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Bran slaps me on the back. “Glad to hear it. Dad and I will be back at it tonight. I’ll supply the beer.”
“Is it okay if I bring Cobie along?” I ask.
“Sure. A woman’s perspective is always welcome. Besides, Mom, Hannah, and Sela will be there too. They’re working on some of Willa’s baby shower favors at Hannah’s office,” he says.
We carry in the rest of the wood, and some of the tension in my chest eases as I catch sight of Cobie and Lexie ambushing a few of the older boys with snowballs in the front yard.
Cobie giggles with glee as she and her new friend take off running for cover as the boys gather snow to retaliate. They return fire but are gentle in their assault on the little girls, letting them reach the safety of cover before they start tossing the packed missiles in their direction.
Bob’s truck turns into the drive, and he taps his horn to get our attention.
“What’s up, Pop?” Keller asks as Bob rolls down the driver’s window.
“Your mom and Alice have decided they want to make a fresh trout dinner tomorrow,” he replies.
Keller turns to Bran. “What do you think? Can we close up shop at noon?” he asks.
“I say we take the entire day off,” Bran suggests.
“You close your store for a trout dinner?” I question.
Keller grins. “Trout dinner means we get to go ice fishing,” he explains.
“Ice fishing?” I repeat.
“Yep. It’s tradition. We’ll take some of the boys and their fathers or grandfathers up the mountain to ice fish at Magic Reservoir. You wanna come?” Bob asks.
“Yeah, the kids love it. We try to take them at least once every year,” Keller adds.
“I’ve never been ice fishing before,” I admit.
“It’s like regular fishing. Just colder, and you need an auger,” Bran explains.
“The auger’s already loaded on the back of the truck,” Bob says.
“What happens if we don’t catch any fish?” I ask.
“Then, we stop at the fish market on the way back. The ladies won’t know the difference,” Bob says.
“I’m in,” I respond.
“Great. I’ll throw an extra rod and reel in the pickup for you. We leave after breakfast.”
Bob offers his good-bye and reverses out of the driveway.
“They totally know the difference,” Bran mutters.
“Yep,” Keller agrees as he waves to his father.
“What size boots do you wear?” Bran asks me as he looks down at my sneaker-covered feet.
“Ten and a half. Why? I have boots,” I say.
“Yeah, but you’ll need a pair of waterproof waders. Lake water and slush will cover your feet when we drill into the ice. I have a pair that should fit you,” he says.
“And I have an extra rain bib you can wear,” Keller adds.
“Anything else I need?” I ask.
