Page 39 of The Falcon and the Foe

Respectful.

It sent a chill down my back.

I’d really crossed a line, hadn’t I?

* * *

We all metFriday after school in the MacArthur Community Center parking lot. The Center had a white van we borrowed to drive up to the campgrounds. Even though it was chilly, I rolled down all the windows to air it out; the last group to use it had left McDonald’s wrappers on the floor, coating the van with a greasy smell. Nothing fresh air and a few spritzes of Lysol couldn’t handle.

One by one, parents dropped off their kids. Cal checked them in while I loaded their bags. Cal had offered to load, but I had a system to ensure everything would fit and wouldn’t jostle around while driving. We had bags, tents, food, lanterns, and other odds and ends. Cal smiled to himself while I explained my system. I shuddered to think about the mess of bags he could assemble had he been in charge.

Any awkwardness from the kiss faded away throughout the week, buried under normal responsibilities. We’d been texting back and forth to prepare for the trip, and emojis and jokes made their way back into the conversation. My heart still fluttered when a message from him popped up, but that was something I could keep to myself.

Cal had asked me to watch Josh after school Wednesday and Thursday while Edith visited her son’s family in Buffalo. I worked with Josh on his math homework and drilled the boys on multiplication exercises to help them prepare for their upcoming math quiz. In that short time, Josh was getting more answers right, and I saw minor improvements by the time Cal picked him up.

A little while later, we were on the road. I drove, Cal took shotgun, and ten scouts talked and yelled at each other in the back. They were human pixie sticks.

I quietly pumped my fist as we left the parking lot.

“Excited?” Cal asked.

“We’re getting on the road five minutes ahead of schedule.”

“That’s basically on time.”

“That’s pretty awesome. Ten kids, loading the trunk, and we still beat time.”

He cocked a judgy eyebrow at me and sipped his extra-large coffee. Despite it being evening, he said he needed as much caffeine as possible to survive the weekend.

“I know this isn’t something you’re used to, being on time, but every minute counts with beating rush hour.”

“Hey, hey. Objection, your honor. I am punctual. I’ve been at every meeting early. I was here a few minutes ahead of schedule. This image you have of me as a devastatingly handsome man who can’t show up anywhere on time is simply not true.”

He was joking, but Ididthink of him as handsome. It was devastating.

“Hmm,” I raised an eyebrow. “I’m concerned that the tents won’t be big enough for both you and your ego.”

“Touché.” He snorted a laugh. “Seriously, though, how big are these tents?”

“They can fit two kids comfortably. We’ll each have our own, so you’ll be fine.”

“Good, because I need my space when I sleep.”

“I also brought thick pads for us to put under our sleeping bags.”

He let out a hallelujah sigh and put his hand over his heart. Our fortysomething backs needed the extra support. “Russ, forget every mean thing I ever said about your obsessive need to prepare.”

Because Sourwood was on a higher elevation, fall started to arrive earlier. As we made our way through the quaint downtown strip, I caught flecks of yellow and red in the trees that flanked the road. The campground would also look nice.

Maybe a tad romantic?

Nope. Nope, nope, n-to-the-ope, nope.

Once we got on the highway, I was reminded of the problem with taking kids on road trips.

“When are we stopping for a bathroom break?” Mason whined.

Small kids = small bladders.

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