Rake the leaves. Wash the dishes. Fold the laundry. Take out the trash. Clean the bathroom. Beat the rug. Change out the birdfeeder.
Laurie, Laurie, Laurie.
The only time her mother ever calls for her.
But, Laurie has never refused her mother. Albeit, she was never presented the choice to get out of a summoning. Her mother always knew when to dole out the chores. Usually inconveniently timed before a date with Annie or Lynda. And if Laurie were to ever leave her mother for a boy…
Laurie sighed as she dried the dishes one by one.
"Hey kiddo, you're almost done?" Her father poked his head out of the doorway.
"Yeah, dad," Laurie muttered, smoothing down the apron with her hands before removing it.
"Great! Let's get out of here before your mother gets back," he grumbled. "The sooner we get out of here the sooner we can get there. Been a while since I've rigged a line. Hey, don't give me that look. I'm not that old. Am I?"
"No. You don't look a day over 25."
"Don't tell me you brown nose your teachers like that."
Laurie grimaced. "Dad."
"I'm just joking. I know you work hard for it."
XXXX
It is surreal — standing on the banks of the river in her capris. The water breaks light like a diamond's reflection. She hears the whistles of a starling and thinks back on when her teacher, an avid bird watcher, had described their species' as invasive.
"So you see this?" Her father says, crouched to the ground. "It's a barbless hook." He shows her. "Whereas this one…" He says, as he points at the jagged tip, "that there will trap the fish, and it won't slip out and let the poor thing go. But today, we'll stick with this one, so it's easy to get the hook out."
"Why would we do that?" Laurie asks.
"So we don't hurt the fish." He replies as he rigs the line.
"But we're going to eat it later."
"No. We're letting it free." At her confused face, he chuckles, handing her the fishing pole.
"Not everything that's caught needs to die, Laurie. And also, my fishing license expired a long time ago. If a ranger catches me, well, that means your mother won't be buying those new huaraches she's been eyeing downtown. That damn woman sometimes—...Marriage, Laurie, will be easier for you. But, for men," her father reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cigarette, lights it. The glow of an amber dot reflects off his cheek, and a stream of smoke is pushed out of his nostrils. "Bah!...we don't get enough credit."
"But, Mom has to stay home all day."
"Is that what she's telling you?" Her father scoffs. "Of course you'd believe her — like mother like daughter. If you were a boy…" Then, he cleared his throat, half turning away from her as he puffed a cloud in the other direction.
Laurie looks at how her fingers are wrapped around the pole. Her father, then directs her on how to cast. She angles the pole, flicks her wrist, and the line and hook fly through the air and plop through the water's surface.
Despite waiting in anticipation, five minutes pass without a single tug.
"Do you love mom?" Laurie asks.
His eyes widen. "Huh?"
Ashamed, Laurie's eyes skimmed across the river. "Nevermind," she mumbles.
Her father pursed his lips, as though to answer, but the words Laurie expects to hear never leaves his mouth. She isn't sure what would hurt more: his silence or the truth.
"I came out here with your mother once. It was winter and she wanted to skate across the ice. Luckily it gets cold enough for that here. But, I was scared. I didn't want to fall through. Too many stories of stupid kids getting trapped under water. I was 25, not some juvenile dingus. But your mom insisted on it, at least walk out a couple of steps. And I listened to her. I was about…" Her father looked out and pointed out thirty feet from the shore. "...right there on wobbly legs. And as your mother skated circles around me, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a ring." Her father scowls. "Stupid I was. Slipped and broke the ice. She pulled me out, but the ring was gone."
"Mom still wears a ring."
"Your grandma gave her hers. Never had the opportunity to buy another for her."
She looks at her father skeptically.
Because you'd realized Mother wasn't worth it, right papa?
"Laurie," her father sighs, "When you find a man, not saying there's any rush, but if you decide you're ready...Treat him like you would want mom to treat me."
"How's that?"
Her father seems upset that his daughter wouldn't know better, but Laurie is only being candid. What? Is she supposed to pretend that she knows what he wants? What any man wants? Do men want to be treated like kings with concubines? Despite sleeping with women outside of marriage, did her father think he deserved to still be treated well and looked at as though honorable and faithful? Because, honestly, Laurie can't imagine thinking any king would seek for a whore when he has his queen.
But her father is no king. Her mother is no queen.
What, then does he mean?
"It's…" her father fumbles, meaning he doesn't know what he wants either. What man does?
"It's loving...The act of loving," He eventually says. "Not just seeing someone as a means to live comfortably. When a woman marries a man, traditionally you all don't...Work, Laurie." Her father shakes his head, drops the cigarette, and crushes out the flame with the heel of his foot. "Make your own money. Have prospects. And you're not doing it to land the trophy man. You're doing it all for yourself first. Then, when you find him, it's about what you can give him— not just a kid, not just dinner, not just a warm bed— it's more. It's...fulfillment."
Laurie tilts her head. "What makes a man feel fulfilled?"
"A wife who appreciates him and who reflects the same qualities he sees in himself."
Laurie frowns. Then, what is her mother to him? A woman who doesn't reflect the same qualities? Her mother was always caring, too caring. Hard working. Possessed a one track mind.
How does her father see himself in relation to his wife? Better? Worse?
"Does mom make you feel fulfilled?" Laurie inquires softly.
Her father gazes out across the river as though there he will find an answer.
At that point the fishing pole flexes and her father says,
"Looks like you caught a fish. He must be wishing he could get away."