Page 16 of Daddy’s Little Camping Trip (Found by Daddy #14)
Gilbraith
During the day before’s flurry of activities, we had spent a little time apart preparing for very special performances.
At first, I’d held back, not wanting to subject anyone to my singing voice, but when Quill asked me to “play too,” I agreed, hoping it wouldn’t drive him away to hear me squalling.
To my relief, the daddies were only going to perform one song, and it was in a chorus style, so I could just keep my voice down and hopefully manage to blend in with the others. Most of the talent show was going to be littles displaying their talents in so many areas.
Our dome was such a magical place to spend time together, a home away from home far better than Quill’s buggy tent. From what others were saying, those whose roommates did not leave the door hanging open, they were having a better time.
If we hadn’t agreed to participate, I’d have done my best to convince Quill to spend the rest of the day alone here at the dome, but as he pointed out, people were counting on us to show up.
What would happen if everyone decided to stay home in bed?
Ms. Lily, our hosts, and everyone else here put a lot of work into the event, and we’d promised to be part of this big finale.
Once we’d made our way back along the trail and reached the campground, we could see that there was no danger of nobody showing up for the talent show.
According to the posted schedule, the littles would put on all of their skits and songs and other performances then the daddies would sing as the grand finale.
Sounded like an iffy order to me since the littles were sure to be the stars, but I was being a good sport, ready to participate with a smile and sing very quietly so as not to offend anyone’s ears.
The campground looked way better to me now than it had when I arrived, everything tinted with a hint of the rosy glow of the man I’d spent the night making love with.
We held hands while walking around the grounds for a bit before someone called for volunteers to help set up the chairs and stage. “Want to do it?” Quill asked, eyes dancing. “I think it will be fun.”
“I’m all in for fun.” We followed the others who were headed that way and soon joined in the fun.
Bridger and Hudson were laughing and joking; some others were pretending to argue about how to set the chairs.
The people who’d attended this event had bonded in a way I hadn’t noticed but could really appreciate.
Sometimes, especially since I’d been single, it was easy to compartmentalize my daddy self into the guy who showed up at Chained to play in the little room, but he was really very much a part of me all the time.
At work, when one of the secretaries needed a ride home or someone needed a friend to listen to their problems over lunch.
After my night and morning with Quill, instead of being just one of the single daddies who filled in, I was the daddy who was hanging out with him.
We worked together to get everything ready then paused for a sandwich lunch before settling in for the afternoon’s entertainment.
Super casual, everyone not performing at any particular moment sat in front of the stage and applauded, cheered, and occasionally catcalled.
The slushie machine set up in the corner was a huge hit as well, while littles took the stage and performed.
They hadn’t done a lot of rehearsal. It was a talent show, after all, so they were pretty much just doing what they already knew how to do, but it was amazing to see these men who I’d watched building with blocks or chasing one another with laughter, reveal hidden gifts of tap dancing or playing the harmonica.
One who usually just sat on his daddy’s lap and loved story time turned out to be the funniest joke teller I’d ever heard.
Three of them did a skit about a silly daddy who couldn’t make up his mind what to cook for his little for dinner, leaving us all in stitches.
And then, it was Quill’s turn. He’d been very closemouthed about what he planned to do, and I was so curious but sure whatever he did would be great.
He was great, so of course he’d be wonderful at anything.
I was already prejudiced in his favor about everything.
As I should be. If your daddy—even your daddy for the weekend—didn’t support you, who would?
The chatter died down as he stood all alone in the middle of the stage, hands at his sides, and drew a deep breath.
I wanted to go up and put my arm around him, tell him whatever he did would be great, but if he didn’t want to perform at all, that was fine too.
But then music came over the speakers, and Quill, who had never said a word about being able to sing, opened his lips and let the lyrics pour out.
The song, a pop love song I’d heard on the radio a few times, had the entire crowd enthralled.
I had no words to describe what I heard, the pure sound, the heart, the heat.
The little I’d held in my arms all night held all these people in the palm of his hand.
My vision blurred, and goose bumps rose on my arms at the beauty, and by the time the last notes trailed off, and the daddies and littles abandoned their chairs for a standing ovation, nobody doubted who had won the talent show.
The prize may have only been a certificate, but I’d make sure it was framed as a memento of this very special weekend.
The daddies’ song came off as more comedic than anything, which worked well for my abilities, and then it was over.
And time to say goodbye to the camping trip I had not wanted to go on and now would not have missed for anything.
“Did you like my song?” Quill appeared at my elbow, clutching his certificate and also a gift card from the resort. A nice extra nobody had mentioned. “I was so nervous.”
“Everyone loved it, but I loved it more.” I hugged him, careful not to crumple his prize. “You never told me you could sing!”
“It’s just a hobby, something to do in the shower.” He ducked his head shyly. “You were pretty good, too.”
“No.” I chuckled, giving him another gentle squeeze. “I was not. But it was fun and nobody was much better in the group, so it was all good.”
There were more snacks to be had after the show, and we grazed our way through some homemade cookies and milk, chatting with the others. Quill did know Hudson, but he’d never really spoken with Bridger and was fascinated to hear about the daddy’s crochet pattern empire.