Food Poisoning

"Maybe that's part of what's so hard," Hal admitted. "Fear that I'm gonna be too far away to mend her wounds." He paused for a long moment before giving a scoff. "Not that Michelle would let me help anyway. A couple years ago, Alison almost drown, and I got a next day flight to Florida. When I got there, I had to fight just to see her in the hospital." He rolled his eyes. "I feel like this is my punishment for marrying Michelle in the first place. Got a daughter to love, but I'm not allowed to be involved."

Still keeping his hand in Sam's, he sighed. "I had just a short few years with her... I've missed out on so much since then." His eyes gained a far away look. "I was thrilled ya know... when she was born..." He went on to tell Sam about that day. How excited but petrified he'd been. How he'd pretend to be asleep sometimes so he wouldn't have to get up yet again in the middle of the night. How Alison's first word had been "fish," much to Michelle's dismay. How she'd taken her first steps. How heroically he'd survived his first trip to the grocery store with her alone... and wound up getting half the wrong things. 

Perhaps it was a much-needed therapy session, even if he didn't realize it. Just talking about Alison helped, and reminded him that there had been some good, in between all the bad. Somewhere along the way, they returned to the kitchen to finish their sandwiches, washed the dishes, went back to the living room, looked through some fishing gear he explained to her, and found a documentary to watch on tv that they only partially watched while talking...

..."Ah. This was my uncle's fortieth birthday party." Hal sat with Sam on the couch, close enough their shoulders touched so he could go through the old photo album with her. He chuckled at the memory. "The whole family's always been messed up, but they do know how to have a cookout. I wound up with three bee stings, mud-soaked shoes, and what I'm pretty sure was food poisoning."

He rolled his eyes and turned the page where he immediately slapped his hand down over the picture of his high school graduation. "You don't need to see that one." He'd always hated that picture of him in his cap and gown. "I barely graduated anyway."


Zan quirked an eyebrow as he took a bite and chewed skeptically. He couldn't contain his grin though. "Well... I don't know what kind of cook your mom was... but I definitely know what kind of cook you are and you're a keeper." 

Just enjoying the food and the sunshine, Zan was completely relaxed. It was a little noisy at times with all the people, but one could easily ignore it if they wanted. 

Lying on his side, propped up on an elbow, Zan fiddled with a piece of grass between his fingers. It would be a little while yet until the next movie, so they had time to kill. His eyes found a nearby open grassy area and a new smile emerged. "Ever play frisbee?"