Page 135 of Buckin' Around

“Used to. A lifetime ago. Brades was the only person who didn’t expect something from me. We had so much fun here. I wish you could have come here in the summer.”

“This is perfect, cowboy.” The words are so soft.

We park and push from the truck. I wander to the waterline, weaving my way through the old trees that stand around like old friends catching up.

The cool breeze finds me before rippling over the water.

Fire. We need a fire.

An old firepit made from rocks in a circle sits to my right. I make my way around the trees and gather up firewood. When I make it back to the firepit, Spence has Ivy set up on the blanket. The picnic basket sits in the center as her grabby hands pull out everything we brought.

He chuckles. “Slow down, kiddo.”

Dumping the wood into the center of the pit, I cross the soft swaying grass to the blanket and sink down beside Ives. “Hey baby, you hungry?”

“Think that’s the understatement of the century.” Spencer is walking for the truck. I hand Ives her snack box and she inhales the lot, leaving stains on her mouth and cheeks. He comes back with matches and a small cooler I didn’t realize he brought.

Ten minutes later, flames are crackling away. We’ve moved the blanket a little closer and caught Ives toddling toward the firepit three times.

We need a distraction . . .

I remember the satchel of her toys I tossed in on a whim before we left. “Hold her, will you?”

Spencer lays down on one side, tossing his hat to the blanket, and swings his arm around her, toppling her over. Giggles drift up as he blows raspberries on her belly with a ridiculous growl.

I jog for the truck and grab out the satchel. Inside, I have Mr. Fluffy, of course, a ball, ring toss, and the one thing I came over for—bubbles.

A large wand is submerged in the transparent pink tube. I shoulder the bag and unscrew the top.

“Ivy baby,” I singsong.

She rolls out of Spencer’s hold and pushes to her feet, her little hand in her mouth.

Raising the wand, I blow a stream of bubbles over her head. Wonder lights up her face as she reaches for them.

“Come on, bubba. Let’s play in the grass.”

I walk to the field and into the warm sunshine as Ivy follows. The grass is up to her belly, and she swats it as she walks. I chuckle, lifting the wand. “Catch them, sweet girl.”

Taking a long, soul-refreshing inhale, I blow out a long belt of bubbles as I turn on the spot. Ives toddles as fast as her little wobbly legs will go, grabbing for them.

She topples over and disappears into the grass, and I wait for her to right herself. Our girl will be independent if it kills me.

As it surely will.

She bobs up from the grass, her light hair lit by the sunshine, the high lilt of her giggles echoing through the trees. Moving fast, she closes in on me. I dip the wand and blow bubbles as I pick up my pace and skip through the field.

As her steps slow, I let her catch up. Swinging her up onto my hip, I give her the closed bubble tube to hold. She shakes it, telling it, “Dad, dad, dad.”

“Let’s see what Daddy is doing. You hungry still?”

We all know the answer to that one.Always.

Spencer is poking at the fire when we make it back. Ivy rubs her eyes, scrambling for Mr. Fluffy before huddling up in my lap.

The food is laid out in the center. Sandwiches. Crackers and Dip. Crudités with hummus. Some kind of chicken salad I’ve never seen him make before. It all looks so delicious. My stomach rumbles as Spence returns to the blanket and sits by me.

“Someone’s hungry,” he says with a chuckle.