Dark Needs
Page 17
She barely paused to breathe when she spoke. "Well, yeah, since I don't have a job anymore to keep me occupied, I needed something to take up some of my time so I don't die of boredom. My shrink suggested I get a hobby so I went on the iPad, and I watched a few of those YouTube videos, or whatever they are called, you know, the ones where a ten year old with a video camera can basically teach you everything you need to know and make you feel old as dirt at the same time? So here we are, halfway to a sweater for Georgia." Bethany had quit her job as the district attorney shortly after Georgia was hurt. In her words 'her 'right and wrong' radar needed a reset, and she couldn't do that and still be the pit-bull lawyer without a conscious she was paid to be.
Bethany held up the small scrap of something that was connected to the needles, I could see the disappointment on her face through the two big holes in the middle of the patch. She shook her head. "It's a work in progress." She said, starting her knitting again. "Over, under, and through." She muttered as she furrowed her brows and squinted down at her work.
"We'll be back in a little while," I assured her. Not actually sure how long whatever it was Jake had planned would take. "Thanks for coming over on such short notice." Before I turned to go, Bethany looked up from her project, her eyes watery.
Thank you. She mouthed to me, and in a flash, she was again back to knitting. "Take your time. I'll be at this darn thing all night anyway." The impatient biting tone back in her voice.
Jake didn't say good bye to Bethany. He didn't say anything for that matter. He opened the sliding glass doors and ushered me through, following closely behind me. Jake took my hand and led me down the backyard to the dock, and when we got there, he sat me down on a plastic bench that doubled as a storage trunk for all of Georgia's pink fishing gear. I picked up a little pink visor with the words DADDYS LITTLE FISHING GIRL monogramed across the front that had fallen behind the bench. I ran my fingers over the raised lettering and sighed to myself.
We'd come so far in such a short period of time. Georgia and Jake both acted like they'd always been part of each other’s lives. Sure, I may have birthed her and fed her and clothed her on my own for years, but then Jake showed up and BOOM.
Daddy's little girl to her very core.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
In my life, I'd never experienced the type of love that exists between a father and daughter. The closest thing I ever had to a father was Jake's dad Frank, and although he would always hold a special place in my heart for all he did for me and Georgia, he was rarely sober enough to show off the fatherly side of himself.
I knew nothing of the love between a parent and child until Georgia came along, and she became my entire world.
Watching Jake with Georgia was always a new experience for me. They wore their love for each other on their sleeves. There was no doubt that when anyone looked at the two of them together that they would see that they were enamored with one another.
I know Jake loved me, and that love was limitless. But I knew that the love he felt for Georgia was on a whole other level.
Jake's fishing boat, a twenty foot outboard that used to belong to his brother, sat up on a lift he'd built to keep barnacles from growing on the hull and the saltwater from eating at the paint, he'd just put a new motor on it.
Jake was taking Georgia out early the next morning for their inaugural fishing trip on the newly fixed boat. Meanwhile I would head out while it was still dark to photograph the sun rising over the beach for my newest set of post cards.
It's funny actually because Georgia had to literally be dragged out of bed on most mornings when the sun was already high in the sky, but when Jake was taking her fishing, her eyes sprang open before the sun had even started to peek over the horizon and was usually the one bouncing on our bed to wake Jake up first.
Jake picked up some sort of netting that was spread out on the grass above the seawall. He wrapped it around his arm a few times and set it in a bucket.
"What's that?" I asked him as he set the bucket down next to the storage bench.
"I'm teaching Gee how to throw the cast net tomorrow. Since she likes fishing so much, it's 'bout time she learned how to catch her own bait," he said, his southern accent had grown thicker since he'd come home to Coral Pines. I sometimes forgot that with all of Jake's inner turmoil, and all the things he was capable of doing, that some part of him was just a southern boy who liked to fish and tinker with trucks.
"That net thing is bigger than she is. How much does it weigh?" I asked, noticing that Jake’s very toned bicep muscles strained when he'd lifted the bucket.
Bethany held up the small scrap of something that was connected to the needles, I could see the disappointment on her face through the two big holes in the middle of the patch. She shook her head. "It's a work in progress." She said, starting her knitting again. "Over, under, and through." She muttered as she furrowed her brows and squinted down at her work.
"We'll be back in a little while," I assured her. Not actually sure how long whatever it was Jake had planned would take. "Thanks for coming over on such short notice." Before I turned to go, Bethany looked up from her project, her eyes watery.
Thank you. She mouthed to me, and in a flash, she was again back to knitting. "Take your time. I'll be at this darn thing all night anyway." The impatient biting tone back in her voice.
Jake didn't say good bye to Bethany. He didn't say anything for that matter. He opened the sliding glass doors and ushered me through, following closely behind me. Jake took my hand and led me down the backyard to the dock, and when we got there, he sat me down on a plastic bench that doubled as a storage trunk for all of Georgia's pink fishing gear. I picked up a little pink visor with the words DADDYS LITTLE FISHING GIRL monogramed across the front that had fallen behind the bench. I ran my fingers over the raised lettering and sighed to myself.
We'd come so far in such a short period of time. Georgia and Jake both acted like they'd always been part of each other’s lives. Sure, I may have birthed her and fed her and clothed her on my own for years, but then Jake showed up and BOOM.
Daddy's little girl to her very core.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
In my life, I'd never experienced the type of love that exists between a father and daughter. The closest thing I ever had to a father was Jake's dad Frank, and although he would always hold a special place in my heart for all he did for me and Georgia, he was rarely sober enough to show off the fatherly side of himself.
I knew nothing of the love between a parent and child until Georgia came along, and she became my entire world.
Watching Jake with Georgia was always a new experience for me. They wore their love for each other on their sleeves. There was no doubt that when anyone looked at the two of them together that they would see that they were enamored with one another.
I know Jake loved me, and that love was limitless. But I knew that the love he felt for Georgia was on a whole other level.
Jake's fishing boat, a twenty foot outboard that used to belong to his brother, sat up on a lift he'd built to keep barnacles from growing on the hull and the saltwater from eating at the paint, he'd just put a new motor on it.
Jake was taking Georgia out early the next morning for their inaugural fishing trip on the newly fixed boat. Meanwhile I would head out while it was still dark to photograph the sun rising over the beach for my newest set of post cards.
It's funny actually because Georgia had to literally be dragged out of bed on most mornings when the sun was already high in the sky, but when Jake was taking her fishing, her eyes sprang open before the sun had even started to peek over the horizon and was usually the one bouncing on our bed to wake Jake up first.
Jake picked up some sort of netting that was spread out on the grass above the seawall. He wrapped it around his arm a few times and set it in a bucket.
"What's that?" I asked him as he set the bucket down next to the storage bench.
"I'm teaching Gee how to throw the cast net tomorrow. Since she likes fishing so much, it's 'bout time she learned how to catch her own bait," he said, his southern accent had grown thicker since he'd come home to Coral Pines. I sometimes forgot that with all of Jake's inner turmoil, and all the things he was capable of doing, that some part of him was just a southern boy who liked to fish and tinker with trucks.
"That net thing is bigger than she is. How much does it weigh?" I asked, noticing that Jake’s very toned bicep muscles strained when he'd lifted the bucket.
