SG Vol. 1 pt. 7 (Patreon)

I know my body is going to regret this later after not having anything fried in over a month, but there’s no way that I can turn down getting a plate full of fried seafood cooked by Jasmine herself.

Mom got herself a pasta with some shrimp, and Naomi, of course, got a grilled cheese, some chicken tenders, French fries, chocolate milk, and a single fillet of fried fish. Jasmine doesn’t joke around when it comes to loading up Naomi’s plate with food. I can’t vouch for how Naomi is fed while I’m gone, but both me and Jasmine try to fatten her up whenever we can.

But, Naomi has got to have a black hole or something in there because she can just eat, and eat, and eat without ever putting on a single pound. The doctor says she’s healthy and that there’s nothing wrong with her, but even he says she could put on five pounds or so.

Her body just refuses to put on any extra weight.

I wish I had that problem when I was her age. I might be fine now, but basic training would have been easier without that extra fifty pounds I was packing.

Jasmine peeks over every now and then from the kitchen to make sure that Naomi is eating her food and not sharing it with me or somehow hiding it somewhere.

Nope. She’s eating all of it and she’s on her third refill of chocolate milk.

Then there’s Mom, struggling to eat even a fourth of the food on her plate. Jasmine knows that she never finishes her food… but that doesn’t stop her from trying. Plus, it’ll serve as an easy, reheatable meal for the next two days.

“Yo, Lance, you sure you don’t want any good stuff?” Delron asks me.

“Not this time. I’m going on a ride with Naomi later,” I answer.

“Aight! Can’t drive if you can’t even walk straight.”

“Hey, papa, what’s the good stuff?” Naomi asks me.

“Really gross water,” I answer. Delron smirks and walks away. The brat.

“How’s it good if it’s gross?” She sounds confused which just makes her even cuter.

“Because it tastes good to old people.”

“You’re not that old, papa!”

“What are you talking about? I’m an old man. My hair is turning grey and everything.”

“What?!” Naomi sounds shocked. She feels around to find me and then reaches up to touch my hair. She’s probably getting crumbs in it since she’s been eating with her fingers… but screw it.

“You can’t feel colors, angel.”

“But isn’t grey hair bad? Here!” Naomi says, clumsily standing up on the booth seat to grab my head and place a kiss on it. “I’ll get rid of it!”

I’m not sure how that works, and I don’t actually have any grey hairs… but I’m not going to stop her. I do feel bad for Mom and her head of grey hair, though. Naomi has no idea that the real one needing kisses to take away the grey is sitting across from her.

But God help me if I point out Mom’s greying hair. She’s already giving me a pretty nasty look just to make sure I don’t bring it up since she knows I’m thinking it.

“Dear, it’s impolite to stand on seats,” Mom says. “You know better,” she’s talking to me now, “to let her do that!”

“Oops! Sorry,” Naomi says, plopping back down onto the seat. She smacks her rear against it too hard since she lacks all grace, resulting in an “Oof, ouch.”

“Thanks for kissing the grey away, angel. And no more standing on seats in restaurants, alright? Grandma will get angry if you do,” I explain, patting the top of her head before taking a flake of fried fish off of her cheek.

She’s a messy eater in addition to being a glutton.

Once we’re done, Jasmine comes over to give us all big hugs, tells me to be safe, and then the three of us head home.

“Oh, right. Mom, forgot to tell you. You’ll probably like this too, Naomi,” I say. I’ve got Mom holding onto my arm again while Naomi walks with her cane in one hand as her other holds my free hand.

“I remember you mentioning having something to tell me! What is it?” Mom asks.

“I’m getting reassigned. It’s a safe reassignment, don’t worry.” I look over and see Mom holding her hand over her heart. I probably should have started with it being safe. “They’re rotating me out to be a teacher.”

“Ooh! Papa! I want you to teach me!” Naomi asks, hopping up and down as she walks which causes her to almost trip.

Clumsy, gluttonous, messy, adorable, perfect daughter. “I’ll teach you anything you want me to, but I won’t get to be your teacher at school.”

“Aww…. Where are you gonna teach?”

“At an on-base academy. I’m going to be teaching the cadets how to fly.”

“I wanna learn how to fly!”

“You want to open up a restaurant on the moon, remember?” I try to change her mind.

“Well! I’ve got to fly to the moon to get there, silly papa.”

She’s got me there.

“Alright. You’re allowed to learn how to fly spaceships, but that’s it.” There’s no fighting in space.

“Okay! I’ll fly a spaceship to the moon and start a restaurant there!”

“You’ll be the first person to walk on the moon and to start a restaurant at the same time. Pretty ambitious, angel.”

“Ehehe… I’ll do it! I promise!”

