Dear Awesome Readers, Thank you for your patience. I've wanted to finish this chapter for quite some time, but at almost 6000 words, I decided to post this part and finish the rest this weekend. Love to all of you! Kelly :)

How It Happened

Chapter 38

Grace

I love the holiday season! There's always so much to do but it's usually fun. Last year we had to be so meticulous about how we did things so Christian didn't feel too much change too fast. But this year, we were able to relax more and just let the holidays happen.

I didn't write a letter for our Christmas cards this year. I usually do, but this year, I thought I'd just write a quick note to certain people. As I'm doing this task at the dining room table, I hear Carrick in the kitchen getting something out of the fridge. He's been working so hard. Thankfully this case is almost done. They've been back and forth negotiating a settlement, but no final decision quite yet. He looks so tired and I hope this is complete before Christmas. I know the firm wants it final before the end of the year.

"Hey Gracie, Baby." I'm kind of startled from my task. I didn't hear him come in here. "Thank you for doing the cards this year." I know he's trying to be appreciative, but has he ever done them with me in the last ten years? No. "I know a lot has fallen in your lap this year. I just want you know how much I love you for it." He's hands me a small wrapped box.

"What's this? Christmas isn't for another two weeks, Carrick Grey." He's just smiling softly and nods for me to open it. It reflects the light even before I've completely lifted the lid. "Oh, Carrick… It's beautiful!" I am speechless. It's just stunning.

"I saw something similar in the jewelry store this summer and thought it would make a wonderful gift for your birthday. Then decided it would make a better Christmas present." It's a pendant on a gold chain. The main pendant is a large gold diamond shape, but it has four gemstones on it. "See?" He points to the shimmering stones at the top and bottom. "There's the peridot for you and topaz for me. Then in the middle are the garnet and pearl for Elliot and Christian." I feel my smile is straining my cheeks, and discover I can hardly see through the tears threatening to fall from my eyes. "Baby… I just wanted you to know how much I know you are the reason our family stays intact. That all of this keeps working here. I know that. I wanted you to know, I know that. I love you, Gracie."

I feel him pull me up from my seat, wrap his arm around me and we kiss gently but passionately. I also feel the tears on my cheeks and then his lips on my forehead. I love this man! "Thank you, Carrick. It's gorgeous. I love it!" As he puts it around my neck I sit back down and try to refocus on my task at hand.

"Can you stop for a while, Baby?" he asks. I'm sure his deep husky voice, and the fact that the boys are asleep, mean his mind going to other ways we can show each other our appreciation.

"Just let me finish this one. It's almost done. Would you put those photos in the envelope while I finish writing the letter?"

"Don't you just send everyone the same one?" He starts flipping through the small pile of pictures and then stops. Without turning to me, he asks in that, I-already-know-the-answer kind of voice, "Who's getting these, Grace?" I guess I could feign ignorance. But since I'm the one writing the cards it's not likely he's going to believe any tale I might conjure up right now.

Instead I just keep writing and don't look up to him as I answer "Aaron Beckett." I hear my husband let out a deep sigh and peripherally, see him sit down. I know he's giving me some concerned or questioning look but I'm not looking at him. "What?" I ask accusingly as I try to keep writing. I don't think he's falling for my innocent act, and I get no response. "He asked us to send him photos. We agreed. I don't think it's too much to ask for us to send the man a few pictures of his great nephew in a Christmas card."

Carrick's tense silence has me frantically writing Aaron's letter. The quiet lingers between us for a few moments, but it feels like forever.

"I don't know how I feel about this Grace. I know we told him we would, but something feels off about sending photos of Christian to a man he's never met. A man we've only met once ourselves. What are you writing in that letter?"

"Nothing un…. savory. It's just a few notes to go along with the photos. About our vacation this summer, the pre-school picture, his birthday…"

"His birthday's in here? At the beach?" I nod as he flips though the pictures again. I see him shake his head and chuckle softly. "That boy…" He looks closer at the photo and I almost smudge my writing when I hear him come out with "No way! You are NOT sending a picture of him with the damned phone book!" I have to laugh. That whole situation just had Carrick pulling his hair out. "We are NOT letting that man know we let his great-nephew walk around carrying a phonebook! For weeks!"

"And why not? Was it not a pretty significant part of Christian's summer? Why can't we tell Aaron about it?"

