The Science of Loving by Candace Vianna

school surfer: Tall and lanky, rocking a loud Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts and OluKia sandals. My dad was short, soft and round, like a plush pillow; more comfortable in slacks and a polo shirt with a pair of loafers on his feet. Unfortunately, in addition to his hair and eyes, I also inherited his small frame, so I’d probably acquire the same roly-poly roundness as I grew older.
    Mat was studying the ground next to a mini-van sized boulder, kicking rocks out of the way. “I’m thinking we’ll set the tent here.” Nearby a picnic table and fire pit were tucked in the shade of some scrub oak growing out of the rocky ground.
    “Hey Biggie,” Danny said, walking over. “Toss me the keys so we can start unloading.”
    “I don’t think so Taz. You can help Angie clear the tent space.” Danny stuck out her tongue at his back as he headed to the car.
    “Taz?”
    “Tasmanian Devil, like from the cartoon.” Danny put her arm around me, watching him. “I should tattoo a Taz on his ass when he’s not looking,” she muttered. “With enough tequila, he’ll agree to just about anything. C’mon let’s find the Patrón. ”
    “Damn. Honey, the slides aren’t working.” Stewart came out of the camper. “Where’d you put the toolbox?”
    They all spoke at once:
    “No, Mami don’t—” Mat.
    “Stop!” Danny.
    “I don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetie.” Carmen.
    “My Dad and tools are a dangerous combination,” Danny confided. “It always ends with a fire or some other mechanical fail of epic proportion; spilled blood and trips to the emergency room.”
    “Would your dad mind if I took a look?”
    “Hey Dad, let Angie check it out.”
    “I’ll get the toolbox for you.” Carmen looked relieved. “Stewart, why don’t you help Mat.”
    “No Mami , I got it. Maybe Danny and Dad could scope out our neighbors and the facilities.”
    “Sure thing, come on Dad let’s go for a walk.” Danny skipped over to him.
    “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.” He grumped then looked at me. “I’m not that bad.”
    “Of course not, sweetheart.” Carmen patted his chest and gave him a peck on the cheek while Danny stood behind him, dramatically miming explosions and winking.
    Carmen exhaled as they disappeared from sight. “Another, disaster averted. I’ll get you that toolbox.”
    “And the owner’s manual, as well?”
    “Of course, mija .”
     
     

     
    By the time I had the tent set up, and our gear stowed, Angie was completely immersed in the RV’s guts. She’d stripped off some wall panels, exposing circuit cards and wires. I quietly backed out of the camper, recognizing the quiet intensity on her face. I got that same look when my creative juices flowed freely. I grabbed a beer, and joined Mom at the picnic table watching for smoke. When Dad and the brat returned, we waited together in the fading sunlight for the disaster that inevitably followed all our mechanical endeavors.
    There was an electric whirring and the RV’s walls actuated, sliding smoothly out. A few minutes later, the automated leveling system engaged with a hiss. We were still holding shocked breaths when Angie popped out a few minutes later with a relaxed smile on her face.
    “All fixed?” Mom asked, handing her a beer.
    “Yep. One of the connectors controlling the drive motors had worked itself loose and you had a blown fuse. Fortunately, the fuse box held some spares.” That was so fucking hot.
    “Lucky for you I met your mother first, boyo , or I’d steal your girl,” Dad joked.
    “Speak for yourself, Stew.” Mom nudged him. “I’d dump you in a hot minute for her. So where’d you learn to do that?” All the praise had Angie blushing.
    “My Dad likes to tinker. It was something we did together when I was growing up. As long as I have a manual, I can find my way around just about anything.”
    “Well I guess I’m up. Dinner’s in an hour. Why don’t you guys get the canopy set up.” Mom