Jason and I spend our nights at the fire pit, warming ourselves and finding new ways to share an Adirondack chair. Our days we waste fishing, and reading, and swimming in the too cool lake. I play music all week that Jason hates, but only changes half the time, and we bask in each other. I nap in the hammock and by Wednesday I’m finally rested. I wake to the sight of Jason taking his pocketknife out and carving the tree at my feet.“Marking it. The way I wish I could mark you,” he says, and continues carving until he backs up and I can see J.L. + A.O. carved in it. “Who’s A.O.?” I ask playfully.“Some buckle bunny,” he says, and I burst into laughter.“What the hell is a buckle bunny?”“It’s a rodeo groupie. They travel around to different rodeos and have favorite cowboys they root for. And when I say root for, I mean in the biblical way.” I am in awe of this information.“Why, Jason Leer, you are a bona fide celebrity, buckle bunnies and all.
