5
Marcus
The next evening I’m sitting on top of the picnic table, my elbows resting on my knees, pretending to watch children wade in the shallow end of the lake. I’m definitely not staring at Lily’s camp counselor’s ass in a blue bikini that should be forbidden in front of children. Maybe it should be outlawed in front of virile, healthy males over the age of thirty like myself.
My phone rings in my pocket and surprise, surprise, it’s Dane.
“Where are you?” I ask.
Camp was over ten minutes ago, but I guess the counselors got delayed, or maybe they wanted to torture the single dads by forcing us to witness fit, wet twenty-somethings play in the water.
Vic should be assigning them generic black one-piece swimsuits.
“I’m almost there. Can you grab Toby? You’re on the emergency list.”
