Page 35 of Until Now
Maxen
The inside of Wes’ house looks like the aftermath of a Black Friday sale. There are discarded items of clothing and things in the wrong places. I see a soda can atop a stack of books on a shelf and a lantern we did not need. But in reality, it’s just ground zero for our “guys trip.” We gathered here an hour ago so we can take off together.
“You have your inhaler, Bing?” I say as we put on our gloves.
I think this would be considered a withering look. “You sound like Mom.”
“Good. I consider that a compliment.”
The final checklist for our big adventure has been checked twice. Think we’re good. I can tell Bing is excited to know he will be on the back of Wes’ Harley. I talked Kim into letting Hunter ride with me. The Smokey Mountains are within reach for a three-day trip. I can’t wait to see how the kids react to our campsite and accommodations. Hell, I’m excited.
James and Dean are carrying a grocery bag full of chips and candy. July said this was how she convinced them that riding in a car with their grandfather has its advantages. Riding on the back of a motorcycle was not going to happen anyway. Asher could have taken James, but that would have left Dean behind. It worked out. Once we get up there, they’ll be able to get rides with their father and me.
So four kids, Asher, Wes, and I make a good group. It’s going to be fun—everything except for the missing Dominique part. Our cell service will be iffy too. It will be seventy-two hours without sex. I’m counting.
“What time are you going over my sister’s tonight?”
July plops down in the club chair next to the picture window. “We’re going to pick up some dinner and be there by five. We didn’t want to make it too late for her.”
“We’ve already picked out our entertainment for the night. I mean, other than the wine we plan on drinking,” Dominique adds.
“Let me guess,” Wes says. “It’s eitherGreaseorThe Notebook. Am I right?”
“No, you are not. It’sDirty Dancingif you must know,” November chuckles.
“Oh, God. If I have to sit through that one more time, I’ll turn into a chick,” Asher says, heading for the door.
That comment prompts a group response, everyone putting their two cents into the mix.
“Hold on!” Wes yells. “We’ve got more important things to do, like head out. Let’s get going.”
Dominique and I take the last few minutes to have a proper, but pure, goodbye. We exchange a PG kiss and hold each other for a quiet moment. Sometimes words say less than silence. When we part, she looks at Bing.
“You have a good time. Listen to the men. Okay?”
She takes him in a tight embrace, and he holds on.
“I love you, honey.”
There’s a hesitation that I understand.Not here, Mom.
Our destination is about four and a half hours away from Smyrna, so that should put us there around two, two-thirty. Time to head out.
* * *
I was off by an hour and a half. It’s nearly four, and everyone is ready to get off the bikes. I hadn’t considered the kid factor. Wes’ boys either have the weakest bladders, or they’ve been drinking large amounts of soda. There have been four stops. But what the hell, this is supposed to be a near rule-free few days.
Asher, Wes, and I talked about how much fun it would be for the boys to feel a sense of freedom. From moms mostly. Not that we would say that. They’re lucky to have mothers who care so much and keep their eyes on everything they do. But for just three days, we are going to let them experience the world woman free. They’ll find out for themselves it can be fun, but not something they want to make a habit of.
Wes takes the turn onto Tipi Lane, right past the large sign that reads,Smokey Mountain Tipi Village.I slow the bike to a crawl and feel Hunter shift his weight a little as he leans in.
“Is this where we’re staying?”
I nod and take the winding road leading to the village. We did our due diligence, so I am not surprised how it’s laid out. The few tipis available are conveniently located near a bathhouse, laundry facilities, and a playground.
River sounds reach our ears as we move closer to where we’ll park the bikes. The tipis are tucked away from the rest of the campground but within a stone’s throw of the group fire pit. We rented all three, just to make sure there’s enough space for boys who like to stay up all night and men who want to stretch out and grab a few hours.
Wes pulls over and stops in front of Big Fish, the furthest tipi to the right. Asher pulls the car around to a parking space across Little Bear, the tipi to the left. I take our place right next to Dancing Bear, our home for two nights.
