I smiled because they were sweet together.
But sometimes, it stung.
Fishing was their thing. Every Saturday before sunrise, Mark took Sophie for hot chocolate and cinnamon rolls, then drove to the lake where his father had taught him to fish.
I knew which socks bothered Sophie’s toes. I knew she still liked being tucked in.But Saturdays belonged to Mark.
I knew she still liked being tucked in.
That morning, Sophie tightened her ponytail while Denise and I drank coffee.
« Sure you don’t want to come shopping with us? » I asked.
« No way, » she said. « Dad and I have to catch a monster. »
« Bring me back a pretty fish. »
She took the thermos from me. « I love you, Mom. »
Continue on the next page:
