We Have Till Monday

“It’ll be the first thing I’ll tell him,” I joked. In reality, their good-natured rivalry about Mediterranean cooking was only on my mind when I got to sample the food. But considering Camden and I hadn’t seen August in almost two weeks now, my priorities looked a lot different.

It happened a couple times a year when August traveled to his restaurants to create new menus and show his face. Life was busy, and we couldn’t always tag along. Like this time. But we were flying out to meet up with him as he wrapped up this tour, and we were gonna spend the weekend in LA before road-trippin’ to Nashville for some downtime.

After we’d locked up, said our goodbyes, and I’d gotten my squishy hug from Hannah, Camden and I grabbed our bags and got into a cab.

“JFK,” I said.

Camden snuck his hand into mine, and I brought it to my lips and kissed his fingers.

“Excited to see Daddy?”

He nodded. “But I’m gonna miss all the takeout.”

I laughed. It was true—when Camden and I were left to our own devices, we ordered a lot of takeout.

We were pros at hiding the evidence, thankfully. Although, August had his suspicions sometimes.

Camden slid onto the middle seat and lifted my arm to snuggle his way up my chest, and I hugged him to me.

“Sweet boy. I love you.”

“Love you ten thousand times that,” he yawned. “Can you scratch my head, please?”

“Of course.”

I had a feeling he’d be asleep before we’d left the runway. I still hadn’t gotten used to flying in business class, so I was the person who took full advantage and wanted my blanket, my sleep mask, my shitty earbuds, and free beer.

When they came around with free snacks…?

Madonn’. I wouldn’t miss that for anything. Much like everything else these days.

Well, there was one thing. I felt no need to enter another of August’s giveaways, because I’d already won the biggest prize. The best love in the galaxy, to use Camden’s words, and a life free of oatmeal.