Free to Love by Sydell Voeller Page B

true for many of the volunteers.”
    “But what about the Boy Scout camp?” Austin countered. “Joanna worked especially hard to solicit their help. It’d really be a shame to let those kids down.”
    “Oh, wow.” Ted’s faced paled. “I forgot about that. Maybe I could call my wife or—”
    “No, don’t bother,” Austin cut him off. “I’ll go round up the food. You man the registration table.” His mind raced as he scanned the picnic shelter. “I see there are built-in barbecues,” he said, “but we’ll need several bags of charcoal. Is there a store close by? I’ll buy a couple dozen packages of hot dogs and a ton of potato salad and soda pop and—”
    Before Ted could answer, the sound of an approaching van interrupted their conversation. Behind it droned a smaller van, followed by a meandering string of other vehicles. In seconds, doors were slamming, kids were running towards them, shrieking with laughter.
    “The Boy Scouts! Not already!” Austin let out a low moan.
    Ted chuckled. “It looks as if we underestimated. Forget the couple dozen packages of hot dogs, pal. You’d better get a couple hundred.”
    ***

     
    Three hours later, the aroma of sizzling frankfurters wafted on the early afternoon breeze as boys of all ages waited eagerly off to the side, paper plates in hand, while others sat eating at picnic tables. The din of their conversation was punctuated with bursts of laughter. Meanwhile, other volunteers had begun to filter inside the picnic shelter, some in couples, and others in small groups. Obviously the washed-out highway hadn’t deterred everyone.
    “You saved the day,” Ted Ashelman muttered under his breath. The men stood hunkered over two barbecues, waiting for the next round of hot dogs to finish cooking. Joe Oretega, district Scout coordinator, had also pitched in and was dishing out potato salad and chips, while his wife, Clara, passed out the buns and soft drinks.
    “No, you did, Ashelman,” Austin tossed back modestly, though the look on his face reflected his own sense of relief. “You stayed here alone and got these kids all registered and organized while all I had to do was go shopping. If you asked me, I got the easy end of that deal.”
    “Don’t try to fool me. You were sweating bullets there for awhile, and you know it.” Ted’s mouth quirked in a smile. “Matter of fact, I guess we both were. But what the heck? We pulled it off anyway.”
    “And judging from the volunteers’ comments on their data cards,” Austin pointed out, “plus the number of filled bags we put in the parking lot dumpster, the event was a huge success.”
    Austin eyed the wieners, roasted and bubbling, then called. “Come and get ‘em, everyone! Line forms to the right. I’m getting pretty good at the cooking bit,” he added to Ted, then laughed. “But don’t tell that to Joanna. She might not approve of hot dogs.”
    “I hope you hung onto your grocery receipts,” Ted said as a swarm of boys rushed back for seconds. “The Lions Club will want to reimburse you.”
    “No big hurry.”
    “Oh? You playing hero or what? I thought you said it won’t be long till you’re out of here.” Ted slanted him a questioning look as he plopped two wieners on the first boy’s plate.
    Austin shrugged with forced indifference. “That’s what I’d like, but that’s not necessarily what I’ll get. It all depends on the roof and how quickly Jo recovers, don’t forget.”
    Yet do I really want to leave? Wouldn’t a few more weeks with Joanna be just as good as a fishing trip? Maybe even better?

     
      ***

     
    “Don’t worry, Aunt Marcella. I’ll be up and running in no time—tomorrow morning at the latest.” That afternoon, Joanna sat propped up in bed, her cell phone pressed to her ear. “Austin was just overreacting when he insisted I stay home from the beach clean, but I somehow let him talk me into it.” She coughed, then continued.
    “So how are you? Did you lose