Page 65 of Van Cort

TWELVE YEARS LATER

The boys tore off, racing from the music room and down onto the lawn, their bubbling laughter chasing them.

“We’ll be in the second boat. It’s not a race.”

“Yes, it is, Mom!” Preston called back.

Their mom didn’t understand. Everything was a race between them. And now, finally, they were getting to take the boat over to the island alone. It meant one of them could steer. And Preston wanted it to be him.

Marshall had been born first. It was only by ten minutes, but it might as well have been ten years with the way he treated Preston. He always boasted about being the big brother. They were twins, though, the same regardless of age, so Preston flung all of his might into his legs and raced harder.

“I want to steer, Marshall,” he panted, shoving him in the shoulder.

They both swerved with their momentum carrying them.

“So do I!”

Marshall barged Preston back, and they kept knocking each other off course, back and forth, until they arrived at the boathouse in a mass of limbs, half out of breath, half laughing.

Preston didn’t stop, though. He jumped into the boat to secure his spot next to the motor, a triumphant smile erupting over his face.

Conceding, Marshall set about untying the ropes. “Fine. I get to steer on the way back, though.”

Both of them were capable of handling the boat now. They’d seen both dads doing it plenty of times leading up to this point. But Dad West had always been out here with them more. He seemed to love the outdoors more than Dad Rhett.

Preston pulled the chord and the smell of gas plumed in the confined space until he set them out onto the water.

Fresh, chilled air hit them as they left the shallow water, not yet warmed from the late spring sun.

It was their favourite time of year. The snow had melted, and they could go explore in the woods and visit the island.

They’d been going there for the last few years and would argue about who would steer the boat every time.

And Mom didn’t like the idea of either of them on the water alone, so one of the dads - who knew who - must have convinced her this time. Or both of them.

As they made the familiar trip over the water, the little jetty came into view. And with it, another boat already moored.

“I knew it was too good to be true,” Marshall grumbled.

Preston savoured the small win, hoping Marshall would get the same satisfaction on the return journey. “At least we did it on our own this time.” He lined up the boat and eased the throttle so the boat coasted in.

“Dad, why are you here?” Marshall called, as they saw Dad West walking towards them.

“I didn’t want to miss all the fun with you two.”

“I thought we’d have our first time on the island ourselves before you came later with Mom.”

“Mom and Dad will be along soon. He’s almost home. Family time, remember?”

Marshall jumped out of the boat first and handed the rope off to Dad West to secure it, grumbling to himself some more. Preston followed, and they resumed their race off towards the shore, both ignoring their dad left on the jetty.

Preston took the higher ground immediately, searching the edge of the forest and collecting a long stick to turn into a sword.

His brother needed no encouragement and picked up his own weapon to race after him.

They duelled back and forth, running this way and that, and repeating the pattern they were happy to follow.

The island used to be their dads’ special place.

That’s what they’d been told, anyway. It used to be theirs, but now it belonged to a new set of twins.

It deserved to be used and explored, to have fun laid on its shoreline, according to Dad Rhett.

Preston looked at the two backpacks set against the front stoop of the cabin and stopped. “What’s all the stuff for?” he called back to Dad West.

“Camping. We thought it was time to christen this place with an overnight stay.”

The twins looked at each other, a frown furrowing their brows. “All of us?”

“All of us. I told you Mom and Dad are joining us.”

“Where will you guys sleep? The cabin isn’t big enough for everyone,” Marshall questioned.

“Sure it is, but I pitched a tent for you guys anyway. We’ll take the cabin. We didn’t think you’d—”

“Thanks, Dad!” they both yelled, as they hurtled off to find the tent.

Sure enough, behind the cabin, in the small clearing that served as a garden of sorts, was a domed tent, all ready. “Cool.” Marshall’s assessment echoed Preston’s thoughts.

***

“Boys?” Their mom’s voice sounded from outside the tent, before she pulled the zip and poked her head through the front. “I hear this is where you’ve been hiding out.” She eyed the bedrolls and sleeping bags they’d lined up.

“Yep. We’re all set,” Marshall bragged.

“Very nice. It will get cold, though. So, make sure you wrap up, and you’ll need to keep both these closed.” They both rolled their eyes.

“We know. Dad’s already been through it with us.”

“Okay. Well, did you want to help them with the fire? They’ve planned a little cookout and we’ve got s’mores, too.”

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 from the 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.”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t we be?” Preston didn’t know what Marshall was talking about. Twins were twins. Nothing was right unless the other one was there somehow. “Never getting rid of me.”

Marshall grumbled and kicked some pebbles across at him. “Whatever.” But they both smiled.

“Where have you been?” Mom shouted. “The s’mores are ready.”

“No time for that,” Dad Rhett said as he got up. “We’ve got a ball game to play.” The boys both looked at each other.

“In the dark?”

“It’s barely dark. Besides you two should be able to feel where you are by now.” Dad West chuckled about something and picked up a ball, kissing their mom’s hand, before both dads began running with it and throwing it to each other.

Dropping their logs onto the pile, the boys sprinted after their fathers.

Laughter echoed between them all, as their dads cut in to catch the ball from them easily.

It didn’t take long for one of them to lift Preston up and swing him around, and before much longer, Marshall was in the other dad’s arms, and they were all splashing and crashing around in the shallow part of the foreshore.

Dad West left at some point, and for the first time in a long time, the boys just played in the water with Dad Rhett.

They ducked him, and he ducked them. And then he somehow managed to lift them both and wade back to the shore, with both of them laughing and giggling about some made-up story that he was talking about.

They didn’t know what. Didn’t care either.

It was just a moment. A moment that showed them what they already knew about Dad Rhett.

He might have been stern, but once work was over and he’d been back a while, he relaxed.

He became fun again. More fun than Dad West sometimes.

By the time they got back, more s’mores were ready, and both boys sat and devoured all the chocolatey goodness. It dripped from their fingers, stuck their tongue to the roof of their mouth, but neither of the boys stopped until the last one was nearly gone.

“Enough chocolate for you?” Mom asked, as Preston munched through the gooey mess he’d made.

“Umm hmm.”

“That’s all, though. It’s not my fault you stuffed everything in between one cracker. You two will never get to sleep tonight.” She shook her head, but had a smile on her lips as she took another sip of her drink.

They both looked at Dad West as he got up and went into the cabin. “Who wants hamburgers?”

“Hamburgers after s’mores?” Marshall asked.

Dad Rhett chuckled. “Hmm.” He shrugged his shoulders. “We can do whatever we like here. Including eating backwards if we want.” Mom laughed beside him and reached her hand over to hold his.

“You promise? That we can always do whatever we want here?” Marshall looked at Preston and then at their parents.

Both dads looked at each other, and Preston wondered if they still felt that odd feeling, like the shadow of a feeling he had about what Marshall was thinking. Maybe it was a twin thing, but perhaps it was a Van Cort thing.

“We promise.”

THE END