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“Yeah, Tucker’s grandpa is going to get the guts out.”
I grimace, and Caleb and Tucker giggle.
I lift my eyes to Langford.
“Pop is cleaning the fish. The boys want to camp in a tent with him tonight and have an old-fashioned fish fry.”
“Can I, Mom?” Caleb asks.
“Please,” Tucker adds to the pleading.
I can’t believe my son is standing before me begging to go camping.
“If it’s okay with Hilton, it’s okay with me,” I tell them, and the boys cheer before scurrying out of the office to find Hilton.
“Thank you for taking him along with you guys today,” I tell Langford.
“The boys had a ball. He’s welcome to fish with us anytime,” he assures me.
He leaves to help the boys set up the campsite, and I call Mom to ask her to bring Caleb an overnight bag.
When she arrives, I have her fetch my son, and the three of us have a sit-down in the break room.
“Caleb, I need to talk to you about next week,” I start.
He smiles.
“Your dad called, and he wants to know if you’d like to go to Cabo with him.”
He wrinkles his forehead. “What about the picnic and fireworks?” he asks.
“You’d have to miss those.”
“Are you going to come to the beach?” he asks.
“No, buddy. It would just be you and Dad.”
He frowns.
“We’ve never gone anywhere by ourselves before,” he states.
It’s true. Other than an occasional father and son golf outing with friends, Damon never spent one-on-one time with Caleb. It was always the three of us.
“I know, but it could be fun. Just the two of you. You could show him your new fishing skills,” I encourage.
I can see the indecision in his eyes.
“I wanted to watch the fireworks with Tucker and Chris,” he mumbles.
I was looking forward to watching them with him as well, but I don’t let the disappointment show. I know this decision is hard enough for him to make.
“It’s up to you. You don’t have to go, but if you do want to go with your dad, I promise that we’ll have a picnic and shoot some fireworks of our own at the farm when you get back, and we’ll invite your friends,” Mom tells him.
“So, Dad will bring me back here?”
“Of course he will,” I assure him.
He sighs. “Okay, I’ll go with Dad,” he says with a hint of sadness.
It sucks to watch him struggle between letting his father down and staying to enjoy something new with the friends he’s made. What a mess we’ve made of his life.
“Can I go back to the tent now?” he asks.
“Yes. I’ll call your dad and get everything set up. You go enjoy your night.”
He hurries out the door, and I slump in my chair.
“It will be okay,” Mom tells me.
“I know. It just sucks,” I tell her as I take my phone and text Damon, saying Caleb wants to join him on vacation and ask him to fly into Knoxville so I can bring Caleb to meet him at the airport.
“Do you have plans tonight?” Mom asks.
“I don’t.”
“Do you want to spend the evening with your mother?” she asks.
“Sure. What do you have in mind?” I ask.
“I was thinking of having a baking party. I’ll call Sara-Beth, and you can invite your new friends,” she suggests.
“I’m in,” Erin calls from her desk.
“Wonderful. Tell the other girls,” Mom shouts.
“On it,” Erin replies.
“I guess it’s a date,” I tell Mom.
She stands. “I’ll head to the market and get all the supplies. We’ll have wine and a charcuterie tray and get all the baking we need to get done for the Independence Day picnic.”
“Aha! You’re using us as slave labor,” I muse.
“I’m providing you with wine and snacks—that’s compensation,” she says as she heads to the door.
She stops at Erin’s desk. “The more, the merrier. Seven o’clock.”
“We’ll be there,” Erin confirms.
