Kate & Kylie - Part 3

 Good morning.

I'm going to keep this part short because I'm still trying to catch up on emails and camp stuff. You see, one of my nephews ended up with appendicitis, and my sis and I took the other 7 kids home from church on Wednesday, spent the night and all day yesterday over there. Thankfully Buddy was able to come home last evening, and Sis & I came home too.

On the writing front my tent at camp was "accidentally" challenged to write 50k words OVER our tent goal. Well, as of yesterday we were 61k over it. And camp isn't even over yet. ;) We'll see if we reach 100k. And we have reached our Active Camp Goal! There's been a lot of writing going on.

We got some rain yesterday. Not much, but some. And it was much cooler. I think it probably reached 90º but it didn't feel nearly as hot as it usually does. I guess that means we were getting used to the triple digit temperatures?

Here's the next part of Kate & Kylie. Enjoy!

 

*

    The little pizza restaurant was loud, and crowded with hungry, excited to be back to civilization, teens. Tables had been pushed together in several places as the laughing, chattering youth found seats with friends. The talk was about the trip, the coming school term, and jobs.
    Kylie paused and glanced around. She could join any of the noisy tables, but after a week of playing chaperone, she was ready for some quiet. And peace.
    Spying an empty booth across the room, she wove her way around tables and kids and sat down with a sigh. It was good to sit in a soft seat with the prospect of eating food that wasn’t cooked over a fire.
    “Can I get you a drink?” one of the waitresses asked, stopping by the booth.
    “Please. Just water with lemon. And thank you.”
    As the waitress left, someone else approached the table. “Is this seat taken?”
    Kylie looked up. Mitch Standish stood beside the booth looking hopeful. With a motion of her hand, Kylie said, “Help yourself, unless you want to sit with that rowdy bunch.” Mitch had been one of the chaperones on the trip, but Kylie hadn’t spent much time talking with him.
    “Thanks, but I’d rather have some sane conversation right now.” He sat down across from her and leaned back in his seat. “You wouldn’t believe some of the conversations those kids have!”
    Kylie grinned. “Actually, I probably would. I had some crazy ones too.” The waitress returned with her drink, and after thanking her, Kylie squeezed one of the lemons into her water and then picked up a second slice and proceeded to eat it.
    “How–” Mitch stared at her. “Those things are sour!” He leaned forward, arms crossed on the table. “I can’t believe you can just eat it like that! You’re not even puckering!”
    The waitress returned with Mitch’s drink and took their pizza order before Kylie bothered to reply.
    “My dad gave my sister and me lemons when we were toddlers. I loved ‘em. My twin hated ‘em.” She shrugged. “So much for twins liking the same things.”
    “Well, you are the first person I’ve met who actually eats lemon slices. Do you peel them and eat them too? Like oranges?”
    At that, Kylie began to laugh. “No. But I do keep a lemon in the kitchen for when I get the urge to eat a slice. Sure you don’t want the last one?” She offered the plate.
    Mitch held up his hands. “Positive. I’m not a lemon sort of guy.”
    “Not even lemon cake or lemonade?”
    “Well, I’ll make an exception for those; they have sugar to sweeten them up. But straight lemons? Huh-uh.”
    With a grin, Kylie picked up the last lemon slice, but before it reached her mouth, there was a loud pop, a thump, a scream, and something hard smacked her in the side of the head.
    Dropping the lemon, her hands went instinctively to her head where a throbbing headache had begun to beat. What had just happened? She closed her eyes and fought the pain.
    A stunned silence fell over the entire restaurant.
    “Kylie!”
    Biting her lip, Kylie heard Mitch’s voice, but she wasn’t sure she could answer without crying.
    “Kylie, let me see how bad it is.” His hands gently moved hers, and his fingers probed her head. “I need ice.”
    “Don’t have any,” she mumbled.
    Mitch’s voice held a smile in it. “I wasn’t talking to you. You’ve got a serious knot on your head. Did you black out at all? Lose consciousness?”
    Kylie started to shake her head, but the slightest movement sent more pain radiating through her skull. “I don’t think so. What hit me?”
    “Here’s the ice. Let us know if you need more.” The voice was worried. Something cold was pressed to her head, and though the pressure wasn’t pleasant, the cold brought a slight ease to the pain. “Do we need to call 9-1-1?”
    Before Kylie could say no, she heard Mitch answer.
    “Thanks, I don’t think so, but I haven’t checked for a concussion yet. I’m almost a doctor and will keep an eye on her and can call if we need an ambulance.”
    “Don’t need one,” Kylie mumbled, still keeping her eyes closed and gripping her hands as they rested in her lap. “What hit me?”
    “A potato. Thank God it hit something else first and then ricocheted into you, otherwise–” He let his sentence die and adjusted the ice. “Can you hold this? I want to make sure you don’t have a concussion.”
    “How did a potato–” she whispered, reaching up and letting him guide her hand to the cold bag of ice.
    “Not sure yet. Can you open your eyes and look at me?”
    After a little blinking, Kylie stared across at Mitch as he moved a small pen light back and forth in front of her eyes. For the first time she noticed his hair was about the color of her great aunt’s dresser in the front room–a dark walnut brown. But his eyes were lighter. They were more like caramel, no perhaps honey.
    “Well, I think you do have a concussion,” Mitch said, turning off his light and putting it back in his pocket, “but it’s slight, and I imagine you have a whale of a headache. Do you still feel like eating? I’ll get you some Tylenol for the headache.”
    For a moment Kylie wavered. The pain in her head was bad, but she knew she needed to eat or she’d have a headache from not eating. Besides, she didn’t want to worry the kids. “I’ll eat. But Tylenol would be nice.”
    Mitch rose and said in low tones, “Don’t get up. I’ll get it from the first-aid box. And I’m going to find out where that potato came from.” His last words were low and slightly stern.
    The moment Mitch disappeared, several of the girls from Kylie’s group rushed over. 

Have you had rain?

How was your week?

Did you enjoy this part of the story?