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“I’m not kidding,” Bishop says, coming up next to me, his voice dipping. “It’s bad enough that I’ve had to deal with mom and dad before. Do you know how horrible it would be for me to be sharing a tent with them and hear you two assholes moaning?” He makes a gagging noise.
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry,” I tell him. Then I give him a little grin. “I’ll make sure she’s quiet.”
Bishop laughs and gives me a shove, then helps me set up my two-person tent.
* * *
“I think this is the most s’morey week I’ve ever had in my life,” Ruby says, her hands on her tiny little belly once she’s finished off her third graham cracker, marshmallow, and chocolate treat of the night.
“If you get sick tonight, just make sure you get out of the tent first,” Busy warns her. “We had an incident two years ago, and let me promise you, lugging a tent that reeks of vomit down the mountain as it bakes in the sun tomorrow will not be a fun thing to do.”
Everyone laughs except for Bellamy, who sits with her arms crossed and a glare on her face.
“You try not getting sick after eating Bishop’s undercooked brats,” she declares, eyeing our brother. “I still think he did it on purpose.”
It takes only that little memory to stir up one of the twins’ arguments, and I take that as my cue to take a leak before we all start rolling off to bed.
We had an amazing time this evening, much better than I can remember on the few times I did this hike years ago. Campfire games like Winking Assassin and Charades become surprisingly more ridiculous when you’re an adult, and we had a great time playing Bullshit with the decks of cards Busy brought along.
My favorite, though, was a new idea Briar had about having to earn your s’more. All of us wrote funny little tasks on pieces of paper and put them into dad’s hat, and then we each drew one out and had to do what it said before we were allowed to have dessert.
Busy had to pretend to Riverdance for twenty seconds and mom had to create a tower out of playing cards that wouldn’t fall over, but nothing was more satisfying than seeing Bishop pull out the slip of paper he himself had added to the pile.
I won’t ever forget what it’s like to listen to him sing Whitney Houston’s I Will Always Love You at the top of his lungs.
When I return to the fire after going to the bathroom at the little outhouse stationed up here, I find everyone packing up and tucking things away in their tents to head to bed.
“It feels early to go to sleep,” Ruby says, looking at the time on her phone.
It makes sense that she’s confused—it’s only eight—but we’re heading out for Kilroy Peak at four, and that’s after we’ve packed everything.
“Gotta get up crazy early,” I tell her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and kissing the top of her head. “But we don’t have to go right to sleep. This isn’t sleepaway camp—there’s no designated lights out.”
Ruby giggles.
It’s amazing how quickly that sound has become intrinsic to my very being, how imperative it is for me to hear that tinkling fall from between her lips.
Unable to help myself, I dip down and kiss the laugh right off her, loving how it feels when she opens her mouth, her little tongue stroking soft and wet against mine.
“Alright, you two. Time for bed.”
I flip Bishop off then follow everyone else’s lead, packing up my chair and helping to do some of the harder cleanup work tonight so we aren’t trying to do it all in the morning.
Once the entire campground is picked up with only a few items left outside the tents, we all turn in for the night.
The tent I’m sharing with Ruby is small, but that’s ideal for the two of us. We took a moment earlier and zipped our sleeping bags together to make one large bed big enough for two.
Slipping our shoes off and tucking them into a corner pocket, Ruby and I stretch out on the somewhat comfortable softness of the sleeping bags, the warmth of the late summer evening lingering enough for us to lay on top. I click on the tiny battery-powered light that hangs down from the middle.
“Are you sleeping in your clothes or stripping down?” I ask.
In the past, I’ve just slept in what I wore for the hike, figuring it can’t hurt my body to wear the same thing for two days.
“Um…stripping down?” she replies, the words coming out as a question. “Or should I not do that?”
“You should absolutely do that.”
Ruby hears the teasing innuendo in my voice, and instead of taking her clothes off, she flops down and stretches out, gazing up at me with adoring eyes.
