How could I scold him when he was voluntarily helping his sister?
Quinn leaned into me. “I’ll help Ella get dressed.”
“You’re good kids.” I kissed them on top of their heads.
“Even when we’re stealing pancakes?”
“Even then. Now go. Tammy’ll be here soon!”
Bethany danced past me with a laundry basket as I brought the stacks of pancakes to the table, singing “Walking on Sunshine” at the top of her voice. I shook my head but couldn’t stop myself from joining in as I set the table.
Filled stomachs and a family-wide search for Charlie’s elusive life vest later—finally located in the bottom drawer of her desk—we were all packed into our van and on our way to the paddling club. As Quinn’s playlist filled the van, groans rose from Julian. “Why are we playing Quinn’s list when they’re wearing noise reduction headphones?”
“Because it’s their Saturday,” Evan said in his no-nonsense dad voice from the driver’s seat.
Julian harrumphed but soon joined the little ones—and Tammy—in singing along all the way to the club. We made quick work of our unloading, retrieving boats, and life-vest checks routine, and were out on the lake by ten. Julian, as always, was the first in the water, goading Evan into racing him. Tammy and Quinn took off in a tandem kayak, while Bethany and I followed them in the canoe with the little ones.
Alex and Charlie entertained Ella with an elaborate tale about coffee machines that were secretly wizards. Bethany almost lost her paddle laughing, leaving me to try and keep the canoe steady. Our kids had a healthy imagination, to say the least.
The canoe rocked, and Charlie screamed, “Mom!”
Which only made Bethany laugh harder.
“You okay, Beth?” Evan called out, panting as he chased Julian.
“I’m fine,” she replied, hiccupping. “The kids are making up fairytales about Sam’s Gandalf.”
Evan gained on Julian. “Must be Saturday then.”
Yup. Just another Saturday out on the water. I breathed in the lake air and silently cheered Julian as he reached the midpoint about a nose length ahead of Evan.
“Who’s Gandalf?” Ella asked.
“Pop’s favorite coffee machine at work,” said Alex.
“Coffee makes coffee with a Coffeesheen.”
“He does. But… this coffee is magical.” Alex continued building the tale of his coffee machine wizard, with Charlie filling in.
They were fun to listen to.
Ella pulled at my shirt. “Coffee? Do you make magical coffee?”
It was hard not to chuckle. “Not like the wizard in Charlie and Alex’s story. But I think coffee is always magical, little bean.”
“But it smells yuck.”
We were all more than happy she thought so. Julian had nagged us about having coffee for years… until he took his first sip at twelve, scrunched up his face, and declared smelling it was better.
“The wizard’s magical coffee smells like rainbows,” Alex said with a big grin.
“Rainbows and spun sugar,” Charlie added.
I held my breath for Ella to ask what rainbows smelled like, but she seemed engrossed in Charlie and Alex’s evolving story. I let the sounds of Saturday settle around me—paddles slicing through the water, birds chirping overhead, and children chatting and giggling—as we glided across the lake with the sun on our faces. These were the days I lived for.
We stopped for lunch on the other side of the lake, after which the kids played tag in the grass as we soaked up the sun on a picnic blanket with iced tea.
“So…” Bethany leaned forward, as if she didn’t want the kids to hear. “You’ve avoided the subject long enough. Who is this Adri Quinn keeps talking about?”
