He groans dramatically but starts helping. We giggle the whole time, arguing over which pole goes where, cursing when the rainfly gets twisted, high-fiving when we finally get the stakes in straight. By the time it’s up—a big four-person dome with mesh top for stargazing—we’re both flushed and laughing.
“Done!” Robbie declares, flopping onto his back in the grass. “We’re camping princes.”
I drop down beside him. “Camping princes who just survived tent assembly without instructions.”
We lie there a minute, staring up through the branches at patches of blue sky, breathing hard.
Then Robbie rolls onto his side, props his head on his hand. “Okay.Seriously. Tonight. All the naughty details. I need to know everything.”
I burst out laughing—loud, giddy, uncontrollable. “Bedtime. I promise. But right now it’s time for adventures.”
He grins. “Forest explorations?”
“Forest explorations,” I trill.
We grab water bottles, a couple granola bars, and head off down the faint trail toward the creek—two city boys turned woodland explorers, laughing the whole way.
Morning light filters through the tent mesh, soft and dappled, waking me before the alarm on my phone even has a chance to buzz. Robbie’s still snoring softly in his sleeping bag beside me, one arm flung over his eyes, mouth slightly open. I smile, carefulnot to wake him as I unzip the tent flap and crawl out into the crisp air.
The forest is quiet except for birdsong and the distant rush of the creek.
Kaleb’s truck is already parked at the edge of the clearing—he must have driven in before dawn. He’s leaning against the hood, arms crossed, coffee mug in one hand, Racer sitting obediently at his feet. When he sees me, his face softens in that way it only does for me—stern lines melting into something warm and private.
“Morning, baby boy,” he says low, pushing off the truck to meet me halfway.
I go straight into his arms, pressing my face against his flannel. He smells and feels amazing. In moments like this, I truly can’t believe I’ve only known him for such a short period of time. Everything about Kaleb just screamshome.
“Morning, Daddy,” I whisper against his chest.
He kisses the top of my head, lingers there. “Sleep okay?”
“Best sleep ever. You?”
“Missed you,” Kaleb chuckles.
Simple. Honest. And it makes my heart do that silly flip.
Robbie emerges a few moments later, hair a wild halo, rubbing his eyes. “Is that coffee I smell?Realcoffee? Not campground instant?”
Kaleb chuckles. “Oh, yeah, it’s real. Got thermoses for the journey out of here. And breakfast in town. Our diner makes the best pancakes you’ll ever eat.”
Robbie’s eyes light up. “Sold! Let’s go.”
We pile into the truck—me in the middle again, Robbie shotgun, Racer in the back. The drive into town is easy, windows down, radio low, Robbie and I singing along off-key to whatever classic rock Kaleb has on. He doesn’t complain. My Daddy simply smiles that small, private smile every time our voices crack on the high notes.
The diner’s busy when we pull up… Saturday brunch crowd, locals mostly, a few tourists in hiking gear. Heads turn when we walk in. Not staring, more like friendly nods, waves, quick “Morning, Kaleb”s from half the booths.
Mrs. Peplinska is covering behind the counter, wiping down the coffee machine. She spots Kaleb and grins wide.
“Kaleb! The usual?”
“Times three today,” Kaleb says, jerking his thumb back at us. “And extra bacon for the boys. They earned it after surviving a night in the woods.”
Mrs. Peplinska laughs. “Coming right up. Sit wherever. I’ll have my husband bring it right over.”
“Now that’s class,” Kaleb says. “Not many places you can call on one business owner to cover for you when you have matters to attend. Mr and Mrs. Peplinska keeping it right as always.”
I nod and I can tell that Robbie is impressed too.