“What are you doing again with the tent?” Mom asks me as she follows me out into the garage where Dad is already searching for it.
“Uh, going camping.” What else does she think I’m doing with it?
“Right, but where? And with who?”
“We’re going to Pismo. Staying at Oceano Dunes,” I explain. “And it’s just me and Gracie.”
The look on my mother’s face is nothing short of ecstatic. She’s always known about my preference for casual relationships. It was hard to hide while growing up since she worked for the school district. She’d hear things. Living in a small town, how could she not?
“Is it getting serious with this young woman?” she asks, her brows up, a hopeful expression on her face.
I slowly shake my head. “We’re just friends.”
I can say that truthfully now. I’m not about to push myself on Gracie anyway, especially now. She just went through some trauma, and she took today off from work, which gave me the perfect excuse to swing by my parents’ house after my shift ended to pick up some camping gear.
“Uh huh. You’re not friends with any girls, Caleb,” Mom points out. So helpful.
“I am with this one.” I turn toward her and drop a kiss on her cheek. “Stop trying to make this into something it’s not.”
“If you say so.” Her tone is full of doubt.
I get why she feels this way. This sort of behavior isn’t normal for me. But hey, guess what? Maybe I’m growing up for once in my life.
It’s possible. Stranger things have happened.
“Here’s the tent,” Dad calls from the depths of the garage.
I go to where he’s at, rummaging through all the stuff on one of the many racks he has all of his stuff stashed. I grew up in this house. My parents have never moved, and over the years, they’ve accumulated a ton of shit.
“I appreciate you letting me borrow this,” I say as I pick up the bag the tent is in. It’s a little dusty but not too bad. “When was the last time you went tent camping?”
“Aw, a few years ago with my friends. We went hiking in Yosemite and stayed overnight,” Dad says.
“I don’t tent camp anymore,” Mom says before she bends down and pets one of her cats that just wandered into the garage. “The trailer is it for me. And I can’t remember the last time we went out on the dunes. We probably took you with us so it’s been a while.”
“We always stay at the RV park now,” Dad says, nodding toward the travel trailer sitting out in front of the garage. “Thinking about keeping the trailer there so your mother and I can just drive over for the weekend when we want.”
“Won’t that be expensive?” I ask, glancing at the shelf where he pulled the tent out from. I’d take any other camping equipment he has if he’ll let me.
“Nah, I’ve checked into it. Not as bad as you’d think.” He rifles through a few other items on the shelf before pulling out a couple of sleeping bags. “You need these?”
“Please.”
“Did you make a reservation, Caleb?” Mom asks me. “You know how busy it gets during the summer, even on the weekdays.”
“I did,” I call to her. “Got the email and everything.”
“Don’t forget to print it out before you leave!”
I roll my eyes at Dad. “I can just show the email to them on my phone when I get there.”
“Oh. You’re right.” She laughs at herself. We chuckle too.
Dad drops the sleeping bags on the ground next to the tent before resting his hands on his hips. “What car are you taking?”
“Mine.”
“Out on the beach?” Dad turns to face me. He’s a little shorter than I am, but we resemble each other. Same blue eyes, same mouth. He’s still got a full head of hair, but it’s mostly gray now. He likes to say I gave it to him with all of my antics growing up. “You can’t take that on the beach.”