Page 64 of No Greater Love
"Alright, alright," Tasha sighed dramatically. "How can I say no to that face? Besides, it's not every day someone graduates from fifth grade. But if I see a spider bigger than my thumb, I'm sleeping in the car. I guess I'll have to go buy industrial-strength bug spray... and maybe a hazmat suit."
"Actually," I said quickly, "I was thinking we could rent a cabin. At the campground. So, you know, technically camping for Paige, but with actual beds and plumbing. And air conditioning."
Tasha's relief was visible. "Oh,thank God. You had me picturing myself with a sleeping bag and a prayer."
Booking the two-bedroom beachside cabin made my wallet wince, and I saw Tasha raise an eyebrow when I mentioned the price later. "Well," she'd said, "with that cabin price, looks like we're officially on a 'pack our own groceries and cook every meal' kind of vacation. Hope you like my famous peanut butter and jelly, Paige."
Paige was already bouncing on her toes. "Can we have a campfire? Can we roast marshmallows? Can we go swimming? Can we leave right after graduation?"
"All of the above," I promised,
"Perfect," Tasha said. "My ear infection should be completely gone by then, so I can actually enjoy the water."
I was already pulling up the campground website on my phone. "There's this place about three hours from here, right on the beach..."
The graduation ceremony itself was everything you'd expect from an elementary school production- adorable, endless, and featuring at least three kids who forgot which way to walk across the stage. Paige looked impossibly grown up in her cap and gown, and when they called her name, I felt that familiar mix of pride and terror that came with marking time.
"She looks so mature," Tasha whispered beside me, and I realized she was feeling it too. This strange bittersweet pride in a child who wasn't technically hers but somehow had become ours to worry about and celebrate.
After the ceremony, Paige was so excited about our trip that she demanded we pack the car that very evening.
"We have to get there as early as possible," she insisted, dragging her suitcase down the hallway. "What if all the good spots are taken? What if we miss the sunrise? What if?—"
"Breathe, kiddo," I said, but I was already helping her load beach supplies into the back of my SUV.
"Can you wake me up really early?" she asked Tasha. "Like, super early so we can get there first thing?"
Tasha looked at her with mock horror. "You want me to wake up at ER shift times on my day off?" She paused dramatically. "Only for you, kid. Only for you."
Saturday morning arrived with Paige knocking on my bedroom door at 6:30 AM sharp, fully dressed and ready to go. By the time I'd stumbled to the coffee pot, Tasha was already at my front door with an overnight bag and a travel mug that suggested she'd made peace with the early departure time.
"Morning, sunshine," she said, then stood on her toes to steal a quick kiss that tasted like coffee and made me considerably more awake.
"Ready for the great outdoors?" I asked.
"Define ready," she said, but she was smiling.
The drive took us along scenic back roads that wound through farmland and small towns, windows down, music playing. We'd somehow managed to create a compromise playlist that included Paige's pop favorites, Tasha's R&B, and my classic rock without anyone complaining too much.
About an hour into the drive, we passed a massive cornfield that stretched to the horizon.
"Wow," I said, gesturing toward the endless rows. "Just look at all that corn. It's a-maize-ing!"
The silence in the car was profound.
"Dad," Paige said finally, "that was terrible."
"I thought it was pretty good," I protested.
"It was corn-y," Tasha added, then immediately looked horrified at herself. "Oh no. It's contagious."
"Ugggghhhhhhhh," Paige said with the long-suffering tone of someone who'd been dealing with dad jokes for eleven years. Thankfully, she recovered quickly.
"Are we there yet?" she asked as we passed a sign for a roadside attraction called "Pirate's Paradise Mini Golf."
"We werealreadythere, we’re on the way back home now," I said automatically.
"DAD!" But Paige was giggling despite herself. "Can we stop at the pirate place?" she added before I could answer her original question. "Please? It has a shipwreck!"
