that men marry women like their mothers.

“It’s great to see you,” she said as we hugged. Then she held me at arm’s length.

I couldn’t help but notice that her nipples were hard. They cast little shadows in the soft light from above, but I tried to ignore them.

“You look good,” she said.

“Thanks. You too.”

“You aren’t eating enough, though. Christy still doesn’t cook?”

“Don’t start, Mom. She cooks. Just not very often. Besides, we live with a semi-professional chef, so Wren does most of the cooking in the house.”

“Yes, but you do it when it’s Christy’s and your turn.”

“We do it together. I just do the planning. She’s a really good cook, Mom, I promise. And I’m eating enough. Too much, if you ask me, since I’m always making snacks for her, and I usually end up eating too.” Her metabolism was twice a normal person’s, and she had to eat five or six times a day or she’d lose weight. She struggled to maintain even a hundred pounds, so losing weight was officially a Bad Thing for her.

“But if it’ll make you happy,” I continued, “I’ll eat a snack. I skipped lunch anyway. I was trying to get here before rush hour.”

“We have milk and cookies.” She grinned and headed toward the kitchen.

I discreetly admired her figure as I followed her. My friends in high school had thought she was hot, and I had to agree with them. I smiled to myself at how they would’ve reacted if they’d known she was a nudist and swinger too. I hadn’t known about the latter until I was fifteen, but I’d had a thorough education since then.

“The cookies are in the pantry,” she said. “I’ll pour the milk.”

“Whoa, hold on. Cookies and milk? I didn’t think you were serious. Mom, I’m not in kindergarten.”

“Neither am I, but I like them. I can’t eat them very often, but I thought since you’re here…” She shrugged when I didn’t take the bait. “That’s all right. It’s getting harder to keep weight off anyway. I even bought one of those aerobics workout tapes.”

“Not Jane Fonda,” I said immediately.

“Are you kidding? Your father would divorce me!”

Anything to do with Jane Fonda had been banned from our house since 1972, the year she’d gone on her “aid and comfort” tour of North Vietnam. She’d taken chummy pictures with an antiaircraft gun crew, the same nice folks who’d done their best to kill men like my father and who’d succeeded with many of his friends. I was nine years old at the time and vividly remembered his cold fury. He wouldn’t divorce my mom for real, especially over something as trivial as a workout video, but “Hanoi Jane” was still persona non grata with us.

I changed the subject. “How ’bout an apple instead? Do we have any peanut butter?”

“Are you still on a health kick? Is that Christy’s idea?”

“Mom! Relax about her. I’m just trying to eat healthier.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m fixated about her.” She opened the pantry and scanned it. “How about graham crackers and peanut butter?”

“Perfect!”

We made our snack in silence and then I took the plates to the kitchen table. Mom poured two glasses of milk and brought them as well.

“Not quite milk and cookies,” I said, “but close enough.”

“And much better for my figure.”

I rolled my eyes. “Your figure looks fine, Mom. Better than fine.”

“Your dad teases me sometimes, says I’m getting pudgy. I know he’s kidding, but still…”

“Don’t worry, you’re still a hot mom.”

Her eyebrows went up.

“That’s what all my friends used to call you.”

“Used to,” she echoed.

“Nonsense. My friends now think you’re hot.”

“And you? What do you think?”

“Are you kidding?” I said in surprise. I couldn’t tell her what I really thought—that I sometimes fantasized about her when I jerked off—but I said, “You’re the most beautiful mom in the world. I hope I’m half as lucky as Dad when I’m his age.”

“Now you’re just trying to flatter me.”

“Duh. But you asked for it. Still, I’m serious.”

“Thank you, honey.”

“What got you thinking about your looks?”

“I realized last week that we’re going to have an empty nest soon. My mother said she’d never felt old until the day I moved out. And now I’m about to face the same thing.”

“I thought you liked having your own space and time to do what you want.”

“The grass is always greener,” she said. “Besides, I get lonely sometimes without you and Erin here.”

“Well, I’m here now, so you aren’t lonely.”

She smiled and shifted gears. “Which reminds me… I hope you don’t mind, but it’s supposed to be sunny and warm tomorrow. Do you think you could help me in the yard?”

“Of course! I didn’t pack any work clothes, though. Only running clothes and everyday stuff.”

“Your dad probably has something you can borrow.”

“Cool. I figured. Thanks.”

“And… um… one other thing. Your bathroom is full of houseplants. Sorry.”

I laughed, more amused than annoyed.

“I’m in the middle of repotting them. I thought I’d have them done before you got home, but then your dad had this trip come up. So I… sort of forgot.”

“It’s okay.”

“You can still use the toilet and sink, but the tub is full, so you’ll have to shower in the master bathroom.”

“That’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Besides, your shower’s bigger, so I’ll have more room.”

She laughed. “In case you want to dance?”

“Exactly!”

She smiled and rolled her eyes. Then she gathered our dishes and took them to the sink. “Anything special you want to do tonight?”

“I dunno. Read? Watch TV? I don’t really care. As long as I don’t have to build a model or do a project write-up, I’m cool with just about anything.”

“No models, no write-ups,” she agreed with a smile. “I promise.”