"Why not?! Who the hell lets their kid go to the beach with a phonebook? We'll look like idiots!" I find myself chuckling now at my husband's bulging vein on his neck. This topic always gets him so riled up. He's looking closer at the other photos now and all of the vacation pictures have the phone book in them. "Oh come on, Gracie! We can't send these! Can't we just send his pre-school picture and call it good? I'll even concede to adding a caption like 'Here's Christian. We got the kid a haircut, and he still looks like this.' Grace… please?"

I'm laughing pretty hard now. It's been worth putting all these together just to see this reaction. "No Carrick! This is…was… who Christian was this year. That book, while a little off kilter, was very important to him! By the way… he knows there are still two more up in the cupboard."

"He's not getting them! I dealt with that whole thing way beyond the realm of sanity and I'm not doing it again." We just look at each other for a while, having one of our silent conversations where we both are sure we won. "What did you write? Can I read it?" I look speculatively toward him. I'm not sure he's not going to just rip it up. "Please?" I let out a deep sigh myself and hand him the letter…

Dear Aaron,

Merry Christmas! We hope this letter finds you well. Please send on our greetings to your family. We are enclosing some photos of Christian from this past year. We've all had to make adjustments as we got to know the new dynamics of our family, but we couldn't be happier and we know we have you to thank for that.

We were able to celebrate Christian's fifth birthday at Belle Isle beach…

"I'll drop you and the boys here. You can go get a spot and I'll park the car. Elliot, Christian… help your mother with the bags. Leave the cooler. I'll grab it." Carrick and I decided to celebrate Christian's fifth birthday at the beach. Number one, with our careers, we don't get to go very often so it will be fun for all of us! Secondly, Christian hasn't really had the opportunity to create friendships of his own, but we can invite family friends to join us without it feeling awkward for him. And, being at the beach provides entertainment for the kids that I don't have to plan or hire. I'm much better at planning parties for adults, than children. But I'm excited about the beach today! This is our first chance to enjoy the sun and swim, this summer.

"OK, boys. You can put the bags down right here. We told our friends we'd be behind the lifeguard stand, and Daddy should be able to find us easily. Elliot, get back here. You need sunscreen, young man. And you are not going in that water without an adult."

"Mom! I'm seven. I can go by myself. I just can't go past the rope. Christian's only five, so he still needs you." My little boy is becoming more and more self-reliant by the day. I tell him I really don't care what the beach rules say. He's not going in without me or his father. Case closed. I somehow manage to put the sun lotion on his wiggling body, but when I turn to Christian, I'm stopped in my tracks. He's frozen in his spot, his breathing is erratic, and his pale expression is only off-set by the deep gray of fear in his eyes that I haven't witnessed for a while… "Christian? What's going on? It's your birthday, Darling. We're here to celebrate. Let's get you…"

My heart jumps into my throat when he immediately steps back away from me. I don't understand. "Sweetheart, we need to get some sunscreen on you so…" His adamant head shaking and worried expression are almost confounding. He hasn't had this kind of reaction for months. When I see him look over at his older brother with concern, I allow Elliot to go down to the water's edge to remove him from the situation. I'm still not sure why's Christian's doing this.

"Found you. Nice spot, Baby. Hey Christian! Ready to have a great day, Birthday Boy?" Carrick puts the cooler on the ground and drops another bag we must have left in the car. He pulls off his shirt and throws it nonchalantly on the ground. "How about you and I go in the water and you can swim with Daddy?" When he finally gets a chance to look at the situation, he too is taken back by Christian's reaction, but doesn't seem to let that get in his way. "Come on Little Man. Where's your brother?" He reaches out his hand and Christian quickly takes it. I see him head toward the beach, pulling Carrick behind him.

"Carry, wait. He doesn't have any sunscreen on." At this comment I see my son hide behind his father's legs. In almost slow motion I watch as he covers his chest with his arms. His eyes darken to that pleading fear, and it suddenly dawns on me. I hear Carrick as if through a fog.

"Christian, Mommy's right. You need some sunscreen or you'll burn." Christian looks up at his father then to me. He's shaking his head with tears about to fall.

I'm amazed that we can forget this so easily. I kneel down to look directly into his eyes. We haven't been in this kind of situation for a long while. It brings back sad memories of the hospital. "I know, Sweetheart, but we have to. This is special lotion. It will block the bad sun…" His adamant refusal and fear is heartbreaking. "Darling, we know. We don't ever want you to feel that burning again, either. That's why… This way we can be sure there'll be no more burns… Just let Mommy…" Carrick seems to understand what's happening, but looks to me for what to do next. "Carrick! That bag you brought from the car. It has his book in it. Will you get it out for him, please?"

