"What can we make with what's in here?" Ricky asked a while later, surveying the meager offerings in the fridge in the guys' cabin.
"I'd say, sandwiches—or sandwiches," Sam replied with a laugh. "Lunch meat or peanut butter."
"There's no jelly," Mace complained.
"We'll put it on the shopping list," DJ called out from the living room. He was on the sofa, scanning the script Tuck had given him.
"We have one?" Mace called back.
"No. But Tuck does—or rather, Brent, he said." DJ returned to what he'd been doing.
"I'll butter," Sam told Ricky, opening the bread packet and laying out slices. "You can put meat on and, hmm. Peanut butter's the only condiment we have."
"No way in hell," Ricky replied. "I've eaten some pretty gross things in my life but I put my foot down on peanut butter and lunch meat sandwiches."
"Chicken," Sam retorted.
"Nope. Just not crazy."
They finished making sandwiches for everyone while Mace poured the milk.
"Dinner's ready," Sam announced, setting the plates on the table. When DJ didn't respond, Sam went over and tapped his shoulder.
"Okay. Coming," DJ muttered, bookmarking the script.
"What are we going to do after dinner?" Mace asked while they ate.
Sam shrugged. "Explore?"
"With or without the ladies?"
"We'll leave it up to them." Sam snapped his fingers. "We can make a bonfire down by the lake."
"And roast marshmallows. Or we could if we had any," Ricky said.
Sam grinned. "We'll pretend. We're actors."
After finishing dinner and washing up, they went to the girls' cabin to see if they wanted to join them. That was met with enthusiastic cries of "you bet."
There was still enough light when they got down to the lake that they were able to find fallen branches to make the fire. Ricky had matches, so lighting it was no problem. Then he went in search of some twigs for their imaginary marshmallows. They had great fun pantomiming cooking and eating them. After that, "Since this is a campfire," Mace pointed out, they sang songs they remembered from their childhoods.
As they sang, Sam noticed Ricky hadn't joined in after the first few. Then Ricky got up, walking down to the edge of the lake.
"Is he okay," Dena asked, watching him with concern.
"I don't think so," Sam replied. "Why don't you put the fire out and head back while I find out what's going on with him."
While they did as he'd asked, Sam went after Ricky. He found him kneeling on the shore, staring out across the water, so he sat down beside him.
"What's going on?" Sam asked quietly.
Ricky sighed. "I was remembering when things were good at home, back when I was a kid. We used to go on picnics. We even camped out one time." He smiled sadly. "I thought life would always be like that, me and my dad doing things together and having fun. Then I grew up."
"It's a bummer when that happens. Have you— No, never mind. You wouldn't be here if you'd tried to reconnect with him."