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“I don’t need magic to beat you,” she said, sticking out her tongue and giggling.
“It really wasn't a fair contest, dear.” I gently tuck my sleeping son into his blankets and smile up at my mate. “Laney has been fly-fishing since she was old enough to hold a rod and reel. You didn’t stand a chance.”
“Bah,” he said. “She tied my lure wrong on purpose to make me lose.”
Laney gasps, and then Jovak laughs.
“I’m jesting. Congratulations on your victory, Laney. But next time we go fishing, I will not be some mere novice.”
Laney and I scale and clean the fish while Jovak builds a fire. I notice a few orcs from the tribe standing guard a discreet distance away. They’ll allow their chief and his family to range out of the settlement, but at night, we always end up with a few bodyguards.
We lay the fish out to smoke on a lattice of stout sticks and folded leaves. I find some wild thyme and onions and use them to season the meal. I feel the same way I did when we used to do this with my grandpa, only better.
Better because I have a husband and a son to share it with. I know Gramps is looking down on us and smiling.
When there’s nothing left of the fish but smiles and greasy fingers, I sit propped up against a rock, my son in my arms and my husband with his arm over my shoulders. His other arm is over Laney’s shoulders. My sister snores softly as the moon rises over the meadow.
“I love you, Paige,” he said softly, kissing me tenderly.
“I love you, too, Jovak. Thanks for a perfect day.”
“Thanks for a perfect life.”
