“Of course,” I said, smiling at her. “Did you like your job?”
She thought for a second before answering. “I did. But the hard thing about social work is that a lot of people are perfectly content being in the ‘system,’” she said, making air-quotes. “It’s hard not to become jaded when seventy-five percent of your clients don’t really want to make a better life for themselves and their children. You know, as a fresh college-grad, I was out to change the world. Then I found out, it’s not that easy to do.”
“Then why did you do it?”
“Honestly,” she said with a wistful smile, “for the other twenty-five percent. My favorite clients were those ones that had been knocked down, but refused to give up. Seeing the pride on their faces when they could come to me and say, ‘Thank you for your help, but we’re back on track and don’t need you anymore.’ That was the best feeling in the world.”
We stopped walking and turned toward the lake, just watching the ripples in the water.
“So why don’t you do that part anymore?” I asked, genuinely curious why she wanted to be in the background at her job now instead of on the front lines.
She sighed. “I got knocked down. I found out that it’s not as easy to get back up as I thought.”
I gazed down at her as she got lost in her thoughts. I hoped I could help her get back up. She had so much love and kindness to give. I wanted her to find her way back to it.
“I’m getting kind of hungry,” I said, snapping us out of the moment. “Wanna head back toward our picnic?”
“Sure,” she said, smiling up at me.
“Are you still close with that family?” I asked as we walked back the way we came. “The one that lived with you?”
“Oh yeah! Tracy is my best friend.”
“Wait, did I meet her at Jaxon’s birthday party?” I asked, trying to remember meeting someone with that name.
“No, she lives in Nebraska with her husband, Aaron,” she said. “Their son Ryder is about Jaxon’s age. A little younger. I haven’t seen her in, gosh, probably a year. But we still talk on the phone every day.”
“Really,” I said with amusement in my voice. “What do you guys talk about? Do you talk about this hot guy you’re seeing?”
She smirked. “I don’t know. What do you and Deuce talk about every day?”
I snorted. “Don’t even compare Deuce with a normal best friend. I love the guy and all, but Deuce is not normal.”
She laughed. I, on the other hand, started growing nervous again as we started getting closer to that damn floating log. Addison didn’t seem to notice my mood change.
“How can you say that about your best friend?” she asked and then stopped as her eye caught the attention of something. “Hey, what’s this?” She bent down to pick something up out of the water before she jumped back and started screaming, “Alligator!”
“WHERE? WHERE IS IT?” I yelled as I darted for the safety of the sand.
Then I looked up and saw Addison laughing. No, not laughing. Full on holding her stomach, no sound coming out of her mouth, roaring with laughter.
“What’s so funny?” I asked with my eyes narrowed on hers.
“Ohmygod,” she finally said, trying to catch her breath. “You really are afraid of alligators!” At this point, tears were streaming down her face. “I thought you were, you know, afraid of them. But I had no idea you would run screaming like a little girl and leave me behind to be eaten!”
“You did that on purpose,” I said, finally catching on to her little joke.
She nodded and started laughing again.
“Oh you are gonna be sooooo sorry you did that,” I said with a menacing tone and started walking toward her.
She immediately perked up. “What are you doing, Jason?” she asked nervously and started walking backwards toward the picnic blanket, never taking her eyes off of me.
I stalked toward her until she turned around and started running, screaming with laughter.
It took me no time to catch her, but I didn’t have a plan on what I’d do when I caught her so I just grabbed her and spun her around once before putting her back down. I kept my arms around her, though.
“That wasn’t funny,” I said as I kissed the top of her head.
“Oh it was so funny,” she answered, still catching her breath.
We walked back over to the blanket and plopped down. Very quickly, we learned that sand and food don’t mix. Our sandwiches weren’t edible by the time the wind kicked up a notch.
I also realized something very important.