Beard Necessities (Winston Brothers, #7)(104)
“Hi handsome.” I couldn’t stop my smile. But then, why would I want to?
“Constantine! Get back here and help,” Dulci called to her little brother.
“Did you get the marshmallows?” Constantine was peeking in the bags and had apparently abandoned the tent.
“Yeah, we got all the s’mores stuff.” Trajan set down a cloth sack, pulled out a box of graham crackers, and gave me a smile missing three teeth. “Can we make them now?”
“No, we cannot.” Dulci grabbed the box from his hands and stuffed it back in the sack. “Only one of the tents is set up. Aunt Simone and Uncle Roscoe will be here any minute and I don’t want to be setting up tents when they arrive.”
Dulci was enamored with her Aunt Simone and wanted to become a forensic scientist just like Trajan was enamored with his Uncle Roscoe and wanted to become a veterinarian. Whenever we visited them in Washington, DC, Dulci and Trajan would stay a few days longer and Roscoe would fly them home.
It was so interesting to me how these one-off suggestions and events quickly became family traditions. Two years ago, Simone suggested Dulci and Trajan stay three extra days, and now that’s what they did every time. This Labor Day camping trip was suggested by Sienna seven years ago to ensure the family spent quality time together outside of the hectic Thanksgiving and Christmas seasons. Now it’s what we did every year and it was always the same.
Each family arrived when they could on Friday or Saturday. The kids ran around like wild animals in the forest, swimming in the stream, making forts, and finally showering on either Sunday night or Monday just before we left. Meanwhile, the adults socialized and cooked.
After dinner on the last night, the kids would roast marshmallows around their campfire while the adults gathered around a second campfire. Also on the last night, all the cousins older than six would tent camp with Cletus and Jenn, whereas all the littles would stay at the big house with their parents.
Well, all the littles except our Tiberius and Constantine, and Jenn and Cletus’s little boy, Linus. Our two youngest liked to stay with Beau and Shelley at their place on the lake. I suspected it made them feel special. Tiberius in particular had developed a special bond with Shelly and her parrot. Linus stayed with his parents and all the big kids.
Presently, I followed Billy around the table and batted his hands away as he started to unload the groceries. “Let Bea and me do this. Will you help with the tents?”
“Yep.” Stealing another quick kiss as well as a stealthy stroke, grab, and smack of my backside, Billy marched over to the tents with our kids trailing after, leaving me chuckling at his boldness. I’d pay him back later.
“This is all refrigerator stuff. I’ll take it to the coolers.” Bea peeked inside one of the bags, tucking her long, red hair behind an ear. “Uh oh. Daddy bought hot dogs. I thought Uncle Cletus was coming?”
“He is.” I pulled out the s’mores stuff, intending to put it somewhere out of little hands’ reach. “Hide the hot dogs under the ice so your uncle doesn’t see them. Or, better yet, put them in the camper fridge back at the cabin.”
“When do they get here?” Bea began consolidating all the perishables into two bags. “And when are Ben, Andy, and Pedro coming?”
“Uh, Cletus is coming just before dinner. And Ben, Andy, and Pedro are still in school until three. They didn’t have off today. But your Uncle Jethro should be showing up with firewood any minute.”
“And Uncle Beau and Aunt Shelly?” Bea picked up the two bags. “What about Uncle Duane, Aunt Jess, and Liam?”
“I think around four or five. They’re all visiting with the Wellers, I think. Will you please also bring me the marshmallow roasting sticks from the camper on your way back?”
“Yes, Momma.” Bea knelt in front of one of the coolers.
Meanwhile, I spun in a half circle, ensuring all the picnic tables had tablecloths, paper plates, silverware, napkins, and the like.
“Hey Ash, Bethany,” I hollered to my sister-in-law and niece on the far side of the clearing. The area had been cleared out of trees six summers ago so we could have a big campground. “Do you have everything for those tables? I have plenty of paper plates.”
“We’re good.” Ashley lifted a thumb in the air. “But once Marcus gets back, send him over here. Zander needs help.”
“I do not need help!” My nephew’s stubborn growl erupted from somewhere behind a wonky-looking tent near Ashley’s side.
Even fifty feet away, I caught Ash’s amused glance.
“Give Marcus a chance to help, Zander. You know how he looks up to you,” Billy’s voice, though not raised, was loud and commanding enough to be heard across the clearing.
“Oh. Okay. Sure thing, Uncle Billy,” Zander replied, sounding significantly less frustrated, and both Ashley and I rolled our lips between our teeth in unison.
Marcus and Zander had been born just one week apart, with Zander being older. I’d figured out from watching how Billy interacted with Zander that the best way to get our nephew to do the right thing was to remind him how others were counting on him, looked up to him, needed him.
This was one of my husband’s special gifts. He never raised his voice with our kids or our nieces and nephews. He simply plucked the string within each person that made them want to be their best.