Unfriending the Dr by Piper Sullivan
Ryan
Setting up camp with a bunch of little boys was a loud, boisterous affair that reminded me of all the times my friends and I had come out to these same woods to hang out far from the prying eyes of parental supervision. Luckily each boy had an adult to help, and I had the best little boy.
“Should we set up the tent first?”
Titus nodded. “What should I do?”
I smiled at his easy acceptance of my authority. “I thought you were the camping expert?”
Titus grinned. “I’m a fishing expert,” he shot back with all the arrogance of a boy twice his age. At least. “Mom said you’re in charge.” He waved a hand at the pile that would eventually become our tent for the weekend.
“That makes me the tent expert, then. Let’s start with that blue piece.”
Titus grabbed the tarp and held it up with a frown. “What’s this?”
“This is the ground tarp so we don’t have to sleep right on the ground. And it’ll keep us dry if it starts to rain.”
“Did you go camping a lot as a kid, Ryan?”
I smiled. “Sort of, yeah. We used to come out here to hang out, and it rains a lot here in Oregon so tents were perfect.” The kid was far too young to understand the details so I left it at that. We got the tent fabric on top of the tarp easily. “Come on, grab those poles right there.”
“What are these for?”
“The poles are what give the tent its structure, otherwise we could just make one of your famous blanket forts.” Over the years we’d spent more nights than I could count, watching TV or playing video games under a fort that used every blanket in the house and took over the entire living room. I sighed, wondering if those days were numbered. If Titus’ dad got his way, I would be slowly but surely pushed out of his life. And Persephone’s.
“Blanket forts wouldn’t keep us warm out here, would they?”
“Nope. And the way the temperature can drop so dramatically, you want to make sure you can stay warm and dry.”
“So I don’t get sick, right?”
“Right.” I smiled at the smart little boy, watching him work one end of a pole into the tent. “Need some help?”
“I got it.” Titus was as stubborn as his mother, determined to do things on his own no matter how difficult.
“All right.” My heart raced as I watched, wondering if Ferguson had swooped in on this fortuitous weekend where he could have Persephone all to himself. No children or best friends attempting to cockblock his efforts. He was a man, even if he was an idiot and an asshole, and no man in his right mind would pass up a second chance with a woman like her. She was beautiful and smart and funny, strong and determined. Persephone was absolute perfection.
“Okay, I got it.” Titus stood back with his hands on his hips and a proud smile on his face.
“Perfect. Now it’s time to raise the tent. Ready?”
Titus nodded and we got busy getting the tent upright. It took more time than it should have because Titus was a little guy, but eventually we got the tent raised and the rain flap on. “Is that it?”
I nodded. “Congratulations, kiddo, you’ve put up your first tent.” I held a hand up and he gave it an energetic smack.
“Cool.”
“Time to fill our bellies?” My stomach rebelled at the idea of hot dogs and marshmallows but this was camping, and that was standard fare.
“Yes, please!”
We made our way to the campfire where we overate burnt hot dogs and melted marshmallows, and most of the kids ended up with aching stomachs because we were all men.
“How are you feeling, buddy?”
“I’m okay.”
I gave Titus a long look, looking for signs of a tummy ache that I’d become familiar with after last year’s Halloween debacle where I let him eat his bodyweight in trick or treat goodies. He wasn’t pale and didn’t look like he was about to puke. “Let’s go get some water.”
“Yes, please.” He followed me back to the cluster of tents that made up our campsite and drank half the bottle with ease. “Can we go fishing now?”
“It’s a little late in the day, but I’m game if you are.”
“I am!” He was so eager to teach me what he knew about fishing that I found myself just as eager when we grabbed up the fishing gear and made our way to the lake about a quarter mile from our campsite.
It was quiet around the lake since most of the other campers and their chaperones were sleeping off their bellyaches. “This is nice.”
Titus nodded. “The quiet won’t scare away the fish so we can catch lots, even late in the day.”
“How do you know so much about fishing?” I’d known the kid his whole life, where did he pick up these fishing skills?
“YouTube. You can learn anything there.”
“Of course.” I shook my head and frowned. “What’s that red spot?” It was small but bright red.
Titus shrugged and put a hand to the back of his neck. “Just a bite.”
I was about to say more but some flying critter took a bite out of me and I smacked it. Hard. My pole started to move and I felt my excitement grow. “Titus, I think I got something!”
The kid gasped and turned to face me, violet eyes wide as he fought the urge to jump up and down inside the small boat. “Okay, pick up the pole and hold it as tight as you can.”
“Doing that, buddy.”
He giggled. “Now you have to tighten the slack, that means that you have to-,”
“Got it.” I followed his instructions with a smile. “Now what?”
“Pull up hard so you can do what’s called setting the hook, that’s to make sure the fish is on there for real.”
“Is this hard enough? I don’t remember fishing requiring so much arm strength.”
Titus giggled and doubled over as I let out a strained grunt. “Can you feel the fish on the hook?”
I tugged again and nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”
“Reel it in and get the fish!” He jumped up and down as I did all the hard work, pulling the line from the water to see an impressive looking trout. “Wow!”
“Wow is right,” I responded in shock. “I think that’s enough for both of us, don’t you?”
“Oh yeah. Does that mean we’re done?” His shoulders fell in disappointment.
“Nope. Let’s put this one in the box and see if the fishing expert can catch one of his own.”
Titus stood a little taller at the challenge in my voice and stared at the water as if he could simply will a fish to bite. “I can. I will.”
There was that Vanguard stubbornness.
And that thought brought up what Persephone was up against with her ex, no doubt pleading his case at this very moment.