"You brought it to the beach? It'll get ruined!"

"I'm really not worrying about that right now. He needs a distraction while I do this. Read something to him." Shaking his head, Carrick reaches into the bag and pulls out the phone book. Christian's expression changes immediately. Much happier little boy. Once he has it firmly in his grasp, he sits on the blanket and opens it to the Ds. I give Carrick a look telling him to get started.

"Holy hell. Fine!" Carrick scoots around to see what page they're on. "Christian… I'm only doing this because it's your birthday, and I don't want you to be dealing with sunburn later." I start with safe territory; his legs and arms. "Let's see…. Dickson, Randall… Dickson, Steven L. Dickson, Steven T…" I gently move up to his shoulders and neck. "Dobrowski, Adam… Docker, Christopher…" Now to tempt fate; his back… "Dreschler, Nicholas…" I feel my son go tense and turn to look back at me. I immediately lift my hands off his skin and move out of his line of vision. Out of sight, out of mind…maybe. My intense look tells my husband to get Christian's attention back in the land of the alphabetized. His deep sigh and rolled eyes make me laugh to myself. Hey. We do what we've gotta' do.

The easy part is over. Now we have to somehow get him to agree to let me rub the lotion on his chest. As I cautiously move in front of him, he's still focused on the book. I slowly, and hopefully out of his line of vision, reach toward him. Suddenly, he jumps up and he understands what I am trying to do. Turning to get away, Carrick quickly reaches out and grasp his wrist. He has him by his right hand but Christian is pulling back in an attempt to escape from the one thing I know he fears above all else.

I find myself trying to bargain with our son, who is making quite the scene. "Darling, you must let me. If you won't, you will not be able to go in the water, or have your presents, or even your cake…" Several of our friends are arriving and this is not picture of a happy birthday party I was wanting to share.

However, my lie about the cake seems to work and he calms a bit. He's still uneasy and the deep gray in his eyes tells me he is very frightened. I try to find the right words to calm the fear I see in my son. So I'm taken by surprise when Carrick grabs the lotion out of my hand, and squeezes it into Christian's. Then he starts to rub some on his own chest. It takes only a few seconds for our son to get the idea. He begins to rub the lotion on himself, imitating his father. "You need to be sure you get it all over son, or it could be very painful later…" I watch in relief as Christian does a pretty thorough job, thanks to his mirroring my wonderful husband. Sometimes, I just have to wonder how I got such a great man! I mouth a 'well done' to him as we all walk to the water and meet up with Elliot, who is more than ready to play in the waves.

The day continues. Everyone is enjoying the time together. The kids are all either in the water splashing and swimming, or on the sand building and digging. The adults are either with the kids in the water or keeping an eye on them on the beach. I've watched the boys all day, and Elliot's friends are all together building a tunnel. I notice Christian, by himself, building something. I understand these kids are all a bit older, and his brother's friends, but I'm still concerned at how much he seems isolated. I'm hoping that pre-school this fall will give him opportunities to create friendships with children his own age.

At one point, Christian is sitting on the blanket wanting to read his phone book. He doesn't understand when I keep it away from him, but his hands are wet and I know that'll ruin the thing. He starts the kicking and squealing. He may be another year older, but you'd never know it with this behavior. "If I let you have this, you will ruin the pages. See how thin they are? Dry your hands first." He rubs them, just barely, on his towel and I know it's not enough.

"Just let him have it, Grace," Carrick whispers to me. "Maybe we'll get lucky and have to toss the thing in the trash before we leave." Fine, smart man. YOU deal with him when he starts the meltdown. Sure enough. Carrick hands him the phone book and within moments, we hear Christian whining and fussing. Pieces of pages are stuck to his hands and legs. The water has soaked through and now we can see the puffing-up effect on the edges and corners. By the time we head over to the picnic area to do food and gifts, Carrick has had to remove half the white pages just to get to any that aren't wet. Christian is NOT happy about that.

Carrick and our friend Dan work on the grill and soon everyone is enjoying a hamburger or hotdog. I also brought some chips and fruit, as well as a thermos of macaroni and cheese which is one of Christian's favorites. It's his birthday after all.

