“Don’t worry,” Oscar tells her. “We’ll get her back.”
“Shit,” I mutter as I climb off Selkie.
She sits up next to me and brushes her hair off her face. “It’s okay, Henri. I’m here.”
Henri rushes up to her and drops to her knees. “Are you okay?” She pats Selkie all over, looking for signs that she’s not. Then she turns to me. “Did you save her?”
Oscar stomps us to us, glaring at Selkie. He’s figured it out. “You knocked down our tent?”
“What?” Henri says as she stares at her mom.
I climb to my feet. “Your mother collapsed our tent.”
Henri’s mouth drops open. “Why?”
Selkie stands, offers a hand to Henri and helps her up. “Because it’s fun. It’s what you do when you camp. Play tricks on each other.”
“I didn’t mean why did you do it,” Henri spits. “I meant why didn’t you let me do it with you?”
Oscar stares at Henri with hostile eyes. “You’re an idiot.”
“Two for the price of one,” I mutter.
“Oh c’mon,” Fleming says as she dusts off her ass. “It’s funny. Doesn’t anyone here have a sense of humor?”
Henri balls her fist and smacks her mom in the arm. “We could’ve made it a mom and daughter thing.”
“You were sound asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you. You know how grouchy you get if you don’t get your rest.”
“God! You so sound like gramma.” She stalks away.
“Wait!” Oscar shouts after her. “You gotta set up our tent!”
“I didn’t do it!” Henri shouts back. “Mom did. She can set it up.”
“She’s your mom. Learn to control her.”
Fleming starts laughing and I have to admit, it gets it a chuckle out of me.
Oscar glares at both of us. “I’m sleepin’ in the truck.”
“Brambles is in the truck,” Henri snarls as she turns to face him. “You leave him alone.”
“Or what?” Oscar sneers.
“I’ll get him to bite your balls off.”
Jesus fucking Christ. “Forget about the tent!”
Selkie rolls her eyes. “I pulled it down. I’ll set it back up. Geez.”
“No,” I snarl. “Brambles sleeps with you. Oscar and I’ll sleep in the truck. This fucking camping trip is over. We’re packing up and leavin’ in the morning.”
“Who died and made you boss?”
I take a deep breath to hold onto my temper. “No one died yet, but you’re close, Fleming. So fucking close.”
When Oscar and I get in the truck, I start it up and move it several yards away.
