I strain and with all I’ve got, but the rope starts to slide from my hand, straight down into the water. I further tighten my grip and kneel down, bracing myself on the pier, but I’m still being pulled towards the water. My hand is inches above the layer of discarded weeds, floating on the surface. I have to lie down on the pier but it’s no use. Still clutching the rope, my hand is pulled below surface up to my elbow.

The rope stops. There’s still tension, but I can’t see past the layer of weeds.

Something touches my wrist.

I let go.

The rope rapidly slides off the pier, into the water. I sit back, stunned, watching the rope go. Whatever is on the other end of the rope reaches the bottom. There’s about three feet of slack, floating on the surface among the weeds, next to the pier.

What the hell was that?

It wasn’t a fish. It was dead weight like a stone or a log, but whatever touched my wrist has to have been a fish. I’ve been making a nice little habitat for them with all these weeds.

“What are you doing?”

I turn towards the shore behind me.

Caitlyn’s standing at the base of the pier, bookbag slung across her back.

“Oh. Hey, pumpkin.” I get to my feet. I must be quite the sight. “I was, uh … just …” I have to tell her the truth. “Well, sweetheart, I lost Mom’s ring. The chain broke and it fell in the water and I was trying to see if I could get it back.”

I don’t know what she’s going to say. I was inconsolable when it happened a few hours ago. I’m worried how it might affect her.

She surveys the floating weeds that have washed up on shore and surround the pier. “Do you want me to help?”

“No. That’s okay, pumpkin. Thank you. I might try again tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

I clap my hands. “All right! Let’s go inside. I’m gonna take a shower, make us dinner, and I want to hear all about how your first day went.”

She shrugs and begins walking back to the house.

“You can be happier about that, you know?” I call after her.

She waves her hands and sarcastically drawls, “Yeahhhhh.”

I’m not mad. That was objectively funny.

I look down at the end of the rope, floating in the water. I’m tempted to leave it there, but there’s that one in a million chance that Nicole’s ring is on the other end of it, or whatever cinderblock I snagged.

I … I almost don’t want to …

But the thought of Nicole’s ring wins out.