Page 142 of Savior

“Catchin’ fish, old man. Ain’t you aware of the technique? You mind keepin’ an eye on them for a minute? I’m gonna check on my other little one.”

He shook his head and lit up a cigarette. “Last I checked, she was sittin’ in the orchard. You might wanna grab some sunscreen while you’re by the house.”

I looked back at the kids. “I coated them in sunscreen a half-hour ago.”

“Not them. You. Lookin’ a little crispy, Grey.”

“I’ll just throw a shirt on, it’ll be fine.” I waved him off and headed for the orchard. When I found her, I shook my head. She’d gotten into the markers again and was happily drawing on her arms.

“Hey, there’s my girl,” I said softly, trying not to startle her.

She lifted her head and pushed the jet black hair off her face before her green eyes widened. “Pops,” she said solemnly, thinking she was in trouble.

And she was, just not with me.

Her mama could handle that.

“Whatcha doin’, Charlie?” Just saying her name left me with a lump in my throat. When Kate told us that she and Nate had decided to name their baby after Angel, I’d nodded and smiled before falling apart like Thor when he missed his nap.

I brought his body back here, to the place he’d bought for my ma. When we finally worked up the courage to clean out his house, I found a navy blue urn with butterflies on the side. For years I’d wondered where they’d buried her. It turned out, Angel had never really been able to let go.

He’d kept her on the nightstand next to the bed, along with a rare picture of the two of them that I’d completely forgotten I’d taken. It only clicked when I studied the camera angle and realized the photographer was a lot shorter than the two of them.

I kept the old photograph but buried him with her in his arms. Just like he would’ve wanted. They were laid to rest next to a Texas Redbud tree where I could visit anytime I liked.

“Pops,” Charlie said quietly. “Twyin’ decowate my awms.” She traced her fingers across the ink on my skin with her little fingers. “Like you.”

“Is that right, little miss? Who else has decorated arms?”

Charlie mashed her little teeth together with a grin that crinkled her nose. “Daddy!”

I tapped the dimple on her cheek with my index finger. “Yep, and who else?”

She bounced her legs up and down in excitement. “Unca Mike!”

“And?” I could’ve sat out in the orchard with her all day. She reminded me so much of Kate at that age. I’d never get the time back that I lost with her, but I was going to soak up every second with my grand-babies to make up for it.

“Unca Zane!” She threw her hands in the air before happily adding, “And Mommy!”

“Wait, your mama has a tattoo?”

Her eyes sparkled with amusement that she knew something I didn’t. “On hew boob!”

Holy shit.

She pointed to her ribcage. “Wight heew.”

“Is that right?” I asked. “What does it say?”

Charlie shrugged and held her arm out to me. “Decowate… pwease!”

“Got somethin’ else in mind. Wanna get your helmet and go for a ride with Pops?”

She dropped the markers and jumped up in excitement. “I get it. Wait.”

I let her get about ten feet from the house before scooping her up and jogging the rest of the way while she shrieked like a banshee in my arms. Mike looked up at the sound before going back to the smoker with a grin when he realized it wasn’t one of his kids.

“Down!” she demanded. “Cece, save me!”

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