Nora was on a cloud when she came back from her day with the Schuyler sisters. It had been just what she needed. I texted them all and thanked them. A lot of the social media stuff had died down. I ended up putting out a statement on Twitter asking people to respect my daughter's privacy and that this was a private family matter. People were considerate for the most part, but I got a couple calls to do interviews. There was no way in hell I was doing that.
Fall Break was approaching for Nora, and while she was doing better I wondered if it might do her good to attend some group therapy sessions. After researching online, I found out about a place that did two-week group therapy sessions for kids who had lost parents. It was a bit pricey, but Nora's mental health was worth it. She'd been upset for a week or so after her mom died, but otherwise she seemed to keep it all in. She still had an aura of anger about her at times. The photo situation didn't help.
After we'd put the boys to bed, I called Nora over to my computer on the couch. I had the website pulled up.
"What do you think about this?" I asked her, tilting the laptop in her direction. She used the touchpad to look through the main page.
"Grief counseling?" She asked.
"Uh-huh," I confirmed. "It hasn't been that long since your mom passed. I thought it might be helpful."
"I don't want to go talk to a bunch of other kids about dead parents," she said. "That would be so depressing."
"But you don't know anyone else who's lost a parent," I pointed out. "It could be helpful to talk with kids who are in the same boat."
"It'll interfere with my pimping schedule," she told me, straight-faced.
I eyed her and then burst out laughing. "Child," I told her, shaking my head. I pulled the laptop back over. "I think you should do it. You don't talk to me much about it."
"I don't want to harp on it."
"But you need to grieve," I told her. "You can't just push it aside."
"So if I start to cry a little more, you won't make me go?" she asked. I gave her a look.
"Think about it," I told her, closing my laptop. "Don't you have homework to do?"
She rested her head on my shoulder. "Yeah."
I smirked and ruffled her hair. "You better get to it. It's almost 9:00."
I knew Nora was resistant to the idea of going to this camp, but I wondered if the Schuyler sisters might be able to help convince her. Or maybe even Jonathan Kirkland from Chicago. I called him up and we chatted for a while. Our new hires were knocking it out of the park.
"Nora really hit it off with you in Chicago," I told him. "She said you talked about your dad dying as a kid?"
"Yeah, we did," he said. "It seemed to help to talk about it with someone who'd gone through something similar."
"I agree," I said. "I found this camp upstate that's a grief counseling camp for kids whose parents have passed away. I think it would be good for her, but she doesn't seem interested."
"You want me to try talking to her?" he offered.
"That would be great if you could," I told him. "She'd listen to you more than she's listening to me."
"I'd be happy to," he said. "What's her number?"
I gave Jonathan her phone number and thanked him again. That night after dinner, Nora was doing homework in her bedroom. A little after 8:00, she came out to the living room, looking suspiciously at me.
"Why did Jonathan Kirkland just call me?" she asked.
"What? You don't want Jonathan Kirkland calling you?" I asked.
"No, it's just that he brought up the whole camp thing. You called him didn't you?" she accused.
"Maybe," I told her. "What did he say?"
"That he wished he could have gone to a camp like that when he was a kid," she said. "That's pretty low, Dad. Getting Kirkland to do your dirty work."
"Did it work?"
"Undecided," she said, going to the pantry for a snack.
"Nora, you might as well go," Vanessa urged her. "Otherwise you'll be bored for two weeks and you'll get into trouble."
"Why do you both assume I'd get into trouble?"
"Because we've met you," I quipped. I felt a pillow hit my head out of nowhere.
"You suck!" she shouted as she went back to her bedroom.
I wasn't below bribery. I offered to let her go on a boating trip a friend she'd been begging me about. I was concerned there would be boys, but I'd since found out there would be plenty of adults around. Nora knew what I was doing, and she weighed her options carefully.
The next morning, she grabbed some Cheerios from the pantry and sighed.
"Alright, I'll go," she said.
"To camp?" I asked hopefully.
"Yeah," she said. "As long as you promise not to lecture me about being responsible on the boating trip."
"Deal," I told her. I signed her up that morning and paid the deposit to secure her spot. There was paperwork for guardians to fill out before hand. Questions about her general demeanor, the situation around the death of the parent, etc. I filled it out thoroughly. Camp would start in a couple weeks.
As the date approached, I talked it up to her and her reception was lukewarm at best. The only reason she was going was because of the boat trip. The trip upstate would take a couple hours by car. The plan was to drive her up on a Sunday afternoon and pick her up two weeks later. Sunday morning, she began to pack her bag. I was surprised to see her tear up a little bit as she hugged Sebby and Cisco goodbye. She hugged Vanessa for a long time.
"This is gonna be great for you," she assured Nora as she wiped at her eyes. I picked up Nora's bag and we got into the car. On the car ride there, she was pretty quiet.
"Are you nervous?" I asked her as we cruised down the highway.
"A little," she admitted, looking out the window.
"You'll do great," I assured her. "I think you'll feel better."
She rested her head against the window and drifted off to sleep for a while. When we arrived at the camp, I checked her in and we went to her cabin. It had a certain rustic charm. It wasn't something city kids were used to. I could see Nora looking around, assessing her home for the next two weeks. I suggested we unpack some of her things, including a family photo, so it would feel a bit more homey. She picked a bed and I helped make it up. We put her clothes away in the drawers and tucked her suitcase under her bed.
Finally, she was settled in, and other kids started to arrive. No one seemed to know each other, so everyone was in the same boat. Nora stood off to the side, not stepping away from me. I sensed she didn't want me to leave. I don't think she'd ever been away from home for more than a couple nights. This would be huge. She was a teenger, but she was still a kid who had been through a lot.
I stuck around for another half hour or so, introducing myself to some other parents and chatting. Nora quietly spoke to a couple other girls her age. It seemed they had the cabins divided up by age group and sex. All the girls in this cabin were teenagers. They were transitioning to a group activity down by the lake, so I decided it was a good time to head out. The cabin cleared until it was just me and Nora.
"Alright, I'm gonna head home, kiddo," I told her. She wouldn't meet my eyes and I could tell she was trying not to cry. I pulled her into a hug, cradling her head in my hand. "You can cry if you need to."
"Daddy, I don't wanna stay," she cried into my shirt. She rarely called me Daddy. It only happened when she was really upset. I stroked her hair and took in a deep breath.
"Sweetheart, I know it's hard right now, but you can do this. You've been through so much. This is nothing."
"It is," her voice was trembling. "I don't like the other kids."
"You don't even know them yet," I reminded her, pulling back. I put my hands on her shoulders and squeezed, moving my head so I could look her in the eyes. "If you need to, you can call us every night. We can FaceTime."
"Come on, Nora!" one of the counselors called from outside the cabin. I put my hand on Nora's upper back and guided her towards the door. She reluctantly walked, arms crossed.
"Just do your best and try to have fun," I reminded her as we stopped on the doorstep.
"It's a grief camp. Is it supposed to be fun?"
"You'll do some fun stuff," I told her. "Some of it will be difficult, but they'll make sure you have fun."
She was frowning. I knew I couldn't let her drag this out any longer. I leaned forward and kissed her forehead.
"I love you," I told her. "Be good."
She called out that she loved me too and I walked away. I didn't look back, hoping she would turn her attention to her counselor and new campmates. The drive back was silent. I thought of her the whole time, hoping she was settling in and making a couple friends.