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“Right.” I attempted a serious expression. “An African violet that isn’t a violet. Got it.”

He placed a pretty pamphlet on the table.The Care and Feeding of Your African Violet.

“Oh.”

“In case you didn’t know. I’ll be honest—I loved Erlene, but she killed everything except her kids. After she passed, I never got around to adding plants. But I feel like you need some pretty in this place. Alessandra agreed.”

Despite myself, I smiled. “You like the pretty?”

“I like you.” Then he rolled his eyes. “Too cheesy. I wanted to bring buttercups, but the florist didn’t sell them. In fact, she gave me a funny look when I asked.”

Words escaped me. Of course he honored my pup name. He was Big D. Daddy D.I never paid enough attention to him. I just assumed he’d always be there.And I’d been in a committed relationship—as had he. Now wasn’t the time for regrets. “African violets are perfect. I think there might be buttercups in the wild around here, but they mainly flower in the spring.”

“We’ll have to go hunting.” He grinned.

Which implies you’ll be around next spring, which is a hell of an assumption on your part and one that doesn’t necessarily panic me.

“What would you like for dinner?” The family had hit the road early afternoon to escape the worst of the Friday traffic bailing out of Vancouver. At least it hadn’t been a long weekend.

He grinned as he moved to the cooler bag. “I hope you didn’t cook.”

“I didn’t.”I didn’t want to seem presumptuous…like assuming you were staying when we hadn’t even discussed that.

“Great. Smith baked us a lasagna. Now, Alessandra said two things. One, that lasagna is a little heavy for a summer’s evening—”

“I don’t mind.”

He chuckled. “Neither do I.”

“And the other?”

“That she taste-tested it and, to her husband’s credit, this was one of the best he’s made. He made two trays, so they’re having lasagna as well. Which is awesome because both Alaina and Keegan love the stuff.” He pulled tinfoil-wrapped food from the cooler first. “Garlic bread.”

“Yummy.”

“Right? They didn’t send salad but figured we could sort that out.”

“I have fresh vegetables.” Probably even the fixings for a green salad.

“So if you sort that, I’ll put the lasagna in the oven to heat. Or should I put slices in the microwave? That way the place won’t get too hot.”

“Good thinking. I’ll admit I microwave more than I cook.”

“You must miss having Chef around.”

I chuckled. “Having someone else do the cooking was lovely. The new campers will be here in just over a week.”

“You must be so stoked.” He grabbed two plates as I organized lettuce, tomatoes, green peppers, and carrots.

“I am. They look like a great group of kids. We’ve got a couple of trans teenagers, one enby, and seven others who identify as queer. I was worried about Makenna and Grey—since they’re only a couple of years older than the oldest camper—but they’ve proven themselves. I mean, I want the campers to have fun. That said, I was grateful we didn’t have any pranks with the last group.”

“That’s not really why the campers are here. At least I know hijinks wasn’t on Keegan’s list.”

I rinsed the lettuce. “Cody gave me the same take. That might change from group to group—mostly depending on personalities. But this first group took their roles seriously.”

“In what way?” Demetrius used a spatula to scoop the heavenly smelling lasagna onto plates.

“I guess…as the inaugural group, they wanted to set a good example. To enjoy their time, certainly, but to be good kids. To, I don’t know…assure Smith and Alessandra that they did the right thing in opening the camp. Does that make sense?”