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“Um, I—it’s nothing. What’s that?” I croak.
“A bee,” he tells me, setting it gently on the console table in the hall so I can pick it up for a better look. “I’ve been working on it for a few weeks.” His face screws up. “Technically, Dad still has me grounded and limits my time with the TV and phone, so…”
He shrugs so nonchalantly and pushes his glasses up his nose.
I can’t help it, I laugh.
This is pure Colt.
Just like his father, he’s a giant sweetheart pretending he isn’t.
The bee is fantastic, of course. Sanded smooth where it counts and detailed with tiny lines in its wings. Even the eyes are crazy realistic.
“This is fricking amazing,” I say roughly. “Thank you, Colt. Can I give you a hug?”
“Yeah.” He submits to my manic hug, and I squeeze him tight because I’m going to miss him, too.
I’ll mourn the crazy family dynamic in this house and this sweet, shy boy for a long time.
When he pulls back, his eyes flash with worry.
“What happened? Are you leaving?” he asks. “Do you want me to call Dad? I can get him in here ASAP.”
No!
Panicked, I hold up my hand, forcing a smile.
“No, don’t worry. It’s… it’s an adult thing,” I say, shaking my head. “Your dad and I had a disagreement. We just… we need some time to sort things out.”
“Oh. Oh, shit.” The dramatic way he says it sounds almost comical, especially when he folds his arms and rolls his eyes. “Winnie, what dumbass thing did he pull on you?”
My smile breaks, but I do my best to hold it.
“No, Colt. It’s my fault, actually. That’s the problem. He’s been trying to help me out because he’s a great guy, but I’m herecausing a lot of issues, and I can’t keep getting in his hair. So, yeah, I’m going to head out for a bit.”
He cocks his head, studying me like he can tell this is goodbye. I suppose he’s old enough to know the truth.
“Where are you going? Not back to the last guy?”
“God, no! I’m not crawling back to my old life, that’s dead and buried. And I have you and Archer to thank for that.”
Instead of saying more, I pull him into another hug.
He’ssucha great kid.
My eyes mist over again and I squeeze them shut, counting to ten until I think I’ve got myself about under control.
“Bye now. Take care of your dad,” I manage, turning my back and hurrying out the door before another look from his sad blue eyes changes my mind.
Well,crap.
Despite loving nature a ton, Mother Nature doesn’t always love me back. She’s kinda demanding and one-sided like that.
I’ve been comfy enough camping in the Ozarks and a few other parks, but it turns out that those places you go where people strike windproof tents and where you always have fluffy beds and full canteens and endless instant foods—that isn’t real camping.
At least, not the sort of camping I’ve gone for this time.
I bought all the equipment secondhand off a guy on Facebook Marketplace before I realized not only am I not the best person to be doing this—aka, a total clueless idiot—but this isn’t remotely easy on your own.