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“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Luka said, as he got a pair of folding chairs out of the battered old camper and set them on the grass of their campsite.
“It has,” Marinette agreed, opening the chairs as Luka lifted out the cooler full of food they had brought. “I wish we could have ridden here.”
Luka smiled, running a hand through navy blue hair that was showing white at the roots. “Me too, but it’s just too long a drive for us nowadays. At least this way we can bring some amenities. And you know you wouldn’t want Jake bringing the kids on the bike either.”
Marinette hummed agreement. “There you go, being all practical,” she sighed.
“It’s entirely your influence and you know it,” Luka laughed. “We’ll go for a shorter ride later, once the crowds thin out a bit,” Luka promised. Their motorcycle was in the camper’s trailer.
“A sunset ride sounds nice,” Marinette admitted, smiling at him. The sunset picture of them that first time they’d met up at Le Mans, sitting on Luka’s bike and looking starstruck at each other, still had a place of honor in their house. Many others had joined it; they had visited Le Mans every year until the kids were born, and they’d gone off and on once the children were old enough.
Nowadays Le Mans was a special occasion trip, though, and they always rented a campsite. Their little camper had served them well ever since they had saved up to buy it as newlyweds, seeing them through many an adventure. There had been times they thought of trading it in, but Luka always managed to fix it up again, and now it was practically part of the family.
“A lot has changed, hasn’t it?” Marinette said, sitting down in the pink chair with faded flowers stenciled on the back.
“It would have to,” Luka pointed out, opening the cooler to hand Marinette two bottles of water. “It’s been, what, forty years? If nothing had changed the place would be looking pretty sad.” He sat down in his own chair as Marinette twisted the cap off of a bottle and handed it back to him. He’d managed to keep his arthritis mostly under control so that he could still play his instruments and tinker with his bikes, but he accomplished that partly by taking it easy when he didn’t need to be using his hands.
Luka took the water, transferred it to his other hand, and reached back out to take Marinette’s hand, caressing her fingers with his thumb. Dropping everything to go to Le Mans that weekend forty years ago had been the best decision of his life. Everything good that had happened to him came from that—from Marinette, and the life they’d built together.
He saw her face light up and smiled, before turning to see their son approaching, two small children clinging to his hands. They grow so fast , Luka thought wistfully. He missed holding babies. That warm, soft weight in his arms brought him indescribable happiness.
One of the little girls let out a screech and came running to throw herself in his lap. “Easy, easy,” Luka laughed, even as he squeezed her as tightly as he could. “How’s my little songbird?”
Evie smacked a kiss on Luka’s wrinkled cheek. “I’m hungry,” she announced, and Luka grinned.
“Then you ought to be snuggling up to your grammy,” he teased. “You know she’s the one who controls the food.”
Evie promptly hopped out of Luka’s lap and went to join her sister, who was already hugging Marinette while begging for treats.
Jake strolled up chuckling. He grabbed another folding chair out of the camper and set it next to his father. “How was the drive?” Luka asked, reaching into the cooler.
“Not bad.” Jake shrugged, accepting the soda Luka handed him and cracking it open. “Didn’t have to make so many stops this time.”
“Where’d you park?” Luka asked, and Jake gestured vaguely.
“A ways,” he said, “but it’s a nice walk.”
“How’re things with Anna?” Luka asked, his voice low, and Jake grimaced. “That good, eh?”
“Same old same old,” Jake sighed. “I know she loves us, but I think she loves her job more. Right now it’s just trying to decide if I can live with that.”
Luka put a hand on his son’s shoulder and squeezed. “We’re here for you whatever you decide.”
Jake smiled. “I know. Where’s Erika?”
Luka snorted. “Gearing up for the race, of course. You know she likes to spend some time alone before she gets on the track.” He tried not to show his irritation, or his fear. It turned out it was a lot harder to watch one’s daughter taking stupid risks riding a death machine at insane speeds. Safety gear had come a long way over the years but his heart still clenched when he watched his baby girl on the track, even as he screamed support and glowed with pride.
“She’ll be okay, Dad,” Jake said, and Marinette paused her snack distribution to pat Luka’s hand.
“Of course she will. She’s the best,” Luka bluffed, and Jake rolled his eyes while Marinette giggled.
“How are things going with the shop?” Jake asked, and Luka grinned while Marinette groaned.
“I still can’t believe we did that,” she muttered.
“We met at that shop,” Luka protested. “I couldn’t let that idiot run it into the ground after all the work Michel put into it.”
“At least it gives him something to do,” Marinette told Jake philosophically.
“Not that I’m doing much,” Luka confessed. “The manager I hired is great at her job. I’m just there to smile at customers and stay out of her way.”
“He’s plastered the place with Erika’s racing posters,” Marinette put in, and Jake laughed.
“It’s good for business!” Luka protested lamely.
“That’s totally why,” Marinette giggled.
“I’m not ashamed of being proud of my daughter. Or my son.” He smiled at Jake. “If they made posters for awesome dads I’d have you papered all over the store too.”
Jake snorted. “Thanks, Dad. I love you too.”
Luka reached over and ruffled Jake’s carefully arranged black hair, and Jake made a face at him as he patted it back into place.
“You’re not overdoing it, though, are you?” Jake asked. “Running a business can be rough.”
“Honestly, Delia does all the hard work,” Luka reassured him. “I just help with the fun stuff like inventory ordering. I did go to a trade show with her once to check out some new products. That was a lot of fun but it did wear me out,” he admitted.
“Hmm,” was all Jake said, but he didn’t ask any more questions, satisfied that his father was enjoying himself at least.
“You should stop by sometime soon,” Luka told him, squeezing his shoulder. “I bet we could get you some customers for those sick custom paint jobs.”
Jake looked away. “I haven’t done that in a long time.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t pick it up again,” Marinette said gently. “It’s never too late, and the girls are old enough now to entertain themselves for a bit.”
“Think about it,” Luka told him, and let his hand drop. “The offer’s always open.”
“Daddy!” Maddie popped out of seemingly nowhere and leaned on Jake’s knee. “Can we go see the bikes?”
“Sure,” Jake said, smiling at his youngest. “Let’s go. Does anybody need to go potty first?”
“Me!” Evie yelled, and darted into the camper.
Maddie groaned and pouted, but Jake coaxed her into walking over to the next campsite to check out the bike parked in front of it.
Luka watched them go, and then turned his eyes on his wife, who was cleaning up the trash from the children’s snack tornado. He beckoned, and Marinette came to him, perching on his knee. She had always been thin, but these days she seemed to weigh nothing at all. She leaned into him, and he looped his arms around her. “We’ve come such a long way,” she said softly, and Luka nodded, rubbing his cheek along her silky gray hair.
“Here’s to another forty years,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. Marinette laughed.
“How long are you planning to live?” she teased, tapping the tip of his nose with her finger.
“As long as I can have another moment with you,” he whispered with complete sincerity, and kissed her.
Jake looked over his shoulder as Maddie babbled about the bike, and smiled when he saw his parents. He slipped his phone out of his pocket, and as they pulled back and smiled at each other, he took their picture. He’d show them later, he thought, turning away with a smile.