“And a donut!” Cora says, noticing some powdered sugar that landed on my shirt despite my best efforts.
“And a donut,” I repeat, loving how brutally honest children are. “What are you guys up to today?”
“Dad is taking us fishing,” Cora says. “We’re getting treats first, then we have to sit quiet and be like mice so we don’t scare the fish.”
I glance up at Cash, making eye contact before quickly glancing away again. “That sounds fun! Draw lotsof pictures of the fish you catch so you can show me tomorrow, okay?”
“Or you could come with us!” Cora’s eyes widen and sparkle in the mid-morning light as a shopper passes us on Main Street. “We can get snacks, and we canbothdraw pictures!”
I freeze.
“Today is her day off, bug. We’ve got to give Ms. Violet a break sometimes.”
Cora pouts, her lower lip trembling as her little arms cross over her chest. “But Ms. V loves fishing. She told me she went with her dad all the time.”
My heart is somersaulting. This sweet child remembers that I went catfishing with my dad when I was her age? There’s so much going on in her life, how does she remember that?
“You should go.” Bella nudges me with a grin. “You’ve been saying you could use a day at the lake, and here’s one falling right into your lap.”
I whip my head toward my supposed best friend of ten years, my left eye twitching in a way only she could understand.
“Please, Dad.” Cora tugs on her dad’s sleeve. “Tell Ms. V to come. She’ll have so much fun with us.”
“Honey,” he says, patting her blonde head, “I just told you. Ms. V is relaxingwithoutus today.” His gaze draws toward me. “I mean, you’re welcome to come if you want to, but don’t feel obligated. It’s your free time. I understand the need for a break. Trust me.”
“Go,” Bella presses, nudging me in the ribs with her elbow. “How could you say no to that little face?”
“Yeah, Ms. V! Come!” Cora repeats in chorus with Bella as the sun tucks behind a cloud.
Dear Lord, I really need to work on saying no.
I swallow my inhibitions down. “Okay… I guess I could come for a little while.”
Cora squeals, and Cash’s mouth curves just enough to short-circuit my entire nervous system, though I’m probably imagining it.
I’m imagining it, right?
“Are you sure?” he adds. “This one is persuasive. She convinced me to let her have Goldfish crackers and Swedish fish for breakfast this morning because it’s Fish Day.”
I laugh. “She got you, Dad. Next time make fish-shaped pancakes or banana boats.”
He nods slowly. “Yeah, that’s a great idea. Good thing we have you with us most days.”
My stomach drops and does a weird, little swoop.
Why is it doing that?
“A junk food breakfast is a requirement of childhood, but only four times. So, I’m pretty sure you’re good.”
“Oh shoot,” he laughs, glancing down at Cora, “I’m pretty sure we’re at number four.”
She shrugs, her face more serious than I’ve ever seen it. “We are! We’re at four!” She glances toward me. “Is that really the rule?”
I nod slowly. “Sorry, kid. Four junk food breakfasts per childhood,” I pause and lower my voice, “except for days when you eat all your vegetables the night before.”
Cora lets out a loud, heavy sigh, scaring a black bird off its perch. “I never finish my vegetables! Vegetables taste sad!”
“They taste sad? What if we put cheese all over them tomorrow night? Will that make them taste happy again?”
