Chapter 134: 134

Dr Knight

Nathan's face lit up with excitement as he slammed his small hand against mine in a high-five and declared enthusiastically, "Yes! Let's totally do it! I'm an expert at spying – I've been practicing for years. I know all Mom's hiding places and how to move around the house without making any noise. This is going to be so much fun!" His enthusiasm was contagious, and I found myself genuinely looking forward to our little spying mission, as inappropriate as it might be under normal circumstances.

"Operation Spy on Mom is officially a go," I said, matching his enthusiasm while starting the car again. "But first, let's get our camping gear and set up our base of operations." As we pulled back onto the road, I found myself feeling lighter than I had in days, despite my physical symptoms. There was something unexpectedly healing about this honest interaction with my son, about the simple joy of planning an adventure together, however small.

It wasn't the camping trip I'd initially envisioned, but in many ways, it was better. Not just because it was safer given my concerning health issues, but because it felt more authentic. This wasn't about grand gestures or expensive outings to compensate for years of absence – it was about connecting with my son in a real way, building the foundation of a relationship that could last. Even if my time was limited, as I feared it might be, at least I was creating memories that Nathan could carry with him. At the very least, if the worst happened and my illness proved serious, he would know with certainty that I had loved both him and his mother, giving him the emotional security to move forward with his life.

"Dad, can we get those headlamp things real campers use?" Nathan asked, already planning our adventure. "And maybe some walkie-talkies for our spy mission?" His enthusiasm warmed my heart, making me momentarily forget my health concerns. "Sure thing, buddy," I replied, ruffling his hair. "We'll get all the essential spy gear."

I drove slowly and cautiously until we reached an outdoor supply store that specialized in camping equipment. The colorful displays of tents, sleeping bags, and various outdoor gadgets seemed to entrance Nathan, whose eyes grew wide with excitement as we walked through the aisles. Although I knew it might seem a bit silly to purchase a tent just to set it up in my backyard, I wanted to make this experience as authentic and special as possible for my son. After all, who knew how many more opportunities we would have for adventures like this?

"Look at this one, Dad!" Nathan exclaimed, pointing to a spacious blue tent. "It says it's waterproof and has room for four people!" He rushed over to examine it more closely, running his hands over the fabric with appreciation. "This would be perfect for us, wouldn't it? And maybe Mom could join us sometime too!" The hopeful look on his face as he mentioned Angela joining our camping adventure made my heart ache with a mixture of longing and regret.

We quickly gathered everything we needed – the tent, sleeping bags, a small portable camping stove, headlamps as Nathan had requested, and even some walkie-talkies that he insisted were essential for our "surveillance mission." The sales associate gave us an amused look as Nathan enthusiastically explained that we were "setting up a spy headquarters in Dad's garden," but kindly played along, suggesting some additional items that might enhance our "covert operation."

After finishing our shopping spree at the outdoor store, we made a detour to a small fast-food restaurant that caught Nathan's eye. "Can we get burgers, Dad? And those really big milkshakes?" he asked eagerly, practically bouncing in his seat. Unable to resist his excitement, I agreed, and we ended up ordering an impressive amount of food – burgers, fries, onion rings, milkshakes, and several desserts that Nathan assured me were "absolutely necessary for proper camping."

"Mom only lets me have fast food on special occasions," he confided as we waited for our order. "She says it's important to eat vegetables to grow big and strong." He flexed his small arm to demonstrate. "But today is definitely a special occasion, right? Our first father-son camping trip!" The way he framed it made it impossible to disagree, so I simply nodded, feeling a pang of guilt for undermining Angela's healthy eating rules but also enjoying this small act of fatherly indulgence.

With our car now packed with camping gear and enough food to feed a small army, we hit the road again. As we drove, the radio played a catchy children's song that apparently Nathan knew by heart. To my surprise, he began singing along enthusiastically, his small voice filling the car with innocent joy. "Come on, Dad!" he encouraged between verses. "You have to sing too! That's the rule of road trips!"

"I don't think I know the words," I protested weakly, but Nathan was having none of it. "Just follow me!" he insisted, and before I knew it, I found myself joining in, awkwardly at first, then with increasing enthusiasm as Nathan's infectious energy broke through my adult reservations. We kept chanting all the way home, our voices blending together as we belted out the silly lyrics about dancing dinosaurs and flying unicorns. In that moment, I felt lighter than I had in years, the burden of my illness temporarily forgotten in the simple joy of singing with my son.

"You're pretty good at singing, Dad!" Nathan remarked generously, despite my obvious lack of musical talent. "Mom said you used to sing in college sometimes. She said you had a nice voice." Another small revelation about how Angela had kept positive memories of me alive for our son, despite everything.

We finally reached my house as the afternoon sun was beginning to lower in the sky. With exaggerated seriousness, Nathan instructed me on the "proper" way to set up a tent, based entirely on what he'd seen in movies and cartoons. Though I actually had some genuine camping experience from my youth, I allowed him to take the lead, only stepping in when he became truly stuck. Together, we managed to erect the tent in my spacious backyard, positioned perfectly under a large oak tree that provided natural shade.

"Now we need to get the fire going," Nathan declared with the confidence of a seasoned outdoor expert. "That's the most important part of camping." I nodded gravely, playing along with his enthusiasm while making sure to keep safety as my priority. I gathered some small sticks and logs from the pile of firewood I kept for my rarely-used fireplace, arranging them carefully in a small fire pit area I created using some bricks from my garden edge.

