Page 146 of Van Cort

Preston’s excitement couldn’t be contained, and he raced to get upright. “Extra chocolate?”

Marshall pushed him, sending him off balance to climb out of the tent first. “You don’t need extra chocolate in s’mores, stupid.”

“I like mine chocolatey.” As soon as he was free of the tent, he barged into Marshall.

“Boys, do you ever do anything without pushing and shoving each other?”

“No!” They both answered as they laughed and headed around the cabin towards the small beach.

Dad Rhett was sitting in a deck chair, a few feet away from the fire. It was the first time they’d seen him since arriving on the island, and they ground their feet into the sand to slow them up. “Hey, Dad,” they both said as they arrived in front of him and put on their best behaviour.

He looked them both over, smiling that barely there smile he seemed to use when he came back from work. “I swear you both get bigger every time I get back.”

“I’m still taller,” Marshall said. Their dad nodded.

“For now. He’ll catch you up, though.” Preston reached his body up, making it as tall as he possibly could. They both stood awkwardly for a moment, as he continued looking at them. Dad Rhett wasn’t like Dad West, not completely. He was sterner, and, occasionally, a bit mean. Mom said it was necessary discipline, but that just made Dad West more fun and both of them thought Dad Rhett didn’t like them sometimes. “Come here. I need the biggest hug you can give me. It’s been a long week.” Their eyes nearly bulged out of their heads, but they ran to him and threw all their weight into the moment.

There was chuckling above them, as they tightened their hold on him, but then Marshall tried to get closer and push Preston aside a bit, and that turned into a fight and whining, and before they knew it, Dad Rhett was standing up with the back of their necks in his hands. “Stop it, boys.” They did. Instantly. And both looked at the ground. It didn’t stop them poking their tongues out at each other, though. “Who do we love?”

“Each other, Sir,” they both mumbled.

“Who?” Dad West shouted, as he came into view. “Louder so the world knows it.”

“Each other!” they bellowed into the air.

“Hmm. Better.”

Their mom took some logs from Dad West to pile them up. “And don’t ever forget it. You’re everything to each other, boys. We all are.”

Shoving a few logs into the fire, Dad West came up to them and tussled their hair to lead them away. “Come on. We need more firewood.”

“On it!” Preston shouted, and they both veered off further along the beach before climbing the bank. They could hear the two dads laughing as they ran.

“When do you think we’ll be able to stay here on our own?” Preston mused, as they trawled the woods.

Marshall looked at him and shrugged. “A while. But this is cool.”

“Yeah. As long as Mom doesn’t freak out before the end of the night and pull us into the cabin.”

“Do you think we’ll be able to bring friends here?” Marshall picked up another broken stick for the fire. “I know they always go on about this being for family and Van Cort, but they must have had friends, right?”

“I’m pretty sure West will let us do whatever we want.”

“Yeah, but Rhett won’t.”

“Mom always gets to make the final vote. Aunt April would be on our side, too.”

“Okay, deal. When they let us stay on our own, then, and only then, we talk about friends staying, too. I don’t want them to get weird before that.”

“Deal. Come on. I’m starving.”

Piled up with an armful of logs and sticks, Preston led the way back to the beach.

Their mom and dads were sitting on their chairs, admiring the fire as the sun began to sink behind the horizon. The colours matched the fire, reds and oranges, and they slowed their pace to watch the dark creep over the island. The light coming fromthe cabin helped to keep it away, but the sound of the birds was dimming down now, and soon there would only be the light from the moon to give them direction.

They’d built the cabin from scratch a few years ago, discarding the old, rotten one and burning it. Mainly their Dads, but Mom had helped, too. It had been a project they’d all been part of, and whilst the boys hadn’t really had anything to do with physically building it, other than handing nails over when asked for, they’d been here from the start. They’d watched the demolition, and they’d seen a sadness on their dads’ faces when it burned. But from that moment on, they’d seen nothing but laughter and love and relaxation from the place. They’d all play games here, or sift the water for gold sometimes. It was family time. Always. And they never came here unless both dads were home.

“They’re right, you know,” Marshall said, as they got closer to their parents. “We’ll always be there for each other, won’t we?” Preston juggled the logs he was carrying. “Like, there will always be two of us.”