"Are you sure you'll be alright, mom?" I ask just as mom was packing the car. "The weatherman mentioned a hailstorm." Mama didn't stop. She just responded confidently, "Life gives us these things. You just have live through it." She says this all the time. "I know but-" her hand touches my lip. "You'll be fine. Now, here's the address to our new house." She hands me a slip of paper that says "2098 Frandon Street." "Tell the kids I love them." We hug and she closes the car door.
❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌I walk down to Lake Corrido to tell Sammie and Beth that it's time to go to bed. "Do we have to?" Beth says. She has always been the dramatic one. "Sammie is about to catch a fish!" "She's right." Sammie agrees. "Fish always bite at my bait at 8:30. Sharp." I look at my watch. It says it's 8:23. I sigh. "Ten minutes." They shout with glee and continue to gaze at the water.
I jog back to the house. Caleb and Molly are playing Patty Cake on the floor. "Alright. Time for bed." Molly looks at me, confused. She still looks like she's five, even though she is 7. Her brown hair is in pigtails. Her eyes are sparkling blue. In her hand, there's still her stuffed dog she calls Toby. She finally speaks in her squeaky voice, "But Beth isn't here to tuck me in." "Yes, but the faster you go to sleep, the faster we go to the new house." I reply. They both smile and crawl into bed. "I bet I'll get a big bedroom." Caleb says, ecstatically. "The biggest." "and I'll have a good kitchen." Beth adds in. "The best." I tuck them in, kissed them on the heads, turned off the lights, and walked back down to the lake.
"You catch anything?" I ask. "Nope." Sammie replied, disappointed. Both of their eyes looked down at the grass. "You know what?" I say, trying to cheer them up, "I bet you caught every fish there was in this lake." I've heard this another time when I was ten, Sammie was six, and Beth was four. Dad was teaching Beth to fish while Sammie and I were playing soccer at the nearby park. When Beth didn't catch anything, dad told her, "Sooner or later, all the fish will be caught by us." Now, it just seems babyish to mention it. But it perked them up. Almost in unison, Sammie and Beth jump up. "I remember when I was eight, we caught four fish the size of this." He stretched his arms as far as he could. Together, we told fishing stories as we walked back to our cottage.
YOU ARE READING
What to do with my undead mother
FantasíaThings are going horrible for the kids of the Robinson family, who are trying to move into a new house. First, Molly, the second youngest, breaks her foot. Now, their mother died in a plane crash. Refusing to let her kids go into an orphanage, Ms...