Dad Camp by Evan S. Porter

Author:Evan S. Porter [Evan S. Porter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Family Life, General, Humorous, Coming of Age
ISBN: 9780593474402
Google: K6jXEAAAQBAJ
Amazon: 0593474406
Publisher: Dutton
Published: 2024-06-10T23:00:00+00:00

••• Letters Home •••

Booker

Mom,

You read the name on the envelope right. It’s me, Book. No really, it is.

I know, I know, you don’t believe it. All I’ve sent you the past few years are hastily jotted emails with hurried grammar, “Sent from my iPhone” italicized at the bottom like a smarmy reminder of how busy I am. So now one day out of the blue you open up your mailbox and see an honest-to-God letter from me, I don’t know how long yet, but maybe several pages. You’re probably worried that I’ve run off to South America somewhere to flee from the FBI, who’s after me for some kind of money-laundering Ponzi scheme. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you I don’t work for that kind of company.

Don’t worry, I’m OK.

Or, I guess I am, at least. I don’t know. I’m at the camp with Erica, the one I told you about. Not that I really told you anything, but I think I sent you the website link and the dates, as if you’d slot them into a digital calendar somewhere so you knew not to book me for any meetings.

Anyway, we’re here together and I’m meant to be having the time of my life, forming forever memories with my daughter, but somehow every day that I’m here I just end up feeling worse and worse. Like a total failure.

You’re shaking your head right now, I can see you, and saying what a great dad I am. I know you are, and that you’ve always thought that. But you’re wrong. Because here it’s like I’ve been thrown into the deep end, sink or swim, and I am absolutely drowning. Completely exposed.

Erica had an asthma attack today. Nothing really bad, but it could have been if I hadn’t been there. I swooped in like some attentive caregiver, whipped her inhaler out of nowhere, and saved the day. It was a great performance, really. You’d never know that I was completely paralyzed in fear just moments before, and that I had to mentally flip through the little pocket-size notebook Jasmine sent me off with, like an instruction manual, to recall what to do (wheezing and clutching the chest, turn to page 7).

How pathetic is that? I admit it. I don’t really know what her medicines are or what they do. There’s the blue one, for emergencies, and then the red one, which is for everyday use. And then there’s the pills twice a day. I study the manual constantly, Jasmine’s extremely thorough instructions for every scenario, and I can barely get my head around it. There’s just no space left in my mind, no available storage. It all keeps getting pushed out by plans and deadlines and meetings I’m tracking in my brain. I just feel so behind. I know enough now that I know she needs the blue one when she starts having trouble breathing, but I don’t know why she needs it. I wasn’t there when

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