“Meg!” A man I recognized as a longtime SPOOR member raced up to my window. He was wearing an orange safety vest, a hard hat, and an armband with the word STAFF printed on it. I rolled my window down.
“I see we’re not quite the first,” I said.
“Oh, no!” he said. “Some of us have been here since dawn! Your grandfather is saving a spot for your tent near his.”
Since I wasn’t sure how restful it would be, camping near Grandfather, I was about to protest that we didn’t want any special treatment, but—
“See the mess tent? The big tent just to the left of that first port-a-pottie? Your spot’s right behind it.”
After a moment of consideration, I decided that proximity to the food and bathrooms was worth being near the noise and drama that always accompanied Grandfather, so I thanked the volunteer and drove on toward where Grandfather’s familiar battered Airstream was parked in a nice shady spot, midway between the mess tent and the area where a truck was delivering more port-a-potties, along with a shower trailer and a huge water tank.
The tents and trailers belonging to Grandfather’s staff, including the film crew, were clustered together to the left of the Airstream. I headed for the area at the right, where I recognized Dad’s tent, with Tinkerbell, Rob’s Irish Wolfhound, lying in front as if on guard. Inside I could see that Dad had begun setting up his equipment so the tent could double as a field medical station. Nearby was a space with a hand-lettered sign in the middle of it proclaiming THIS SPOT RESERVED FOR THE WATERSTON FAMILY.
“We’re here,” I said.
“Give your hand a rest,” Michael said. “The boys and Natalie can help me set up our tent.”
“Good idea.” I could imagine how much help the boys would be but managed to keep a straight face. “Then I’ll go over to see how Annabel’s taking the invasion.”
I hopped out and came around to the passenger side to haul out the dog crate containing Spike. I’d have preferred leaving him at home, but the boys insisted, and it turned out everyone who’d be willing to feed and walk him was coming on the expedition anyway.
“Meg! Michael! Welcome!”
Dad and several of his fellow SPOOR members bounced up to greet us and quickly began helping to unload the van.
“Mommy! Playhouse!”
Jamie was tugging at the hem of my shirt. I looked up and saw that Josh was trying to drag Natalie over to a nearby vehicle that looked like an old-fashioned gypsy caravan, straight out of a movie.
It was set on tall wheels and towered over the drab tents and cars nearby. Every inch of its surface was painted or decorated with gilded carvings. Painted lions and tigers stalked along the sides, while cranes and flamingos flanked the windows and a peacock with tail outspread graced the door.
“Mommy! Go see!” Jamie whined.
“Let’s make sure whoever owns the caravan wants company,” I said. I turned Jamie over to Natalie and walked up to the caravan. I noticed that while it had the shafts you’d use to hitch a horse up to it, it also had a contraption to allow the caravan to be towed behind a car if needed.
The two shutters that formed the top half of the door flew open, narrowly missing me, and my old friend Caroline Willner peered out.
“Meg! Welcome! How do you like my new toy?” she crowed. “Isn’t it splendid?”
“I love it,” I said. “And the boys are dying to come inside.”
“Bring them in!”
I beckoned to Natalie and the boys, who raced over. Within minutes, the boys were bouncing on the built-in divan at the back of the wagon. It probably served as Caroline’s bed at night, but now it was piled high with brightly covered scarves and pillows and had a small table in front of it that held a plate of fruit and cheese.
“Do you mind if I leave Natalie and the boys with you for a bit?” I said. “I want to check in with our hostess.”
“I thought this was Monty’s shindig,” Caroline said.
“The lady who’s letting us camp in her field,” I elaborated. “I’m not sure she realized quite what an army Grandfather would be bringing.”
“Never does anything quietly, your grandfather,” she said. “They’re fine here, and if I get tired I can tell your niece to drag them away. Come back later, and I’ll give you the tour. You’d be amazed how much hidden storage my carpenter managed to fit into this thing,” she added, as she followed me to the door. “Don’t worry. Along with the storage, my carpenter was under orders to make everything nearly impossible to break or hurt yourself on.”
“Good,” I said. “The boys will be the acid test of how well he succeeded. How in the world did you all get here so fast?”