Then I bring out the cake. I wanted to get something personal for him, but I thought a piano cake was a bit much for five years old. Carrick told me, before I even called the bakery, no phone book cake. So, we settled on an airplane/helicopter cake. Well, it's a chocolate cake with plastic toys on top, but Christian's excited, which is the goal. His nervousness returns though, when I light the candles and we all start singing to him. Apparently, the attention on himself, is not comfortable for my younger son. It's amazing how opposite our boys are; Elliot eats this stuff up.

This summer we spent three weeks traveling Michigan, being very 'out-doorsy.' Christian got to go canoeing, camping and fishing, and we spent a couple days on Mackinac Island….

"Dad? Can I help with the tent this time?" Elliot asks his father, ever wanting to show off how grown-up he's getting. We hear about it almost daily. The two of them start and I'm sure Carrick is thinking this job would have gone much faster if he didn't have so much 'help' from his older son. They began connecting poles and at one point the front half of the tent is three feet shorter than the back. Eventually they get it looking like the picture on the box, and Elliot is excited to get his things all set on the boys' side.

Christian has spent most of this time sitting on the picnic bench pouting. It's a step up from the whining we got in the car. Carrick took the phone book away when our younger son discovered the interesting sound it made when he ripped out the pages… one-by-one…. I got an 'I'm not dealing with this for the next two hours, Grace' and even I had to agree it was time for the book to go away for a while.

But once the tent was set up and he saw his older brother's excitement about going inside, Christian's curiosity gets the better of him. I watch as he copies his brother and rolls out his sleeping bag. He arranges his pillow and toys as far away from Elliot's as he can. When I look inside I think how does that happen? Elliot has done this for years, and Christian never has, yet Elliot's side looks like a tornado hit it and Christian's is neat as a pin.

"OK Grey's" I hear my husband calling from outside. We were just in Saugatuck where we went swimming in Lake Michigan. Probably the warmest part of the lake, to be honest. And Mommy got to go shopping, so now, boys, we get to start the fun!"

I have to admit, I wasn't so sure how Christian would do with all the 'roughing it' we were doing. I also admit that our version is significantly far from 'rough,' as camping goes, but we're not sitting in an air conditioned camper either. We don't have electricity running a refrigerator or stove top. We have a cooler and I am actually cooking over a fire, so I consider that rough enough.

Elliot has had a blast exploring the campgrounds; the playground, the swimming area, and the woods. Christian has been right along with him. Even when Carrick decided to do a longer hike, Christian didn't seem to mind. He was just as eager to look for birds, deer or other animals, as Elliot. I've had them keep a journal of our trip and it's now full of drawings, pieces of wood, small plants, and even a bird nest Christian found on the ground. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with it, but it was exciting for both of the boys when he first saw it laying there.

We spend one day canoeing on the river, one day at a farm picking strawberries, and even spend a day at Michigan's Adventure. Christian is too small to ride the roller coasters, but Elliot is just big enough. Thankfully, Carrick goes in for that kind of fun, and I can take Christian on rides more suitable for someone his age (and those less inclined to whirl and puke, like me). His favorite, of course is the helicopter that goes up and down. He's pressing every button over and over... I'm sure he actually thinks he's controlling it! As our day goes on, Carrick lets our boys have anything they want- food wise anyway. He points out to me that it's the last time we'll be here so, why not. Why not? Total lack of nutrition comes to mind, but it's only one day, so I hold my tongue.

Once we pack up the camping gear, we find ourselves back on the road heading north and on the Mackinac Bridge; one of the largest suspension bridges in the world. The Mighty Mac, as it's lovingly referred to here. "Whoa! Mom! Look at that?!" Elliot's excitement speaks for both of my boys by the looks on their faces. At least for a while. After three miles, we're only slightly halfway across. I have to chuckle when the excitement seems to have waned. I hear a deep sigh from Christian and a subdued "This bridge is really long…" from Elliot.

By the time we finish crossing and get into our hotel, it's getting late. We find a small restaurant and have dinner. Amazing fish by the way. Apparently they catch it right out back. While we may be in a very small town, I am happy to be back in civilization and a bed. We got two rooms that connect to be able to separate the boys as much as safely possible. And none too soon! As much as they both enjoyed the camping, the close quarters caused more than one brotherly scuffle.

