Page 118 of In a Word, Yes

He cups my chin. “What if it’s wonderful?”

Epilogue

“Hey, Pops. Can I help?”

It’s a bluebird November morning in La Pine State Park, another recreational paradise I’m getting to experience for the first time. This one’s less than an hour from Charity Falls.

Already Dad has the beginnings of a campfire going. He’s wearing a buffalo plaid fleece hat with earflaps just like the one he got for Chase. When his grandson wakes up, they’ll be twinning. S’cute I can hardly stand it!

“Hey, tiger.”

I hand my father a log. He positions it on the fire, igniting crackles and sending up bright sparks.

“Just like old times. The two early risers. Boy, I sure loved our camping trips, all you kids smudged and dirty and happy.”

I know he’s referring to back when we were a family of five, because the camping trips ended after Mikey’s passing.

“A lot has happened since then.”

A slow nod. “But some things never change. Like thieving chipmunks.” He gestures to one of the striped critters waiting in the wings for something edible to appear.

“I’ll put the kettle on,” I say.

“Already done. Pour yourself a cup of something warm.”

I settle into a camp chair while my father continues poking at the fire. Getting it just right.

“Does my heart good to see you so”—his voice cracks—“to see how well you’ve managed to ... to know you’re going to be okay.”

I cradle my cup in both hands. “More than okay, Pops. I’m dirt-smudged and happy.”

We merge into the silence. The fire pops.

“So much for quiet,” he says minutes later. “Here comes the queen of the sleepyheads.”

My mother emerges from their one-room cabin, huddled inside a faded blue quilt. Is that...? It’s the same old quilt that always appeared from nowhere at family picnics.

“Whose brilliant idea was it to freeze our tushies off in a forest?” Mom’s breath comes out in clouds of vapor.

She takes the chair next to me and tucks some of her blanket over me. “What’s your secret, Lu?”

“Two pairs of socks.”

Dad hands her a steaming mug.

“Knight in shining armor, that’s what you are, babe.”

“I married a princess, that’s for darn sure.”

***

Carly

This is precious. Lucy and me under the blue blanket. Roger fiddling with the campfire like old times.

After a minute, Lucy tightens her gaze. Scrutinizes my forehead. Have I got food on my face?

She reaches up, brushes her fingers along my hairline. “What’s this? There’s a little divot here. I never noticed that before.”