"Can I help light it?" Nathan asked eagerly, watching as I prepared the kindling. "Mom never lets me near matches." I hesitated, weighing the educational opportunity against safety concerns. "How about this," I suggested, "I'll light it, but you can help by adding small sticks once it's going. That way you're participating without handling the actual fire." This compromise satisfied him, and soon we had a small, cheerful fire crackling away, casting warm light as the evening began to settle around us.

We sat comfortably in front of the fire on the camping chairs we'd purchased, spreading out our feast of fast food on a portable table between us. I speared a piece of the burger meat with a long fork I'd repurposed for roasting marshmallows and playfully extended it toward Nathan. "Here, try this," I said, gently pushing the morsel toward his mouth in a spontaneous gesture of fatherly affection.

He laughed and backed away slightly, shaking his head. "Dad, I don't actually like meat very much. I'm kind of a vegetarian, except for chicken nuggets." His nose wrinkled adorably as he eyed the beef with distaste. "Mom says it's okay because I eat lots of beans and tofu for protein instead."

I gasped dramatically, pretending to be utterly shocked by this revelation. "What? How can my own son not like meat? That's practically impossible! I absolutely love a good steak. As my son, it's practically in your DNA to enjoy meat too!" I was teasing, of course, but playing up the stereotypical father-son bonding over carnivorous preferences.

"I'm sorry, Dad," Nathan replied, making an exaggerated sad face that was clearly meant to be humorous rather than genuinely apologetic. "I just think vegetables taste better. And Mom says it's good for the planet too, eating less meat." His environmental consciousness surprised me, another indication of Angela's thoughtful parenting.

Despite his protests, I playfully shoved a second small piece of meat toward him, grinning mischievously. "Come on, just one more bite. Then you'll be just like your old man – like father, like son, right?" I was enjoying this light-hearted banter, the kind of silly interaction I'd missed out on during his earlier childhood years.

He chuckled and shook his head firmly, then cleverly turned my words around on me. "Nope! How about this instead – you try some of my veggie burger, and then it will be like son, like father!" He held out a piece of his plant-based alternative, his eyes twinkling with challenge and amusement.

I pretended to consider this with great seriousness before accepting the morsel of veggie burger, making an exaggerated show of chewing and considering the flavor. "Hmm, not bad actually," I admitted, surprised to find I meant it. "Your mom's been raising you with good taste, I have to give her that."

Our playful food exchange quickly evolved into a tickle fight, with me gently poking at Nathan's sides until he dissolved into peals of laughter, squirming and giggling uncontrollably. "Dad, stop!" he squealed between laughs. "That tickles too much!" Our shared laughter echoed through the backyard, creating exactly the kind of father-son memory I had hoped for.

However, our joyful moment was abruptly interrupted when the exertion triggered another coughing fit. I turned away quickly, trying to hide the severity from Nathan, but the deep, wracking coughs were impossible to disguise completely. I felt a frightening tightness in my chest as I struggled to catch my breath between spasms.

Nathan immediately stopped laughing, his expression shifting to concern as he watched me cough. "Dad, are you okay? That sounds really bad." His small hand patted my back awkwardly, trying to help in the way he'd probably seen adults do for each other. "Should I get you some water or something?"

I managed to control the coughing after a minute or two, taking several deep breaths as the spasm subsided. I patted his head reassuringly, trying to downplay what had just happened. "Yes, I'm absolutely fine, buddy. I'm just getting a bit old, that's all. Nothing to worry about." I deliberately changed the subject to distract him from his worry. "Hey, weren't we planning to watch your mom tonight? Let's start our secret spy mission!"

His face immediately brightened at the reminder of our planned espionage. "Yes! Let's sneak over there right now and see what they're doing!" He stood up excitedly, already focused on our new adventure rather than my concerning symptoms. "I know exactly how we can see inside without anyone noticing us!"

I raised my eyebrows curiously, wondering what he meant. "What small window are you talking about? I don't remember any special windows at your mom's house." I was genuinely puzzled by his confident assertion that he knew a secret way to observe Angela's home.

Nathan grabbed my hand eagerly and began pulling me toward the garden gate, placing his finger against his lips in an exaggerated "shushing" gesture. "Don't talk so loud!" he whispered dramatically, fully immersed in his spy role. "Someone might hear us! Just follow me, and I'll show you." His enthusiasm was so genuine and his excitement so palpable that I couldn't help but go along with the game, allowing him to lead me out of the yard and down the quiet street toward Angela's house.

I shrugged and followed his lead, curious about where this was going and slightly concerned about crossing the line into inappropriate behavior. While I genuinely wanted to know more about Angela's relationship with Mike, I was also aware that sneaking around peering into windows wasn't exactly setting a good example for my son. Still, Nathan seemed to consider this a fun adventure rather than anything troubling, so I decided to follow his lead for now, ready to redirect us if things went too far.

We walked cautiously along the small street that connected our houses, with Nathan taking his "stealth mission" very seriously, darting between trees and parked cars like a miniature spy from an action movie. Finally, we stopped at the back of Angela's house, where Nathan pointed toward a small kitchen window that was partially obscured by a flowering bush.