In the morning, we are boarding a boat to take us over to Mackinac Island. Carrick and I get inundated with Elliot's questions; "Can we ride on top, Mom? Please?... Is it real that there's no cars on the island? How do people go to the store?... Are we gonna' ride bikes too? There's horses?! Do people really live on there or is it just for vacation? They make fudge?! Can we get some?... Why's there a fort? Were there bad guys there?" I feel a bit concerned when I notice Christian leaning down with his hands over his ears. I think this boat ride might be making him feel queasy. I soon realize he's simply reached his limit. Before I can stop it, he's leaned over and hit Elliot in the arm. "Ow!" Carrick quickly gets up taking Christian by the hands, and moves him a couple rows behind Elliot and I. I think my husband has reached his limit as well.

On the island we take a carriage tour to see all the sights; the fort, Arch Rock, British Landing… Carrick wants to rent bicycles, but I let him take Elliot to do that while I keep Christian with me. We've only just begun bicycle riding with him, and several miles to get around the island is a bit much for a five year old.

So we go visit a few fudge shops and pick up a couple different flavors. We climb up the fort hill to sit for a while. We both look out over the boats and the water… The expression of serenity on Christian's face as he watches the sailboats on the lake, is welcome. So many things in our daily lives are still touch and go with him. And some can't even be touch and go, since he still won't let us touch him beyond his arms and legs.

I appreciate the calm and quiet up here. Elliot would be pointing and asking questions… Not that I don't appreciate that even more now, since Christian still isn't talking yet. However, every now and then, a little peace and quiet is nice too. Suddenly, I'm startled by the booming of the cannon from the fort, right behind us! I have hardly enough time to recall that the cannon is used to mark the hours each day, before my son is jumping on my lap and grabbing me around the neck!

"Christian! Darling, it's alright. It's just the cannon to mark the time, Sweetheart." I barely realize what he just did, but thankfully, he's still gripping me and I have the chance to stop and revel in this small moment. I wrap my own arms around his thighs, keeping to the safe zone, but actually holding him to me. As I kiss the top of his head, and continue to comfort him, I silently pray that this means he's opening himself more, to physical contact. Deep down, though, I know that as of right now, it can only happen at his initiation.

When Carrick and Elliot return, we meet up and head back to the ferry boats. We try sitting as a family again, which works better this time, as Elliot is a bit worn out from his eight mile bike ride around the island. In the morning, we pack up and head back over the bridge and further south to one of Carrick's favorite fishing areas….

"So, Grey boys, here's the plan. This evening, I will take Elliot to go fishing with me. Christian will stay with Mommy at the hotel, and go swimming, or go to the game room…. Whatever you want to do, Little Man! Then, tomorrow morning, Elliot gets to stay with Mom and Christian gets to come fishing. If all goes well, we'll be heading home in the evening with dinner in tow!" I can feel my husband's excitement. And I appreciate that he has sons to take out in the boat and sit around for hours doing nothing. I think I'd get claustrophobic.

We get into the hotel room. Elliot immediately goes for the TV remote, but Christian starts opening drawers until he finds the phone book! He's gone several days without one as Carrick threw out the ripped one. He did find one in the hotel room in the U.P., but we could not let him keep it. So he's happy as a lark again, and I have a feeling of what my day with him will be like…

Carrick

I feel myself pulled from a deep slumber by something jostling my arm. I hear several grunts and realize my younger son is waking me. "What the…? Christian, what are you doing? Go back to bed." With my one open eye, I see he's got something in his hand. Dammit. I told Elliot to leave his fishing pole in the car. "It's not time yet, Little Man. Go back to sleep." That thing almost hit me in the face. "What time is it?" I look over at the clock. "It's only two a.m. No. We're not going fishing… Stop the whining. We're not going yet. Come on." I force myself out of bed to walk him back to the boys' room. "Back in bed, now… You will stop the fussing or we won't go at all." I fluff up his pillows and point for him to climb back up. "No, this goes on the table," I can hear my frustration as I take the fishingpole out of his hands. His whimpers and sad expression remind me to explain this more to him. I guess he's just excited for his turn. Especially when Elliot came back with four large-mouth bass.

I sit down on his bed and look directly into his eyes. "You will have your turn… but when it's time. It's too early right now." I look down at my watch. "See?" I point out. "The big hand is just past the one and the little hand is on the two. When the big hand is on the 6 and the little hand is on the five, you can wake me up, OK?" I hand it to him and I get a floppy copper nod. "Lay down now." I tuck him in and kiss his head. "Go back to sleep, Son. We'll go get those fish in the morning. I promise." One more kiss, and I turn to head back to our room. I have to stop and put Elliot's left leg back up on the bed and give him a kiss as well. I love my boys.

