Story: Tender is the Night, after the Epilogue: "And, true to our word, we still visit Yosemite every year, the same third weekend in June."
Couple: Seth and Katie
Notes: You guys have so many good ideas. Coming down the pipeline we've got Karaoke Night, some part twos to chapters, and What the F**k Happened to Jordan Johnson.
The Sixth Third Weekend
Katie
"Are we absolutely insane for doing this?" I say, shutting the back hatch of my SUV.
Seth grins at me, leaning against it. "Maybe," he says. "But I'm really excited. We get to show her one of the most important parts of us."
With a shared lovesick grin, we both look down. Sienna is nestled into the sling on his chest. We have two of them, but he doesn't ever let her go long enough for me to bother with mine.
Seeing Seth be a father is… hot, frankly. He is just the right amount of doting, playful, and protective. If I had a dollar for every time in the last four months he's told me, "Let me take care of her, so you can take care of you," I could afford all the ice baths I need when he sets me on fire. Seeing him holding her, doing their daily skin-to-skin, should not be such a turn-on.
Alas, Postpartum Katie is incredibly attracted to Daddy Seth.
Blinking back into reality, I balance on the sides of my feet, unsteady in more ways than one. "What if she hates it?"
"If she does," Seth says, in that tone of voice he uses specifically to calm me down, "then we'll be four and a half hours away from Lake Tahoe and my mother. And she said she can meet us halfway."
As always, Seth was the one to suggest a solution to my deep-seated fears.
"Hey mom," he said during one of our family dinners about a month ago. "Haven't you and Charlie always wanted to go to Lake Tahoe?" Sunday dinners were usually at Sue and Charlie's but got relocated to our house about a month before Sienna was born. And thank God for that.
"You know what?" Sue said. "We have. Haven't we, honey?" The pat she gave Charlie on the arm landed more like a smack.
"Absolutely," Charlie said, just barely able to hide his grimace behind his beer.
Leah and Adam shared a snicker. Their son Caleb, who's three and a half and along for the ride most of the time, giggled too.
"I hear they have some great deals the third week of June," Leah said. "Is that what you heard, Seth?"
He nodded vigorously, setting his scorching palm on my knee under the table. "I heard exactly that, Leah."
So we're trying it. We're attempting what thousands before us have tried and failed: a thousand-mile road trip with a four-month-old. Flying was out of the question – even if planes weren't cesspools, I wouldn't want to do that to the other passengers. My baby girl has been known to throw a fit or two, and I have no doubt the altitude would get to her little ears. Plus, supposedly there's this four-month sleep regression? I'm sure that will start about the time we pass the Welcome to Yosemite sign.
Sienna smacks her lips loudly and starts squirming against Seth's chest.
"Apparently it's dinnertime," Seth says, winking at me.
Once we're back inside, I get settled on the couch and Seth hands Sienna off to me.
Giving birth severely diminishes your modesty. Nineteen-year-old Katie would never believe I'd be so comfortable as to breastfeed in front of others. Twenty-five-year-old Katie can have an entire conversation while breastfeeding—with direct eye contact.
"Did you pack the formula, just in case?" I say. Sienna usually breastfeeds well, but there are times when she's especially cranky that I just won't do. She likes how warm Seth is. Same, girl. If kids have favorite parents, I am not it. And Seth really enjoys being able to participate.
He nods as he starts pulling the last of our leftovers from the fridge. (And I know, in a week and a half, he will restock it, too.) "If you can think it, I packed it." He pauses, leaning a hip against the counter, and my heart splutters in my chest at just how freakin' hot he looks. "Katie, baby," he says. "It will be fine. I promise."
In the interest of not jinxing us, I refuse to say this is going smoothly. We split the drive into two days initially, with the understanding that flexibility was going to be a necessity. We stopped at a Hampton Inn in Roseburg last night, and within three minutes of laying down Sienna was asleep.
Today, aside from one blowout fifteen minutes after we checked out of the hotel, our luck seems to be carrying. Sienna isn't teething and she doesn't experience much gas, so there's no need for me to have this much anxiety. I thought if we made it here without incident, I'd feel better. But the closer we get, the more it ratchets up.
What if she does hate it? What if I'm forced to choose between spending time in nature, doing what I love, and spending time with my daughter? No matter what I choose, I'll feel like a bad mom. If I stay home with her, I'm showing her she comes first, even before myself, and what kind of example is that? I always want her to choose herself. But if I go, leave her home with Leah or Sue, I will be half of myself without her. She is my whole heart.
Seth reaches over and grabs my hand, rubbing his thumb across it to quiet my blaring thoughts. "Almost there," he says. We're gaining elevation now, passing pull-offs and vista points. When the GPS tells us to make a turn, my pulse spikes higher.
