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Yeah, she was a miniature version of me, the same daredevil spirit that had caused many broken arms, bruised ribs and more than one broken nose. “I’m glad you had a good time at the park.”
“Next time you should swing too.”
“But then you wouldn’t get to go so high.” Her little legs weren’t strong enough to get the height she required to laugh and squeal with delight.
“Okay,” she sighed, somewhat disappointed. I heard a gasp and prepared to freak out and rush her to the ER when she started to scream. “Mr. Ollie! Mr. Ollie! Over here!”
Oliver Thompson. Augusta’s father had become one of Rosie’s favorite people in town. For some reason, his grumpy disposition amused my daughter and she was always excited to see him. With a green and white cooler in one hand and a fishing pole in the other, he lifted the fishing pole in greeting.
“Princess Rosie. How are you today?”
“I’m good. I made a crown for one of my dollies and a bracelet for Aunty Teddy. Oh, and I made something for you too,” she shouted and then leaned in with a conspiratorial grin. “It’s a surprise.”
“Sounds like you’ve had a busy day. I thought all you royals lived a life of leisure?”
She giggled. “What’s that?”
“It means you don’t do anything all day, just look pretty and eat lots of good food.”
Rosie let out another laugh. “I did lots today. How are you?”
I couldn’t help but smile at her manners. She often forgot, and I didn’t really get on her because she was still a little girl, but when she remembered it made me feel like I wasn’t screwing everything up.
Ollie sighed. “Good, good. Had a fine day at the fishing hole.” He held up the cooler with a satisfied smile. “How would you two like to attend an old-fashioned fish fry?”
“What’s that?” Rosie’s gaze bounced between me and Ollie, waiting for an explanation.
“It’s just what it sounds like, little girl. We get together and fry up some fish, and some other things that go with fish. We talk and we laugh and sometimes we dance.”
“I love dancing!” She turned to me with a devilish grin. “Can we Daddy?”
“I love a good fish fry as much as the next guy, and cooking happens to be my specialty.”
Ollie grunted. “Nothing too fancy, Antonio. It’s a fish fry, not a fish ball.”
Rosie giggled and shook her head, putting a small smile on Ollie’s face.
“Let’s stop at my place for a few things first, and then me and Rosie will walk back with you.” Ollie nodded and fell into step beside me, nodding patiently as Rosie regaled him with every detail of her day.
She didn’t even stop when we arrived home. “I’m gonna get your surprise Mr. Ollie, be back real soon!”
By the time I returned with a bag of things to contribute to the fish fry, Ollie wore a gentle smile as he watched Rosie talk to the fish inside the cooler. “She made me a lure. It’s glittery as hell and brighter than the sun, but it’s nice. Really nice.” The old man seemed touched by the gesture, and I wondered if his relationship with Rosie was his way of making things right with the world.
Inside Ollie’s brown and white ranch house, he set down his hook and took the cooler to the mudroom, Rosie on his heels. “Whatcha gonna do, Mr. Ollie?”
His footsteps stopped inside the mudroom and he turned to her. “This part isn’t meant for princesses, sorry little girl.”
“Okay.” And just like that she turned to me and climbed into a chair where she busied herself with the important work of coloring.
Ollie split the fish between us with a grunt and made his way to the grill in the backyard, where he seemed happiest. When I joined him a few minutes later with corn and potatoes for the grill, I noticed it was the first time I’d seen him wear anything but a scowl.
“You’ve got a good stash of vegetables, Ollie.”
He half-grunted, half-laughed. “My stubborn daughter keeps buying the damn things, forcing me to eat them or have her waste her money on me.” He shook his head as he made room for the vegetables on the grill. “It’s a damn trap, I tell yah.”
“Oh the horror of having someone care about your well-being.” My sarcasm was heavy and Ollie sent me a narrow eyed glare.
“Throwing my words back at me? That’s low, Chef. Really low.” We burst out laughing, knowing that Ollie had told me the same thing on multiple occasions when I complained about how overly helpful my siblings had been since I returned to Jackson’s Ridge.
“What’s so funny?” Augusta’s voice startled me, and judging by the look on his face, Ollie too. Rosie however was perched on her hip, arms casually wrapped around her neck.
