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"Pope!"
ᑭOᑭᗴsquinted his eyes against the brights sun, gripping the water hose he held in his hand, spraying seaweed off the dock from where it had scattered everywhere from the hurricane. JJ and John B pulled up in front of him in the HMS Pogue.
"Get in!" John B exclaimed, slowing the boat down. "Come on!" JJ stepped aside to give him room to jump on. "I can't." Pope shook his head, gesturing to all the trash, debris and broken tree limbs that had blown everywhere. "I have to help clean up."
"Come on, Pope!" John B urged him, slowly passing the dock. "Do it tomorrow!"
"I can't." Pope argued. "The mayor's coming by, he called my dad this morning." JJ arched a brow at Pope, the blonde wondering if by some chance the mayor had found out about his impending grand parenthood. "He's bringing people by to help clean up The Cut."
"Come on." John B continued to try and coax him. "You said he's bringing help then that means they don't need you."
Pope still shook his in protest. He was hoping Ophelia would be coming too and he didn't want to miss an opportunity to see the mother of his unborn child. "I can't."
