“We just left the city, Hellcat, don’t do that.” I sigh.
“Do what? Ask questions?” She laughs. Her hand is free of the splint now, but her fingers are still taped together for support. She’s been antsy, pacing around the apartment like a caged animal because she hasn’t been able to play or lift weights. I’m hoping that taking her out of the city does both of us some good.
She’s mentioned more than once how much she hates camping, but most people say that until they’re knee deep in it and having a good time in nature. She’s packed an extra bag full of God-knows-what and crammed it into the back of my truck, even though I told her it wouldn’t fit.
Just like I said she didn’t fit into my life and yet…
“Are you even listening?” she asks.
“Nope.”
She scowls and drops my phone back in the center console before kicking off her shoes and curling up her legs beneath her on the seat. “What’s your favorite song?” I question after a beat of silence, and her face scrunches up in thought.
“Uh,” she pauses, “maybe that song by Nine Days?” I try to hide the smile on my face.
“Story of a Girl?” I say like I don’t know exactly which one she’s talking about. “Is that your favorite or the song of the week?” I jab.
“Same thing.” She shrugs.
She closes her eyes and pulls the large hoodie she has on up around her chin as she rests back on the seat and eventually falls asleep. The campsite is another two hours, and the silence that fills the truck is welcome as we pass small highway towns and rest stops, driving further into the wilderness. The smell of trees and fresh air fills my nose, and it’s like balm to all the frayed nerves under my skin lately.
Rhea stirs a few times but never wakes, and as we pull into the campsite, I have to shake her shoulder gently to get her lucid. “We’re here,” I say quietly, reaching back to wake Daisy. “Sleepy head,” I tease her as she sits up and yawns, looking around at her new surroundings.
“We are in the middle of nowhere…” Rhea says.
“There’s no service out here, Dad,” Daisy whines as she looks up from her phone.
“Okay, you two…You’ll be alright for three days,” I say to them, and Daisy chucks her phone into her backpack. “Who wants to help me set up a tent?” I ask them, and both stare at me like I’ve got two heads. “Right…”
I climb from the truck and take a second with the fresh air and the quiet nature to steady myself. So much has shifted in my life over the last few weeks that most days I feel completely sideways. Being out here resets everything. It always does. And when the breeze rustles through the trees, I feel them.
Hey boys.
My heart clenches for a moment, painfully so in my chest. Somewhere deep in the woods, the birds fight back and forth in the branches. The lake stirs, the soft sound of waves kissing the shore, and I feel it in my bones. This is a good decision. I breathe in the clean air, close my eyes, and root myself in the dirt before I start unloading.
Eventually, the two of them begin moving and start helping set everything out on the spot or on the nearby picnic table. Rhea and Daisy laugh as she flips out about a bug she can’t identify, and I lay out the poles to the tent on the ground. Daisy wanders over eventually to aid me in my struggle, her hands a welcome help but pretty unexpected.
“Sorry, there’s no service,” I say to her as I thread a pole through the fabric.
“All my music is downloaded, it’s chill.” She hands me another and holds up the stiff side as I push the pole up and around. “Well, it wasn’t, but…It’s only a couple of days.”
“That’s my girl,” I say to her and finish the third pole. “Hey uh…” I slow down, trying to come up with a way to word it that doesn’t have her closing up on me. “So who’s the boy?”
Daisy’s head snaps up, and she looks entirely unimpressed.
Okay, so wrong approach.
“Dad, no.” She shakes her head, “We arenothaving this talk.”
“Why not?” I scoff, “I wanna hear about him,” I say.I really do not, but here we are.
“No, you don’t,” she calls my bluff.
“Come on, I do. Tell me about him, what’s his name?” I ask her, even though I already know, it’s better to give the illusion of me being completely in the dark, so she can share what she wants and nothing more. Even though I’d prefer to hear everything…
“Auggie,” she confesses gently, and it feels like I’ve won the lottery.You got this. Keep her talking.
“What kind of name is Auggie?” I pull the line out again, and she scowls, but I can see the amusement on her face and know that I have her attention.
