Free Apron Strings by Mary Morony Page B

road and stopped the car. “That Henry must be really dumb,” I said.
    Daddy shoved the gearshift lever into park and opened the door. “Who’s Henry?” he asked as he got out of the car. “Coming this way?” he asked with a tilt of his head.
    I scooted over the seat to the driver’s side and hopped out onto the gravel. “Henry in the song. Why didn’t he just fix the bucket? He could’vecarried water in something other than the bucket, like his hands. I don’t think he needed Liza to tell him all that unless he was just plain dumb.”
    Daddy tousled my hair and laughed as he pulled the picnic basket from the trunk of the car. “That head of yours doesn’t stop spinning, does it?” he chuckled. He put the basket on the ground with a grunt. “Ethel must’ve thought we’d be gone for a week. This thing weighs a ton. How ‘bout we walk to the stream and eat? Then we’ll hike on up to the falls. We can have a swim when we get there. Here Gordy, you take this blanket.”
    Soon we were spreading the blanket on a warm rock, pulling fried chicken, potato salad, deviled eggs, and cherry tomatoes from the hamper along with a thermos of lemonade, and forks, plates and napkins. Daddy whistled. “Ethel sure can pack a mean picnic,” he said.
    “She sure can,” Gordy concurred, stuffing chicken in his mouth. He had a smear of deviled egg on his lip.
    Daddy sat, leaning against a tree trunk with one knee up, eating slowly and watching as Gordy and I scarfed down our food. He held a chicken leg loosely in his fingers, his right hand draped causally over his bent knee. Smiling, relaxed in his madras shirt and khaki shorts, Daddy looked like a man in an ad on television.
    With cookie crumbs flying from his mouth, Gordy said, “Race you to that rock over there.”
    “I’m too full,” I groaned. I lay down with my head on Daddy’s outstretched leg. “I wish I hadn’t eaten so much. Ugh, I’m never going to eat again, ever,” I complained as I spread my hands over my stomach.
    “Ever?” Daddy asked with a laugh. He laid his hand lightly on my shoulder. “Take a little rest. We don’t have any place to go—plenty of time.”
    The last thing I heard was Gordy complaining, “Oh no, she’s not going to sleep, is she?” I drifted off.
    When I awoke, Daddy and Gordy were both asleep. I stared up into the trees towering overhead and thought it might be the very best day ever. I slipped in and out of daydreams, wriggling to get more comfortable. I thought about how Daddy’s laugh made me feel good, like Ethel’s laugh. Not like my mother’s. I never knew with her. Daddy laughed when he thought something was funny and he never laughed at me.
    I saw Daddy was looking down at me and smiling. “Daddy?” I smiled back., “Do you love me?”
    “What do you think, you goose?”
    “I think you do,” I said.
    “I think you think right.”
    “Will you love me no matter what?” I asked.
    “Of course, forever; no matter what. Scout’s honor.” He held up two fingers. “Are you planning on doing something dreadful any minute, or do I have time to steel myself for it?” He laughed and moved to get up, poking Gordy with the toe of his sneaker. “Come on, buddy! We’ve got a date with a waterfall.”
    As we climbed, Gordy and I must have taken thirty steps to Daddy’s one; we ran ahead, then back to him to show off whatever treasure we’d discovered. We galloped over fallen branches like ponies, and ran down to the icy stream, splashing our faces with water, and then scampered back up to the trail. By the time the climb grew steep, we had worn ourselves out and trudged behind Daddy like pack mules, huffing and puffing; sweat streaming down our faces.
    Gordy stopped. “Come on, slow poke,” I said.
    “Do you hear?” Gordy shouted. “The falls, do you hear?”
    “I might be able to if you’d quit yelling!” Daddy stopped too and we all listened.
    “It must be pretty close,” Gordy said. “At least, I