The last few years, we've always parked further inland, nearer to the valley, and hiked wherever we wanted to go. This year we are driving straight to the parking lot outside the backpackers' camp, limiting ourselves to hikes that can be done in half a day at most. Our tent was due for replacing anyway, so we bit the bullet and upgraded to a family-size one. Seth will, I'm sure, appreciate the legroom.
We park the car in an overnight spot nearest to the campground, and I settle Sienna against my chest in a sling, so Seth can do some of the heavier lifting.
I frown as he closes and locks the car, a few things still inside. "We'll have to take another trip."
He reaches over and pokes at the corner of my mouth until it flips right side up. "We've been in the car for almost twelve hours. I would gladly take five trips."
"We're losing light," I say.
"My night vision's not too bad," he says back, jokingly.
"We should have called your mom." I fumble for my phone in my back pocket. "I don't know if the reception will reach once we—"
He shuts me up with a kiss. "Katie Kat," he murmurs against my mouth, his hands rubbing my shoulders, which are somehow tenser than his despite him having the heavy packs. He pulls back and straightens. "Look at me."
I crane my neck, looking up into the chocolate irises that bring me so much comfort.
He holds my gaze until I relax beneath his touch, and he places a kiss against my forehead. "Give it one night. If you both hate it, or if it's too much, we'll go meet mom in Lake Tahoe tomorrow morning. Or we can drive right back to Washington."
I snort, despite my nose stinging with tears. "You'd do that for me?"
"In a heartbeat," he says. Sienna gurgles between us, and he leans down to kiss her, too. "Now let's go. I can hear Kenny cursing from here."
Joey sees us first. "Hey guys!" he calls, standing with a wide grin on his face.
Sierra hops up next, her dog Marnie hot on her heels. "Jesus, what, did you all pack for a month?"
As Seth starts to drop our bags at the spot they've left for us, she reaches for an excited hug. It's only when I stop short that she notices the human I am carrying. "Katie."
"For the record," Seth says, "I really wanted to name her Sierra Paige, but I couldn't convince Katie."
Everyone is on their feet now, and they crowd around me. Us. "This is Sienna." I pull her from her sling, and she stirs awake, having nodded off during the short walk.
"How old is she?" Joey says, running a hand over the black fuzz on her head.
"Four months next week," I say.
"Best souvenir we ever brought back," Seth adds cheekily, and stoops to kiss my hair.
Kenny gawks. "She was—here? Right here?" He points at the ground, shifting on his feet like he's uncomfortable. Sometimes, during our late-night feedings, when Seth and I were both giddy with exhaustion, we'd try to mimic Kenny's Australian accent. We failed every time because we were laughing so hard.
I grin, coming more into myself with every lungful of magic Yosemite air. "Actually, I think last year we were there," I say, pointing to Kenny's tent.
The group laughs, and we start our hello in earnest.
Seth and Joey do their bro-clap thing. "Where's Paige?" Seth asks.
Joey grins. "She should be back soon. She just took—"
"Oh my God," another distinctive Australian voice exclaims. There she is. Paige breaks her way into our circle, also sporting a baby. "I thought I was going to be the only one."
I laugh. "Sienna, meet Paige and…" I trail off.
"Grayson," Joey offers, the pride in his tone impossible to miss.
"I just took him to the dunny," Paige says.
At my confusion, Joey laughs. "The bathroom," he interjects. "He needed the assistance of running water."
Reed offers to help Seth grab the rest of the stuff from the car, and I sit down in between Paige and Sierra and start to catch up with them.
"How was Claire?" I say firstly, to Sierra.
Claire Young has been through the ringer. She lost her mother to cancer back in April, and the poor girl took off a day after the funeral. She wound up in San Diego. It just so happened to be where Sierra and Reed call home base. We never call in favors from Yosemite friends, so they knew it was serious when I called and asked them to look out for her.
"I'm worried about her," Sierra says, reaching for her beer. "I've never met the girl and I could tell she was broken. We did everything we could, but…" She shrugs and takes a heavy sip. "Sometimes nothing helps but time. And that takes its time, doesn't it?"
Paige grabs a blanket from their tent and spreads it on the ground, setting Grayson down on it. I do the same with Sienna, and I can tell she's glad to be able to stretch her legs. I play with her toes.
Paige and I discuss pregnancy and childbirth, and Kenny looks about ready to barf the entire time.
I turn my attention to Joey next, who's taken up residence on the other side of Paige. "You got me a job with National Geographic."
His cheeks turn a shade of pink as he nurses his beer. "I just got your photos in front of the right people."
