Page 57 of Shattered Dreams

“Thank you.”

“Of course. Let’s get our adventure started.”

I got in and he walked around to the driver’s side, slid in and started the van. He glanced over at me, cranked the music, and got my boys to sing as we traveled towards the camping grounds.

Ever since the day my van broke down, my life has been surreal. In some ways, it felt as though I had never left and the last ten years were a bad dream.

But I did leave.

And I was on borrowed time with Richard.

Yesterday, while we re-arranged the front office, Libby and I shared a lot. She understood the drinking and drug use I dealt with from John. Her twin Cora took that path from high school, and they forced her into rehab.

She shared how Cooper left without a goodbye, and it crushed her. Then she reassured me that Richard wasn’t a rebound.

“Can’t be a rebound if you never stopped loving him.” She shrugged. “Don’t know what it is about the Parks boys. But they seem to be the one for us.”

I looked over at Richard and he glanced over, smiling at me before taking my hand in his.

The girls were both snoozing as the boys talked amongst themselves. There’s no fighting. No yelling. Just songs, laughter, and jokes.

Like what a family should be. Like I’ve always dreamed my family to be, and the man making it possible was the man from my dreams, too.

I don’t know how long I’d been lost in my thoughts, but he slowed the van and spoke with the guard at the little shack, paying for our campsite when I looked around.

“We’re here?”

“Nope.” He popped the p. “I’m paying a parking fine for my great-grandpa.”

“Ass.” I laughed.

We wove around the campground looking for our site, and I’m excited when I noted it’s close to the bathrooms.

He parked and then we opened the van doors, leaving the girls in and the boys helped us get things from the back. While we’re unloading the tent, the sky grew dark, and the temperature dropped.

“Richdad?” Tyler walked over, staring at the sky. “Why’s it dark?”

“Richie?” I craned my neck around. “Please tell me it’s not about to rain?”

His head swiveled around and then he nodded to the tent we were unfolding. “Let’s pick up the pace. That way, if it does, we have shelter.”

“Good idea.” I agreed.

We work together, unfolding the tent, laying it out, getting the poles where they go when the first crack of thunder hit. My boys all jumped, reminding me of a Scooby-Doo moment.

Richard motioned to the van. “You boys go sit in the van; we’ll get this up.”

“Yes, sir.” They yelled behind them as they climbed back in.

Big, fat, cold raindrops fell from the sky as we got the poles assembled and fed them through the loops on the corners of the tent. The faster we moved, the harder the rain fell.

Richard looked over at me, shaking his head. “Let’s get in the van and let it pass.”

“Agreed.” We ran over to the van and closed the doors.

Richie turned it on, so some air was circulating while we tried to wait out our mini shower. Only now that we’re safe and dry, the sky opened up, and the rain poured down, making it impossible to see out the windows.

“Is this normal for camping?” Harrison asked wiping the steam off the inside window.

---