“Because we’re bored and enjoying nature. Catch and release, right? That’s how the law works.”
“Baby, I’m trying to get us dinner,” I say, cupping her cheeks and making her stop trying to get the fish from the cooler.
“No, no, no, what if he has a fish-wife and fish-babies. We have to let him go, Beck,” she demands, shaking her head. Her eyes are all big and doe-like as she looks up at me.
While my hands are on her face, she very quickly lifts the lid, grabs the fish, and tosses him into the water, all before I can even react. She even somehow manages to grab Mocha and stop him from jumping into the lake.
“What the hell are you doing?” I ask, letting go of her face and looking out at the water. I don’t know if I’m mad or if I’m just very surprised.
“No,” she says, picking up the fishing pole that’s sitting next to me.
“No, what?” I ask, as she gently takes the hook and attaches it to the rung, before holding it out of my reach.
“We aren’t going to eat fish. I don’t wanna kill any animals.”
“Baby,come on…”
“I said no, Beckett, I don’t wanna fish anymore,” she says sharply, grabbing her book and taking my fishing pole with her as she walks off the deck.
Mocha and I just stare at each other, neither of us really sure what just happened.
“Ok, I guess we’re done fishing,” I mumble, getting up out of my chair, folding up mine first, then hers, before walking back over to the campfire.
“So what do you want to eat tonight?” I ask, looking at her as she sits on the floor of the tent, reading her book.
“There’s hotdogs in the cooler,” she mutters without looking at me.
“You do know where hot dogs come from, right?”
She glares up at me, and I raise my hands in surrender. “Ok, sorry, just making sure. Mocha and I will be out here if you decide to join us.”
I don’t always understand her. I’m not really sure what she just freaked out about, but I think that it’s just safer if I don’t question it. I grab a beer from the cooler and sit down in my chair.
I look down at my watch. It’s only five, and since we are now having hot dogs, they will only take a few minutes to cook over the fire.
About an hour later, Sloane comes out of the tent, now dressed in sweats and a hoodie. She sits in my lap and wraps her arms around my neck.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have stolen your fishing pole,” she whispers.
“It’s ok, do you mind telling me why you did it though?”
She lets out a sigh before tucking a piece of hair behind her ear and looking up at me.
“I don’t like killing animals or watching them die; it makes me too sad. I know that I shouldn’t have just grabbed the fish like that either, but I didn’t know what else to do or how long that it could be without water.”
“Ok, next time communicate that to me instead of just freaking out, please.”
“I didn’tfreak out,” she mumbles. I side-eye her. “Ok, fine, it was asmallfreakout. I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. I’ll probably never go fishing or hunting with you, just so you know. I will eat your cooking as long as I don’t have to watch it suffer.”
“Ok, I can live with that,” I say, kissing the side of her head and hugging her tight.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t inform you that I was trying to catch dinner.”
“It’s ok, I’m sorry for overreacting.”
“Water under the bridge,” I say, nuzzling her neck and making her giggle.
“We’re ok?”
