"Remember when we used to come down here, taking Papa's four-wheeler? We'd just sit there for hours, hooks in the water but not catching a damn thing?"

He tilted his head up to look at me, his eyes were still heavy. Without saying a word, he turned his head back at the water and kept his hands together, fidgeting slowly.

"Papa would get back from the farm and come down to take the boat out, and we'd go out and ride on the tube until the sun started coming down? We would try to push Dad off when he would come out with us, and he would let us think we were close before knocking us off?"

I placed my arm around him, and his face fell lower as he sunk his head into my shoulder. His breathing was calm, steady, and quiet, but I could feel it now.

"Gram would come down only for the time it would take to drink a glass of wine, before going back up to make dinner - What was it that you liked so much? Her shrimp, right? The rest of us hated it, but you, you always wanted the shrimp when we would visit."

He lunged over to hug me squeezing as tight as he could, and so much that my arms were pinned to my sides and I couldn't hug back.

"I miss him too, you know."

"I know."

As I closed my eyes to embrace the hug, I heard a click coming from his hand behind me.