Tanner blinked, as though trying to keep up with the changes in conversation. “Yeah, I like to fish.”
“Can we go fishing today?”
Tanner put the truck into gear and pulled out of the parking lot. Over the top of the boy’s head, he met Zoë’s gaze. “I’m afraid not. We’re going to meet with some farmers today. Do you like to fish?”
Jonah shrugged, gazing over the dashboard and out the windshield. “Don’t know. Remember? I already told you I never been before. But I’d sure like to go sometime.”
Tanner looked straight ahead as they approached the intersection.
Jonah kept talking. “My dad used to go fishing when he was a kid. Mom told me so. Even though he died, Mom says he loved me like crazy.”
Oh, that hurt. Zoë had never heard Jonah speak so freely about his father. It still left her breathless with pain every time she thought about Derek’s death in a skiing accident only eleven months after Jonah’s birth. Without warning, all their hopes and dreams had been dashed to pieces. And poor Jonah, left without a father. He didn’t even remember his daddy, outside of the things she had told him.
Life could be so unfair.
“Is that so?” Tanner’s gaze slid over Zoë, as if seeking the truth in her eyes.
“Yeah, but me and Mom get along just fine. Someday, I suppose she’ll get married again. But not without my approval. She told me so.” Jonah sat between them, smiling with anticipation.
“My dad died when I was eight and my mom when I was ten,” Tanner said.
Zoë hadn’t expected him to confide something so personal. Not to them. Her heart went out to him. Being orphaned so young couldn’t have been easy.
“Really? You lost both your parents?” Jonah peered at Tanner, his mouth hanging open in astonishment.
“Yep, so I didn’t have anyone to take me fishing, either.”
Zoë absorbed every word like dry sand soaking up rain. How she wished Jonah could have known his daddy. Knowing that Tanner had faced the same loss left her feeling melancholy.
“Then who taught you to fish?” Jonah asked.
“At first, my grandpa taught me,” Tanner said. “We’d go fishing and then come home and eat my grandma’s homemade apple pie. It’s one of my fondest childhood memories. But he died when I was thirteen. Grandma died a year later.”
“Who raised you after your grandparents died?” Zoë asked.
“Foster care.” His jaw hardened, as though he’d rather not talk about it.
She didn’t blame him.
Jonah heaved a little sigh. “I wish I had a grandpa, but me and Mom are all alone, just like you. Except for God. Mom says we’re never really alone, as long as we have the Lord with us.”
How profound. In that moment, Zoë realized that all their discussions, all the bedtime prayers and taking her son to Sunday school classes, had actually paid off. In spite of his wiggling and talking during lessons, part of what Jonah had been taught had actually sunk in.
Tanner frowned and turned away, making a pretense of adjusting his rearview mirror. “Some people just use God as a crutch.”
“What do you mean by that?” Zoë couldn’t help asking.
“Never mind. It’s not really an appropriate business topic anyway.”
Zoë hesitated to push. It wasn’t her business, after all. She worked in a scientific field and had met her share of religious skeptics before, but something in Tanner’s eyes told her he’d believed in God once but had somehow lost his faith. “It’s Saturday, we’re not in the office, we’re in your personal truck, so go ahead and talk. I don’t mind. Don’t you believe in God?”
“Occasionally.” He didn’t meet her eyes.
“What does that mean?” How could you occasionally believe in the Lord?
“God and I leave each other alone for the most part. It works better for us that way.”
She’d never heard such a cynical statement in all her life. She opened her mouth several times, a myriad of comebacks stinging her tongue. But then she remembered that she barely knew this man and had no right to judge him.
“You sound hurt,” she said.
“Uh-huh.” The firm set of his mouth told her he would say no more.
“Maybe we can go fishing after work,” Jonah said, seemingly oblivious to their discussion on Deity.
“We’re not going fishing today,” Zoë said.
“Then when can we go?” he persisted.
“We’ll talk about it later.” Zoë thought Jonah had said enough for one day.
“Is he always like this?” Tanner asked as they headed out of town.
She decided not to be offended by the question. From Tanner’s earnest expression, she didn’t believe he meant it as a criticism. “Yes, but he’s also an excellent student and gets along with everyone at school.”
“Except Brian. He bosses me around all the time. I don’t like him much.” Jonah made an ugly face.
Tanner chuckled and Zoë thought perhaps she’d misjudged the man. Maybe he wasn’t such a hard case after all.
Tanner’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel and he took a deep breath, as if he were about to submerge his head underwater. “Tell you what. I like to go fishing, too. How about I take you to Kids’ Creek Park in town? They have rainbow trout there and we just seeded the pond with hatchery-raised steelhead salmon. Since it’s illegal to catch steelhead in the wild, that’s a real treat. I’m sure we could catch your limit.”
“That’d be great.” Jonah bounced happily on the seat, then paused and quirked one brow. “But what does seeded mean?”
Tanner jerked his head toward Zoë. “Ask your mom.”
The boy promptly faced his mother and repeated his question.
She smiled and brushed a jagged thatch of blond hair away from his eyes. “It means they brought in a big truck from the fish hatchery filled with smaller steelhead fish and dumped them into the pond, just so kids like you can have fun catching them.”
“Except our steelhead aren’t small. Most of them are over twelve inches long,” Tanner said.
“Wow! Can we go, Mom? Can we?” Jonah wriggled with expectation.
She hesitated. Tanner’s invitation had come as a complete surprise. She sensed a subtle tensing in his shoulders and wondered if he regretted his offer. An outing of this sort was just what Jonah needed. She couldn’t think of one legitimate reason to say no. “Of course we can go.”
“Hooray!” Jonah swiveled around to face Tanner, his little body squirming in anticipation. “When? When can we go?”
“How about tomorrow afternoon?” Tanner smiled but stared straight ahead, keeping his eyes on the road.
“I’m afraid tomorrow is Sunday and I take Jonah to church. What about another day?” Zoë ignored Jonah’s irritated gasp. She was eager to worship God and meet their new congregation to make some friends. Then she could trade babysitting on the weekends and set up playdates for Jonah throughout the summer months.
Tanner swiped a hand across the light stubble on his chin. “I can’t go again until next Saturday.”
“That would work for us,” she agreed.
“But that’s a whole week away,” Jonah whined.