She crosses her arms defensively. “Yeah, I’m sorry, but honest to god, you waaaaaay overreacted.”
I could nod and walk away. I should nod and walk away. I’d usually nod and walk away, but for fuck’s sake. “That’s your idea of an apology?”
“I said I was sorry. What more do you want?”
Groveling maybe. A blowjob. A good fuck. “An apology means taking responsibility for your actions. Remorse. Not blaming someone else.”
She rolls her eyes. “Great. I’m camping with a dictionary.”
“Not anymore,” I grunt as I stand up. She’s not short but I feel like I’m towering over her.
Her face turns to mine and I have the impulse to take her chin in my fingers and kiss her until she can’t breathe.
Thankfully, Oscar interrupts my moment of madness as he walks up to us. “Dad, are we gonna eat before we leave?” Typical teenage boy. Eats more than his body weight every day.
I glance at Selkie. “No. We’re gonna pack up and leave.”
“Henri’s gonna be hungry too,” Selkie retorts.
I sigh. “How about we get the hell out of here and stop somewhere for breakfast?”
Selkie thinks it over, then says, “Sure. As long as the two of you stay civilized.”
Oscar opens his mouth to reply, but I elbow him hard enough to make him grunt. “We’ll do our best not to eat with our fingers.” I force a friendly grin.
Oscar and Selkie look at me suspiciously.
“What?” I say. “I can’t make a joke?”
“That’s a double-barreled question,” Selkie mutters as she jumps in the bed of the truck and waits for a ride back to the campsite.
When we arrive, we find Henri sitting in a chair looking sullen. Brambles is next to her, tongue lolling, tail wagging.
“We’re leaving,” Selkie says to Henri. “Get up and help pack.”
Henri gets to her feet without saying anything and we all look at her suspiciously.
“What?” she says, then stalks towards her tent.
The four of us talk in monosyllables as we pack up. At least Oscar and Henri have stopped bickering.
When I stoop and grab Henri’s duffle off the ground, she tries to grab it from me. “I can do it,” she snaps.
I turn my back and walk towards the truck.
“She can do it herself,” Selkie calls as she follows me.
“Leave him alone,” Oscar tells her.
I wing the duffle in the truck bed as I talk myself off the cliff. “Get in,” I say grimly to the three of them, but Selkie crosses her arms and glares at me.
“What now!” She’s making me crazy.
She steps close to me, her voice low. “Oscar sits in the back seat with Henri. He’s the kid. If it were any other adult, you would have put him back there on our way out.”
She’s right. I’m disrespecting her because she’s Henri’s mother. “Yeah,” I say by way of apology. At least I’m not blaming her for my actions.
Oscar’s already got his seatbelt on when I get to him. He looks at me expectantly, then in outrage when I say, “You’re in the back. Selkie sits up front.”
