Page 28 of Come to Me

“Just because you don’t think of her all the time, doesn’t mean you’ll forget her. My sister didn’t die, but she’s had to go away. I feel bad a lot about it. But right now, I’m with you, and I feel good. I’m grateful that you’re here and I can be happy.”

Tate’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yes. I won’t forget my sister. And I’ll feel sad about her again, but right now, it’s okay for me to be happy. What do you think?”

Tate’s head bobbed up and down. “I think it’s okay.”

Patrick patted the boy on the back. “You’re going to be fine. I know it.”

“I’m sorry about your window.”

“It’s okay. It’s all fixed. But I wonder, what had made you so mad?”

Tate straightened and looked out at his fishing line.

“If you don’t want to tell me, it’s okay.”

Tate was quiet for a long moment before he said, “I didn’t want my daddy to go.”

“Why is that?” Patrick watched the boy, feeling like he could see the turmoil on the boy’s face.

“My mommy went away and didn’t come home.”

Patrick wanted to wrap up the boy in a hug to guard against all the pain and fear he was carrying. “You’re afraid your dad won’t come home?”

“He’s a deputy. Sometimes he has to fight bad guys.”

“That would make me afraid to be away from my dad too.”

“Really? You’d be afraid?”

“Yes.”

“But you’re grown up. Grownups don’t get afraid.”

“I don’t know where you heard that, but it’s not true. Grownups just have more practice hiding that they’re afraid. Not that it’s bad to show fear, because it’s not. I bet if you told your dad, or Aunt Michaela or your grandparents, they’d understand.”

A fish tugged at Tate's line, ending the current conversation. “I got a bite.” Tate jumped up and stepped to the edge of lake. He stood with his legs wide in a steady stance as he turned the handle of reel. Soon a fish flipped out of the water. “I got one. Look Dr. Patrick.”

“I see. Is there something I need to do to help.”

“Nope. I can do it.” Sure enough, Tate reeled in a decent sized fish. “It’s a bass.” He held the fish up like a trophy.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Do you have your phone? Can you take a picture?”

Patrick padded his pocket. His phone wasn’t there. He didn’t even think about bringing it. He’d been so focused on spending time with Tate it didn’t occur to him. “I’m sorry I don’t. Should I run back?—”

“Nah. That’s okay. I don’t want him to suffer too much.” Tate unhooked the fish with deft fingers, then carried the fish to the lake and released it back into the water.

“Now what?”

“Now I bait another hook. Maybe you should reel in your line. Maybe the fish stole your worm.”

“They can do that?”

“Sometimes. Usually, you can feel it like a nibble.”

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