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“Do you guys want to go for a walk around the island? Walk down to the water and explore a bit?”
“Yah!” Monica jumps up, abandoning her coloring book.
“Are we okay to do that?” Lilah asks.
"I think as long we wear hats and sunglasses and keep to ourselves, we should be okay."
She nods, but if the way she’s biting her bottom lip says anything, she’s hesitant. I pretend I don’t notice. “Okay.”
The house sits at the top of a small hill on the island, looking down over the rooftops of a few other houses around Lake Washington. As soon as we step outside, the fresh air hits my nostrils and I inhale deeply. I can’t wait to get some outdoor exercise. I’ve been making use of the home gym, but nothing beats the outdoors.
It’s a sunny, late summer day, but since we’re so close to the water, it's cooler than it would be on the mainland. Monica leads the way down our rural road with no sidewalks as if she knows where she’s going.
Lilah and I awkwardly talk about the weather and the road, as though we’d rather do anything other than what we’re doing. We reach the public pier and Monica sprints down the wooden planks.
“Hold up there, tiger.” I scoop her up from behind, her giggles like music to my ears. “You can’t get too close to the edge.”
“But those kids are.” She points at a couple of kids with fishing rods.
“They’re fishing,” I say as Lilah catches up and stands beside us.
“I wanna fish!”
Lilah chuckles, and I look from her over to Monica.
“Well, we don’t have any fishing gear right now, but how about I order some and we can go one day while your mom is doing her laps in the pool?”
“Yah!”
I set her on her feet, and she walks a bit more slowly, her eyes soaking it all in.
“You know, your mom used to fish when she was little.”
Lilah rolls her eyes, knowing what’s coming.
“She did?” Monica looks at Lilah, her forehead wrinkled.
“She did.” I nod. “We used to go to this river to fish when we were kids. But your mom was always too scared to put the worm on the hook, so I had to do it for her.”
Monica’s eyes widen, and I can tell she’s listening intently, looking between her mom and me.
Lilah says, “Until one day Jimmy said he wouldn’t help me anymore and I had to learn to do it myself.”
I smile at Lilah. “So I showed her how to do it, and even though she put on a brave face and picked up the worm, when she went to put it on the hook, it squirmed, she yelped, and her hand jerked. She ended up stabbing herself with the hook.”
Monica’s face crumples and swings toward Lilah. “Were you okay, Mommy?”
Lilah chuckles. “Yeah. Look.” She holds her thumb out to the five-year-old who is on the verge of tears. “All that’s left is a little scar.”
Monica pulls Lilah's hand forward and examines the thumb closely. “Did it hurt?”
Lilah nods. “It did, but not too much. Sometimes when bad things happen, all you have left to remember them is a scar. Nothing wrong with that. If you remember your mistakes, you can learn from them.” She ruffles Monica's hair then turns in my direction.
Her sunglasses cover her eyes, and I wish I knew what she was feeling right now, what she could be hiding behind those sunglasses.
“Can we go fishing tomorrow?” Monica bounces on her heels, clapping.
“Maybe the day after. We’ll order all the supplies and we can go later this week, sound good?”
