A Midsummer Night's Romp by Katie MacAlister Read Free Book Online

then dumped it on someone else. He’s always telling me that I have to own my problems. Oh, I know!”
    Her expression changed in a flash to one of jubilant triumph. “Gran can have your tent, because she’s old and my dad said she looks like she’d break into a million pieces if a big wind blew.”
    â€œCressida,” Salma objected.
    Cressy patted her grandmother on the arm. “He meant that nicely.”
    â€œI’m sure he did, but regardless—”
    â€œYou wouldn’t really mind if Gran had your tent, would you? I’ll move your stuff to our tent, and her stuff to yours, so no one will have to lift a finger. That way I won’t worry about Gran, and yet I’ll still have to suffer with our tent, so no one can say I’m taking advantage of you, right?”
    I hesitated for a few seconds, trying to think of a polite way to tell her that I’d prefer being on my own—it was very difficult being the instrument of justice if one had a seventeen-year-old stumbling over one’s plots and connivings.
    But at that moment, I looked at Cressy, and caught the hint of uncertainty in her eyes, a painful awareness that I all too well remembered from my own awkward teenage years. She was trying to put a brave face on it, but it was evident that if I refused, she’d take it as a personal comment about rooming with her, rather than my own desire to be alone.
    â€œThat sounds like a lovely idea, as long as you don’t mind sharing the tent with an old fuddy-duddy like me.”
    â€œCool!” she said, giving me a grin. “You’re not old at all, and if you fuddy-duddy, I’ll simply go bother Gran in her tent, and Gunner won’t be able to say boo about it, right?”
    â€œGunner?” I asked, confused.
    â€œHe’s my dad,” she said, tossing a cheerful smile over her shoulder before she dived into the collapsed tent and began hauling out their luggage. “He was a mistake like me.”
    â€œCressida,” Salma objected, giving me a little shake of the head. “Just because you have taken advantage of Miss . . . ?”
    â€œLiddell. But do please call me Lorina.”
    â€œSuch a pretty name. Just because you have taken advantage of Lorina’s generous nature does not mean you must blight her with irrelevant details of your life.”
    â€œShe’s a journalist, Gran. She lives for those sorts of things. Don’t you, Lorina?”
    â€œAbsolutely,” I said, ignoring the twinge of guilt at the fact that this innocent young woman had taken my lie to heart. “I love talking to people about their lives. But I’m also going to be very busy—”
    â€œSee?” Cressy threw herself under the wad of deflated tent, and emerged with two suitcases. “It’ll be just fine, Gran. Lorina’s cool, and I promise to not bother her, and Gunner can’t say I wasn’t being nice, and everyone is happy!”
    There are just some people that it’s very hard to get through to, and Cressy was clearly one of their crowd. So in the end I helped her transfer Salma’s belongings to my tent, and mine to the grass between the tents while we struggled to resurrect that structure. After an hour of swearing, sweating, and seeking assistance from two passing diggers, we finally got the tent resurrected, fortified by a judicious use of duct tape.
    â€œGood as new,” Cressy announced when I stood back with our two helpers to admire our handiwork. “Dibs the bed in the back. I know you’ll probably want the one nearest the door so you can go potty in the middle of the night.”
    â€œCressida!” Salma said on a horrified gasp.
    â€œWhat?” Cressy paused at the door, shooting her grandma a puzzled look. “I don’t see why you’re wearing that ‘Oh my god, I can’t believe what Cressida has said now’ face when I didn’t say