A little fish wriggled at the end of her line.
“Mommy, mommy, look. I got a fish.”
“You did honey.”
“I want a fish,” Noah said.
“We just need to sit quietly and wait,” Terra said, kissing Noah on the head.
I helped Lanie get the fish to shore. Still on the hook, she laid it in the sand where it flopped.
She squatted down. “What’s he doing?”
Dying, I thought but didn’t say. I imagined it was uncomfortable for fish to be out of water. “Dancing. But I think he misses his dance partners. We should throw him back.”
“Do we have to? Can’t we take him home?” Lanie said, her pretty little eyes looking at me.
“This is his home. He’ll miss his family if we take him with us.” I picked up the slick squirming fish and removed the hook.
“Does George miss his family?” Lanie asked of Noah’s fish.
“That’s different. George was an orphan. We’re his family now.” How that stuff came to me, I had no idea. I suspected there was something triggered in the brain when I became a dad that allowed me to concoct such strange tales. “Do you want to throw him in or me?”
Lanie reached out to the fish, but then it flopped and she jumped back. “You do it.”
I tossed the fish in the water. “You know, finding your mom was sort of like fishing. I had to toss a lot back before I found the one to keep.”
Terra snorted. “The truth is, I lured your father to my hook with bait.”
I looked at her and winked. “Thank God you didn’t toss me back.”
“When can I catch a fish?” Noah asked, oblivious to the moment between Terra and me.
It took a long time. I was beginning to think it wouldn’t happen, but finally, a fish bit Noah’s line. We reeled in another little guy, and tossed him back.
“Can we go to the playground?” Lanie asked, now bored by the whole thing.
“Yep.” The playground was at another part of the park, so we loaded up the car and drove to the area.
As they played, Terra and I sat on a bench.
“When should we tell them?” Terra asked.
I hated bringing her cancer into a perfect day, but of course, we had to tell them at some point. There was much to consider and prepare for with her treatment starting next week.
“We don’t have to today. Let’s just enjoy this. We’ll have time before your first treatment.”
“Yes, okay.” She leaned over to rest her head on my shoulder. “Did you really toss a lot of fish back?”
“A few.”
She sighed. “I did too.”
“How many?” I asked, feeling that twinge of jealousy that other men had once touched her.
She looked up at me, and I could see mischief in her eyes. She held up a hand. “Let’s see…one…two…three…”
“Stop. You’re killing me.” I gave her a squeeze.