Free Camptown Ladies by Mari SanGiovanni Page B

down to nothing, the last few times with me doing the calling. Erica had been all business over the phone, except for Erica always getting in one cold comment about Lorn, “Dump her before she makes a fool out of you.”
    “Too late,” I would say, and she had been right.
    Erica hopped out of the truck, her hair stylishly pulled back from her face by the expensive sunglasses perched on her head. Erica was dwarfed by the doublewide truck, making her look nothing like the mighty woman I knew she was. In strength, her personality was the level of my sister, though her barbed comments were a bit more tasteful than Lisa.
    I could see by her hands-on-hips pose she was already accessing the structure of the Camp Store and the tired rec hall with the oddly sparkling cement floor. She dropped her hands from her hips when she spotted me.
    “Hey,” I said.
    Erica just stared at me, as if I were a stranger.
    “What’s wrong?” I asked, scanning for meatball on my shirt.
    “Italian’s aren’t supposed to be thin,” she said, disapprovingly.
    “I’m still fatter than you, and I just had a meatball sandwich,” I said.
    “Well, you look terrible.”
    Her concern flustered me a bit.
    “Well, you look great, as usual, bitch.” I said, and she did.
    Erica was a gorgeous woman. It was no wonder Vince had fallen for her the first day they met, right after she’d insulted his shirt (and deservedly so). Done deal; he was hooked. I remember thinking back then: Who wouldn’t be, poor bastard. I always expected to see a trail of men following behind her like ducklings, and my brother expected this, too. Lisa had warned me back then, “Vince aimed too high this time.” When I reached Erica, she surprised me with an awkward hug.
    Erica would have shocked me less if she had struck me across the face with the back of her hand. (Which I had seen her do to a worker after he made a suggestive comment about her flawless body. He had been holding a bucket of nails and the contact of her hand across his face sent the bucket flying across the room. She let him apologize for an hour before firing him.) Clearly, Erica had been in pain over this breakup and I felt this in her quick hug, which felt more like a quick body slap, and also in the way she yanked her sunglasses down over her eyes when she parted from me.
    Seeing Erica this fragile was not something I had ever considered. Her hug had made me catch my breath and my eyes sting at the corners, threatening unexpected tears. I was reminded of when I returned from college to find that my childhood dog, a regal female Doberman, had gone from a bounding ball of energy, to a fragile old dog, seemingly overnight. When I knelt in front of her, she tried to rear up on her shaking legs. I had cried when I finally hugged her, her third attempt finally landing her paws on my shoulders. We’d done this since she was a puppy and to see a sign of frailty in one of the strongest beasts I had ever known was one of the saddest moments I ever felt. Erica would not have appreciated me comparing her to my Doberman, but there it was.
    “You don’t hug,” I said.
    “Let’s never speak of this again,” she said, flashing a forced version of the smile that had sent my brother over the moon.
    “I’m glad you’re here,” I said, launching into business mode, since I knew this was what she’d want. “If you’ve already eaten, I can give you a tour of all the buildings, such as they are, so you can assess the crew size you’ll need.”
    “Sounds like a plan.” I could hear the relief in her voice. “The guys know what to do here.” They were already unloading gear. “Jesus,” she said, looking around. “It’s so much worse than she said.”
    “I told Lisa you required full control of the budget, and that you’ll quit if she questions you regarding spending.”
    “Aww, you remember. And she caved without a fight?”
    “I vouched for your ability to beat up vendors for the best prices,” I