Epilogue
Will
The second annual fishing weekend came around, and so many people signed up to come, we filled both the cabin we’d rented last year and ours.
To capacity. If we had one more couple or even an additional single, next year, we’d have to put up a tent.
There were rental boats as well that could be rowed out by the fishermen, but the real activity of note was the sailboat that had been lost and found and now refinished.
When we went out to sail the first time, I’d noticed how the brand-new mast and sail made the rest of the boat look even shabbier.
The caretaker had recommended a local craftsman who had made the old girl look better than new with gorgeous shiny varnish and new seats that didn’t get splinters in the bottoms of those who rode in her—a flaw we’d discovered after returning home from our first sail.
The loneliness that had hung over me when I arrived up here the first time was a faint memory.
We came up as often as we could, and my dad had even joined us a couple of times.
We caught our usual number of fish—zero—but he and Sammy had bonded, and Dad was thrilled to have another son to go fishing with.
Standing on the porch of our cabin, I watched Sammy playing hide-and-seek with the other littles as dusk descended over the lake.
The daddies were all gathered around a couple of picnic tables, and the little boat was tied firmly up at the dock where it could not get away and get lost again.
I hoped Sammy’s grandpa would be pleased with the rehab of both the boat and his home.
And understand I’d care for his grandson with all the love in my heart.
Sammy’s bright spirit brought joy into my life I could only hope to return.
“Come on, Daddy. Play with us!” Sammy stood at the bottom of the porch stairs. “We’re going to play tag.” He darted up and tapped my arm. “And you’re it!”
No, little one, I thought before racing after him, you’re everything.