looks toward the water, like she’s looking for Wilbur. “When I took him swimming this morning, he paddled right out to where the other duck was. They had a little conversation, and he followed her right around the corner.” I shrug. “I’m pretty sure it was love at first sight.” I grin at Abigail again, and she rolls her eyes at me.
“So he’s gone?” Mitchell asks, his voice small.
“For now.” But I’m really not sure if he’s going to come back or not. I hope he does, and yet I hope he doesn’t.
“We could go look for him,” Mitchell says hopefully as he kicks at a rock with his shoe.
“You want to walk down to the lake and see if we can find him?” I glance at my watch. “It’s almost bath time.”
Mitchell glances around the campsite. “Where do you take a bath?”
I shrug again. “In the lake most nights. Or you can go take a shower at the bath house, but the water there isn’t always warm.”
“They should really find a handyman to work on that,” Abigail says with a grin.
“I know, right?” I could have already fixed it, but the Jacobsons haven’t considered it to be a priority, since the season is officially over. It just runs out of hot water quickly. All it needs is possibly replacing an element, or at worst a bigger water heater. Right now, this time of year, it really isn’t a problem.
“So can we go take a bath in the lake?” Mitchell dances in place, which makes Abigail laugh.
“I guess we could. We need to go see if Wilbur is there, anyway.” I raise my brows at Abigail. “Do you have a swimsuit, Ms. Marshall?” I waggle said brows. “Care to join us?”
“I actually do not have a swimsuit here. But I’ll walk down with you.” She looks me in the eye. “I’m kind of worried about Wilbur, if you want to know the truth. I know you love that little duck.”
I do love that little duck, but he needs to have a happy life of his own, one where he can be a duck. “I feel confident that the new lady duck in his life is going to fall madly in love with him right away, and they’re going to be a little ducky family.” I set my hand on top of Mitchell’s head, and he immediately tips it back to stare up at me. He grins.
“So can we go?” he asks.
“We’ll need to change clothes.”
He dashes toward the tent and begins to pull things—everything—from his bag. He tosses it piece by piece behind him. When he finds his swimsuit, he holds it up. “Got it!”
“You change first,” I tell him. “Then I’ll go.”
He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “I doubt you’ve got anything I don’t got.” He shrugs. “But whatever.”
My jaw drops. I look over and find Abigail standing with her hand over her mouth, holding back her laughter.
“You think this is funny, huh?” I advance toward her, but she doesn’t move. She stands her ground, even going so far as to lift her hands to lay them on my chest when I grab her and pull her against me.
“You got anything he don’t got?” she asks me.
“I got all sorts of stuff, and if you don’t stop talking about it, you’ll find out exactly what I got.”
She laughs. “Don’t make promises that you don’t intend to keep,” she taunts.
I stare into her eyes. “Oh, I don’t. Not ever.”
She has to be the one who breaks the stare. She looks up when Mitchell comes out in his swimsuit. His scrawny chest is bare. He has little rabbit muscles and I can see his ribs. He looks just like I did at his age, so active that it’s impossible to put any bulk on him.
“Nice trunks,” Abigail says. She gives him a thumbs-up.
“You had better hurry, Dad,” Mitchell warns. He looks up toward the sun. “It’ll be dark soon.”
I go and change, walking back out the same way Mitchell did, with no shirt on. Abigail licks her lips. Her eyes dance across my chest, and I feel them move over me like a physical caress.
“Let’s go, Dad,” Mitchell says. I grab the cake of soap and the shampoo, and I pull two towels off the clothesline.
When we get down to the lake, which is not much more than a short walk, Abigail shields her eyes with her hand to keep the setting sun out of them and looks