He can keep his humility today. "Thank you," I say simply.
"Well, they have to fall in love now, don't they?" Seth says, having rejoined our circle. The sound of his voice makes my heart swell. Makes me want nightfall to come, and Sienna to fall asleep. Thanks to parenthood, we can have sex really quiet now.
When I follow Seth's gaze, he's got it trained on the blanket, where Grayson and Sienna are sharing a toy with a lot more kindness than should be expected from someone who can't hold their head up for more than ten seconds at a time.
"We can arrange it all now," Paige says. "Would you like one cow or two pigs?"
I surprise even myself when Sienna gets hungry again, and I don't excuse myself to the tent now assembled behind us. It's dark enough, with the glow from the fire casting shadows on everyone, that I don't feel exposed. I'm more myself here than I usually am, among nature and friends, and Seth—always with Seth.
He sits behind me, letting me recline against him as Sienna curls against me. The heat of him at my back, the soft voices from our campsite and others, lull me into a soft sleep.
Seth
Seven adults, two babies, and a dog. It sounds like the butt of a joke. It might be, by the end of the weekend.
Actually, things are going pretty great, in my opinion. We all wake up early the next morning and go fishing, something I haven't made enough time for since my dad died.
I wear Sienna on my chest as I cast and reel, and Katie surprises me when she catches the biggest one of the day. I should know better than to underestimate her. I am both consistently surprised by her, and not surprised at all.
It's in the way she's taken so naturally to motherhood, knowing what Sienna needs before I even recognize something's wrong. Like just now, when Katie brings over a hat for her, just as the sun appears from the clouds. She does stuff like that for me, too, when she brings me a beer just as I'm finishing mine off.
I swear, sometimes I look at her and my insides melt like butter. You can't convince me a more perfect person has ever existed. Except—except maybe the little girl who looks more like her mother every day.
Despite Katie's claims that I am a great father, I don't know what I'm doing most of the time. Sure, there's the routine of it, the feeding and burping and changing and bathing and rocking to sleep, the way Sienna cries differently when she's hungry versus hurt.
And there was that time, just last week, when she finally smiled back at me and a few of my tears fell on her face and scared her.
(Okay, that was funny.)
But I just take my lead from Katie, trust that if we love each other as hard as we'd want this little girl to be loved, then just maybe we'll be okay.
"Can I hold your baby, then?" Kenny says, after his thirtieth cast comes up empty. "So I can be of some use to someone."
I set down my rod and unbuckle Sienna, handing her over.
"Right, little love," Kenny says. "Let's you and me go look at all the fish that are too smart to be caught."
Arms I instantly recognize as Katie's wrap around my torso. "I love you," she murmurs into my spine.
"I love you more," I say, leaving my rod unattended so I can turn and kiss my wife. Her face is glowing the way it always does here, in this magical air. I run my thumb over the small bump on her upper arm. "How long are we keeping this in?"
She rolls her eyes good naturedly. "I'd prefer to have a little recovery time."
"We both know you're fully recovered." Or is she? "I didn't—did I hurt you? Last night when I—"
"Seth," Katie laughs. "Nothing hurts. It was—great." She flushes. I bite down on a grin. Yeah, it was. It was great for her three times, if I remember correctly.
"I'd just prefer to have one baby sleeping through the night before we even consider another," she says.
Joey leans into our little bubble. "Grayson started sleeping through the night at eight weeks."
I shove his head away, then look back down at Katie. "You're right. You're always right. And I absolutely loved having an older sister boss me around."
"Oh, they do that no matter how far apart you are," she says, but she's wearing her contemplative face, her brows pinching in the center of her forehead. "Maybe when she's three?"
Three? Three more years of waiting to see Katie swollen and glowing again? "Eighteen months," I counter. "She'll be almost two and a half by the time he's born."
"He? Are you so sure?"
I nod emphatically. "Sure that you make my dreams come true? Absolutely yes. Just look at you."
She smiles, and the sun gets brighter. "It comes out on her second birthday and not a day before."
"Deal," I say. I would have given her three if that's what she needed, but I'm never going to be upset at more pieces of Katie entering the world. And making the babies ain't half bad, either.
A new sound enters the air, and I watch Katie's eyes go wide as she comprehends it, even though she's never heard it. We turn in tandem to look over at Kenny and Sienna.
He's holding her firmly, so just her toes dangle in the water, and splashing her around. And she's laughing for the first time ever. I'll give it to her. Kenny is funny-looking.
Katie gasps, her hand covering her mouth. "I love it," she whispers. "She's so perfect."
I wipe my palm across my eyes, wrapping myself around Katie. "She gets it from her mother."
