Caged In

Chapter 27

Helping her with her jacket, Sophia and I quietly head out the door and I firmly lace my fingers into hers as I hold her hand in mine, leading her down the path that is already starting to overgrow from lack of use. It used to be clear enough for me and Pops to walk down side by side, but now I have to tug her behind me in places where the brush has gotten too thick. "Is she always that affectionate?" Sophia whispers softly as we walk in deeper away from the home and the night around us only leaves the lingering sounds of animals finishing their preparations for winter.

Shaking my head, smiling a bit, "only when she likes you." Rubbing my thumb back and forth over the back of her hand she starts to relax as she lets out a puffed breath that rises up in the air. Pulling her closer when the path allows it I try to press my body heat to her and she gladly nuzzles in closer for it. Sophia glances up at me from time to time and I can feel the way her fingers run a circle against the waistline of my pants over my shirt. "I'm not really used to it. My mom and aunts Cilla and Maggie always did that but not the other women in my life, the opposite actually" she starts to mumble as she looks out over the pond when we come up to it. Wrapping my arm tighter around her shoulder, Sophia scratches at my skin as she shoves down the memory starting to rise of her step mother.

"Pops and me used to come here when I was younger, spend hours fishing or even swimming" telling her to try and distract her from her thoughts, but I quickly realise I will also need a distraction from my own memories. Like two lost broken souls trying to find a way in this life. Walking closer to the waters edge I reach down, finding a rock to skip and I mull it over in my hand. Was one of the first things he taught me and scolded me for when I would scare the fish away. Looking at the other side of the pond a memory filters in through the walls I've built. It's summer and Pops has himself propped back and relaxing in a beach chair as he snores and his rod end is tugging with a fish. He didn't wake for it but I can remember coming out across the way, laughing as I picked up a rock and let it skim the top of the water until it came up on the shore to hit his foot. I got my ear chewed off about giving him a heartache for it by Grams. I was only a teen then, never thought about it. A smile that tugged my face is now pulling it down. "Penny for your thoughts?" Sophia's soft voice tugs me back to her and this cold night. When I look at her she is looking over my face in a slow progression that has my thoughts coming back to focus on her. "Miss him, don't ya?" she asks as our eyes meet but I can only nod as the words lodge in my throat.

I do miss him. A lot.

I can feel my eyes start to sting as that lodge tries to move itself back up and I force it down with a swallow. "I don't talk about him much, it's only been a couple of years but it still brings me back there every time." talking slowly while trying to keep the pitch of my voice even but Sophia stands in front of me and looks up in my eyes, reaching deeper in them.

"I get it. You ever feel like talking and starting to pull those walls down baby, just tell me. I ain't gonna judge if you get quiet or shed some tears. I know, I've been there.'' She tells me softly and I can feel the slight shake in her own voice as her hands slip to my hips before moving around my waist as she hugs me. Wrapping around her tightly, I feel the few tears slowly start to trickle down over my cheek to sting my skin as it meets the cold. Leaning on her, Sophia takes the weight of me as I let myself feel and think for the first time on all the memories I made with them; with him. All the times as a kid when I would follow behind him, excited and with a bounce to my step as I asked him 'where we going today Pops?', everytime he would sit back in his old rocking chair on the front porch while he puffed on his pipe and I would roll my eyes while snapping beans asking how long we have to do this for. He would tell me until I grew some patience in the garden next to Grams' strawberries. When I would come home every time with some award or accomplishment, he would smack my back and clasp my arm with a rough shake telling me how proud he was of me. The last year I spent with him as he tried to hide how tired he was, spending more time with Grams and talking about his life. I was too caught up with my own thing to give him much attention. I feel guilty for not spending my time more wisely.