And that just about broke me.
Because he was right. The motel was moldy, dark, and filled with shouting strangers. Here, we have trees, stars, and each other. And because I know tonight might be the last night I can make this feel like an adventure instead of what it really is.
I glance back at the boys, still asleep. Theo, just four, clutches his stuffed dinosaur, the one toy I couldn’t bring myself to leave behind. His blond curls are tangled, and there’s a smudge of dirt on his cheek. He’s the one I worry about the most. He doesn’t understand why Mommy stopped calling. He asks about her every night.
Right after they wake up, I have to tell them something I’ve been dreading: that we need to move again. That “camp” is ending. That I don’t know where we’re going next.
I start unzipping the tent just as the sun cracks over the horizon.
“Daddy?” Jack’s voice, groggy but awake.
“Hey, buddy.” I smile like I’ve slept more than three hours. “Morning.”
One by one, the others stir. Micah rubs his eyes, Theo clutches Dino tighter and yawns. We sit together at the edge of the tent, passing around the last two cereal cups. I pretend not to notice Micah giving the rest of his to Theo.
“We gonna go fishing today?” Jack asks.
“Not today,” I say gently. “We might need to drive a little bit.”
“Oh. Like a road trip?”
“Kind of.” I smile again, my mouth aching from the effort. “A new spot. Closer to the mountains.”
They cheer. It’s amazing, the things they can believe when you say it with a smile.
