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That wasn’t going to stop me from entertaining the children, but I had started trying to leave our activities open-ended so that she could come and go as she pleased. Sometimes, just getting the chance to take a short nap was all she needed to feel revitalized, and I loved being able to give her that. It was, almost literally, the least I could do.
“Fine,” she agreed with a smile. “A few more minutes. But then we really have to go. The baby needs food.”
“Make him eat my fish,” Milk said.
“No, makehereat my fish,” Honey said, glaring at him.
The boy vs girl debate had been raging for weeks now. Not just with the children, but between me and Claire as well. I was convinced that we were having a girl, because Claire didn’t have the morning sickness that she did with our son. Claire insisted that she had been sick both times, and I just remembered it wrong. We teased each other playfully, though neither of us really wanted anything more than a happy baby.
But she didn’t bring that up right now. “I’ll eat some fish from both of you,” she assured them.
“But me first,” our boy said, holding out his hand for the fishing pole.
“Me first!” argued Honey.
“No. Milk’s turn. You just went,” I declared. Honey crossed her arms but didn’t argue. From the look on her face, she knew that I was right, even if she didn’t want to admit it.
I walked the children back to the riverbank. He grabbed a new worm from the bucket, shrieking with glee as he pressed it into my hand. I had set a firm rule that they couldn’t touch the hook.
I baited it for him, then handed him the rod. Kneeling to help him cast, I then backed a few feet away once he was settled in.
Returning to Claire, I noticed that she was swaying slightly in place. It was an adorable habit of hers, but I knew that she did it when the weight of the baby made her hips ache. I took her hands in mine, urging her to sit down and rest.
“You’ll have to help me get up,” she warned.
I grinned. “Do you think I’m going to leave you here overnight? I haven’t made you sleep outside in years.”
She giggled, letting me lower her gently to the ground. “Those were good times,” she replied, sounding a little wistful.
I kneeled behind her, folding my legs beneath me. She leaned back against me, and I wrapped my arms around her shoulders.
“They were. The best of times.”
We watched our children play and splash in the water. I could tell, just from watching, that there was no chance they were going to catch any fish. They’d probably scared every fish in a six-mile radius. It was a good thing I’d already caught enough for dinner.
But they took turns, passing the rod back and forth and giggling, anyway. It didn’t seem to bother them in the least, as they were having fun in their own way. It might not have been what most people would call fishing, but they were happy.
“But these are pretty good times, too,” I pointed out, smiling as I watched them.
She lifted her hands to rest on my arms.
“The best of times.”
THE END
