All Your Firsts Without Me

by L.M. Terry

“Were you dreaming about your dad last night?” she asks shyly, looking over her shoulder at me. My eyes fall closed. I did dream about him last night, but it didn’t feel like a dream. He was standing at the foot of our bed, a fishing pole in each of his hands. I stood, taking a few steps towards him. He stretched his arm out, offering me a pole. “I’ve found the best fishing hole, son. The fish are always biting.” His rich laugh echoed through the room before I woke with a start. When I open my eyes, April is silently crying. “You did, didn’t you?” I nod, wiping her tears away with my thumbs. “He’s ready to fish with me again.” “Like grandfather, like father, like son,” she whispers, turning back to her breakfast. Kaden quickly gets up to rinse his plate. He braces himself against the sink, muscles tense, his arms trembling. “I’m going to say this once and then from here on out we aren’t going to talk about it.” They both turn to face me. “We knew there would be a time when we’d have to face this head on. That time is now. Don’t ask me how I know, I just do. I have no regrets. Not one. So, lets enjoy the time we have left. If you have to cry, cry. If you have something you need to say, say it but, we aren’t going to fight this. It’s happening. Okay?” They both nod in agreement. We take the time to do everything I spoke about in my little speech, leaving nothing left unsaid. When Kaden and I go to leave, I tell April that we are only going down to the pier. “If you change yo...