“Mom said we were getting a new house, but Dad wasn’t coming. It was after Grandpa died.”
“Your grandpa died?”
That’s news to me.
“Yeah, but he wasn’t fun. I couldn’t do anything at his house because I’d get in trouble if I broke something.”
“I’m sorry, Poppy.”
I don’t know how long Presley and Poppy have been on their own, but I hate that Poppy had to worry about these kinds of things. Chalk it up to another reason I hated Presley’s dad. If he were here now, he wouldn’t approve of me spending time with Poppy or Presley.
He’d do everything in his power to get me to stay away from them.
The bastard.
“Being here is fun,” she says, a smile brightening her face before her rod tugs. “Did I catch one?”
“Yes.” Dropping my pole to the side, I cover her hands with mine and slowly start to reel him in. The closer he gets to the boat, the more he thrashes.
“I can see him!” Poppy points to him. “He’s huge.”
“You did good, Pop.”
By the time I find the basket to catch him, Poppy is squealing. Pulling him out, he’s at least eight inches long.
“He’s huge!”
“Can you believe you caught him?”
“I’m the best fisher girl in the world.”
“Damn right you are. You want to hold him?”
Her blue eyes go wide. “Will he be slimy?”
“Scaly and wet, but it’ll be okay.”
She holds her hands out and I pass him over.
“It’s weird,” she says.
“We need to throw him back in a minute.”
“Can I name him first?” she asks.
“Sure. Let me snap a picture of you holding him for your mom.”
“Frankie. His name is Frankie,” she tells me.
She holds out the fish, her smile taking up her entire face as I take the photo. It’s the cutest thing ever. Poppy is beaming with pride as I help her put him back in the water.
“I can’t wait to tell Mom!”
She helps me with baiting and recasting her line, and a happy smile settles on my face.
Fishing with my daughter.
I never thought that this would be my life. By the time I moved to Seattle, I put kids and any kind of future where I was happy out of my mind. If I didn’t have Presley, I didn’t see the point of having a family.