"OK, Christian. Here are the rules of fishing. Number one: You have to stay still. Too much moving around and either the boat will get too rocky or you'll fall out. Number two: You have to stay quiet." I chuckle quietly to myself as I realize who I'm talking too. "That one's more for your brother. But not loud noises, OK?" I get a quick, excited, copper nod and I can tell he's very excited.

It warms my heart to know he and I will get to share this activity together; just the two of us. I'm not sure that's ever happened before. Usually we're with Grace or at least Elliot. Grace has had one-on-one time almost daily. But this is really my first opportunity to spend some alone time with my younger son. It takes me a quick moment to lose the lump in my throat.

"Number three: even if you don't want to, you have to be willing to touch the worms. If you can't get the bait on the hook, the fish won't bite!" His questioning expression is clearly telling me he's a bit surprised by the 'worm' comment. I quickly come to the realization that we've been talking about this 'fishing' thing, and he saw the bass Elliot brought back, but I never really explained what we're going to do. He really has no idea what this whole thing is about.

"See, the fish are swimming in the lake. Right below us. Right now! They eat when the sun goes down, which is why I took Elliot last night. And then they eat when the sun comes up. That's why we're here so early. Our job today, is to trick the fish into thinking there's a nice juicy worm wiggling in the water, ready for them to eat." Again I get an expression at the mention of the 'juicy worm' but now it's less questioning and more wrinkled-nose disgust.

"Our poles have a hook on the end…" I show him the parts of his pole. "We'll put the worm on the hook here, cast it out into the water, and then the fish will bite and we'll catch 'em!" He's a little surprised at my animated expression of catching a fish, but it works. He's back to excited, and a little less disgusted.

I help him get the first worm on the hook. He's unsure about touching it, but I just remind him of rule number three, and he begrudgingly helps to get the worm out of the bait tub. For safety reasons, I do the hooking and then we're ready to cast his first line.

"So, you're going to push this button with your thumb like this… Now don't let go yet… I'll tell you when." I have both arms wrapped around him to help with this tricky skill, but he doesn't seem to mind. I wonder if he even notices. If he's not going to make a fuss about it, I sure as hell won't bring it to his attention. "Now slowly swing back and when we swing forward again, we'll…. LET GO!" I let up on the pressure and his line goes an impressive distance for a first cast with a child's pole.

The expression on his face now is one of expectation. Oh. I guess I didn't mention this part. "Now we wait. I bait and cast my own line while he looks at me with that same expectation. "Yeah. Fishing is a waiting game, Christian. We put out the bait; the food the fish wants, and we sit quietly waiting for them, to come to us." He obviously doesn't trust me on this one. I guess he'll just have to learn. "See, we have something the fish wants. Once it bites, the hook will catch and we get to pull him in. Believe it or not, it's a lot like Daddy's job…" I proceed to talk about the negotiations I'm involved in with this case; how we're putting out what the other side wants and hoping they'll bite. I know he has no idea what I'm talking about, but he does seem to be listening. I could never talk about this with Elliot. He'd never listen. I don't know if Christian really cares about what good old Dad is talking about, but at least he's not interrupting.

After a few moments, I stop talking as well, as we both just sit quietly and slowly move our lines back and forth. At one point, I feel him lean on my arm. I move the pole to my left hand so I can wrap my arm around him and give his arm a little squeeze. I really don't dare do anything more, as much as I'd like to. We sit like this together for a while until I hear the bobber drop and there's a bite on Christian's line.

"Christian! I think you've got one! Let's real it in!" Again I help him as he pulls in his first catch. "Oh, that's beauty! It's defiantly a keeper!" His smile is huge and he's impatient as I release it from the hook. He's trying to wait but it's obvious this is very exciting. I'm excited for him! "Oh, no. Hold on. We need another worm. See? He ate that last one." He holds up three fingers and waves them at my face. What? What is he… He reaches for the bait tub and waves his fingers at me. I laugh out loud as I realize. "Oh, yes. Rule number three; you have to touch the worms." I help him bait the hook again, and cast his line. Again, we settle in quietly. And again, I get to feel my son lean on my arm.