Holden
Chapter Forty-Two
“You’re sure the worms are pretend, and we don’t have to use real worms?” Simon asks. The concern in his eyes is endearing.
We’re at the lake having a guys’ fishing day.
“I promise these aren’t real worms. See? Look.” I squeeze the rubber worm between my fingers.
Lizette had warned me that having real worms as bait would be upsetting to Simon. He’s the kid who scoops a spider or an ant into a cup and takes it outside rather than letting someone kill it.
Simon squeezes the worm and twists his features.
“It feels weird.” His smile stretches wide across his face.
We take a few minutes and unpack everything. Then, I set a timer on my watch for an hour and a half. I promised Lizette I would reapply Simon’s sunscreen regularly, and I can’t mess up something this simple, or she’ll never trust me to do more with him.
Frankie, Mrs. Smith’s younger foster son, is quiet. He watches as everyone chooses a spot to sit, as if he doesn’t know where to go.
“Hey, Frankie, why don’t you come sit over here by Simon and me? That way, if one of us catches a fish, the other two can help,” I say.
“Okay,” he answers.
He takes a seat next to Simon, and I smile when I hear Simon reassuring him that he doesn’t need to worry because it’s not a real worm.
Hayden and Lester got here well before us, beating us by at least an hour and a half. In all fairness, though, I had two young boys and a moody teenager with me.
That’s right. Frankie’s older brother, Ethan, tagged along. It’s no mystery to me that this kid is here because he doesn’t trust us. He’s made it clear he doesn’t like letting other people take care of his brother.
“Is he your dad?” I hear Frankie ask Simon.
I make sure my face doesn’t betray any reaction, but my body tenses as I wait for Simon’s response.
“No, but he likes my mom. I think he likes me too, but he really likes my mom.” They both giggle.
A few seconds after the laughter stops, Simon speaks again. “I don’t have a dad. He went to heaven when I was a baby.”
There’s no sadness in Simon’s voice. Lizette says he doesn’t remember his parents, which breaks her heart.
“I don’t have a dad either. Well, I have a dad, but he’s real mean, so he ain’t allowed to see us anymore.”
Every protective instinct in me stands at attention. What kind of asshole would be mean to this sweet kid?
“You got a brother?” Frankie asks.
“No. No brothers or sisters. I bet it’s fun to have another kid around.”
“Yeah. Sometimes people think my brother is mean like my dad, but he ain’t. He’s just careful. He doesn’t want anyone to hurt us again.”
“Who hurt you?” Simon asks.
“My dad.”
“I’m sorry that your dad did that to you. I know I don’t have one, but dads aren’t supposed to hurt their family.”
Shit. These kids are breaking my heart.
“Hey, anyone want a popsicle?” Lester says from the other side of the boys. He glances at me over their heads, and the look on his face says he heard the conversation as well.
Both boys politely ask for a popsicle—grape for Simon and cherry for Frankie.
Ethan sits in the grass about twenty feet away. He’s reading a book, but I’ve seen him glance our way a few times.
“Young man,” Lester yells to him. “You want a popsicle?”
Ethan looks up at him, squinting in the sunlight, and shakes his head.
“Mr. Lester,” Frankie says, “he likes blue popsicles. He’s probably just... Well, he likes blue popsicles.”
“Me too,” Hayden says. “They’re my favorite.”
“I forgot you were here,” I joke.
In truth, my twin has never been a big talker, but he’s been much quieter since his wife left him.
“Hilarious,” he answers. He digs in the cooler and grabs two of the blue icy popsicles, the kind that come in a long plastic tube that you push up from the bottom until it’s all gone.
I turn my head and watch as my brother walks over to where Ethan sits. He drops a popsicle in the boy’s lap and plops himself down on the ground a few feet from the teenager.
When I glance back at the younger boys, Frankie is watching Ethan and Hayden, studying them almost.
“Don’t worry,” I tell Frankie. “Hayden isn’t really as crabby as he seems.” I make crab claw hands with my fingers.
The younger boys bust out laughing.
With their fishing poles propped on the ground next to them, they eat their popsicles and chatter away about anything and everything. It’s the most I’ve seen Simon talk in one setting.
It’s easy to get lost watching these kids. They remind me of my brothers and me and the days Dad brought us fishing on this lake when we camped out at the cabin. Some of the best days of my life. The memories I have of Dad with his fisherman’s hat and wading boots on never fail to make me smile.
“Holden! Holden!”
Simon calling my name pulls me out of my daydream. When I come out of my daze, Frankie is fighting to hold on to his fishing rod, and Simon is behind him, tugging on Frankie’s shirt to help his friend.
“Oh, boy!”
I put my rod on the ground and place one hand on Frankie’s shoulder, using the other to grip his fishing pole to give him support.
“Should I let go now?” Frankie asks excitedly.
“Nope. You got this. I’m just here to help you, buddy.”
Simon has moved to his friend’s side and cheers him on.
I glance at him intermittently, and I notice him watching me on and off.
“This might be one big fish,” I tell them.
Within a few seconds, Ethan and Hayden are standing near us.
“Ethan! I’m catching a fish!” Frankie says, glancing at his older brother.
“You sure are. Looks like he’s gonna be as big as you.” Ethan’s eyes hold a tenderness as he watches Frankie. It’s the first time I’ve seen it today.
It takes a few more minutes for Frankie to reel in—with a little help—a yellow perch.
We don’t pull him fully out of the water. He’s big for a kid Frankie’s size, but overall on the small side.
“Looks like he’s gonna need to go back into the lake and grow a little,” Lester says.
“Huh?” Frankie asks.
“C’mon with me, and we’ll get our hands cleaned up and get lunch ready. I’ll explain it to you while we do that,” Hayden says.
The boys follow Hayden while I release the perch.
A few minutes later, I sit on the ground and watch the young boys chatter away over peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and some delicious cookies Lizette left for us.
The kids seem to be having fun, and I even catch hints of a smile on Ethan’s face a few times.
What surprises me most, though, is how many times Hayden seems like the previous version of himself—the happier one. The one before his heart got broken. Maybe my brother’s heart is finally starting to heal.