No matter how ridiculous some of her ambitious plans might sound, when she tells me that she promises to accomplish them, I have full faith in her to keep her word no matter how impossible they might be. I’ll support her every step of the way no matter what she decides to do as long as it isn’t anything related to the military.

“I’ll be like Auntie in the kitchen and you can be my waiter!” Naomi tells me.

“You just want to boss me around, don’t you?” I ask her.

“Maybe!”

“Lance,” Mom says, “do… do you promise that you’re being reassigned?”

“Yeah, Mom,” I answer, pulling her closer against my side. “I’ll be right over in the base whenever I’m gone.”

“They won’t make you fight anymore?”

I don’t know if they’ll never make me fight again, and I also know that anything other than saying she’s right won’t stop her from worrying about me.

I look down at Naomi.

Making this world a better place for her is the most important thing – my duty as her father. If that means teaching, that means no more fighting. “Yeah, Mom. No more fighting,” I answer.

Naomi’s grip on my hand tightens. She knows that I can’t promise that, but we both hear the relaxed sigh and sniffling coming from my mom.

We walk Mom home and I help her to her bed before grabbing my keychain, helmet, and Naomi’s helmet.

I really need to get her a custom helmet that actually fits her head. This one is too large and always slips down in front of her eyes… which, when I think about it, really isn’t a problem other than looking silly. At least it’s secure on her even if it covers up her eyes.

If there is one thing I treat almost as good as my daughter, it’s my Harley-Davidson XA. Still amazed I was able to get my hands on this. Whenever I’m not spending time on Naomi or military work, I’m working on this baby.

I climb aboard and lift Naomi up onto it, sitting her down in front of me.

“Go super fast!” Naomi orders me.

Thankfully, just going the speed limit is enough to feel “super fast” to her. It’s a good thing she’s never seen how fast I go on empty roads.

“How’s sunset at Kaena sound?” I ask.

“Perfect!” Naomi answers, leaning back against me.

Kaena Point is a little over an hour away, but we’ve got about two hours before sunset, so it should be fine.

I pat my pocket to make sure my gift for her is still in there. At least I have that.

Hopefully, nobody pulls me over since I don’t have my wallet.

We have a peaceful, relaxing drive to Oahu’s western tip.

There are already a few groups of people here either on the trail or sitting around waiting for sunset. Perfect. It would have sucked if there wasn’t anybody here.

Since Naomi can’t see the sunset herself, she enjoys listening to everybody else’s awe at it.

Clear sky, too.

“Howzit brah? Nice ride there. What is it?” one of the locals asks me.

A quick glare sends him away.

Naomi might enjoy listening to others, but I don’t want my time with her interrupted.

“Papa,” Naomi says.

“Yeah?” I ask.

“Did you scare him away?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Good papas don’t lie!”

“All I did was look at him. I guess I’m so ugly that I scared him away without trying.”

“You need to be nice, papa! This is why you don’t have any friends.”

“Why would I need friends when I have you and Mom?”

Naomi giggles, but then she regains her seriousness and says, “You need friends your own age to drink your gross old people thing with!”

“Everybody’s a friend when drinking that, so don’t worry about it.”

“You’re so stubborn! Hmph.”

“I get that a lot.”

Thirty minutes pass by and the sun is finally flirting with the ocean’s edge. A few clouds have popped up here and there, but they only add to the beautiful sight and change in the sky’s color rather than hide it.

The other spectators around us “ooh” and “aww” at the sight. Naomi swivels her head around to whoever she can hear talking about it.

“It’s beautiful, Naomi. It’s bright orange where the sun is, and it gets darker and bluer the farther away from the sun you look. The clouds are making it look pretty heavenly. Not a single one of them is close to covering the sun,” I explain the sight to her. I know she loves this, but I know I can never do a good enough job describing its beauty. One of my dreams is that she’ll be able to see this herself someday.

“I’m happy you’re back, papa. I love you,” Naomi says.

I lean down and kiss the top of her head. “Love you too. Oh, and hold out your hands.”

She knows what’s coming next. Her hands shoot out in front of her and wait for whatever I have to give her.

I feel stupid giving something like this as a present, but… I place it in her hands.

Naomi immediately squeezes it and makes it squeak. It’s not too loud, but it makes her giggle. After squeaking it, she runs her hands all over it to get an idea of its texture and shape.

“What is it?” she asks me.

“A rubber duck,” I answer. It’s what I found back on the beach. It was pretty gross looking back then, and it’s missing an eye, but I was able to get it cleaned up on the voyage back over here.

Anything that makes noise is an instant favorite of hers.

Naomi stands up, turns around and almost trips on my leg, and then wraps her arms around my neck. “Thanks! I love it, papa!” she tells me while happily squeaking the duck whenever it inflates back up.

Only Naomi would be happy with a rubber ducky found washed up on some beach.

As often as I pray for her to someday be able to see, I can’t deny that her not knowing just how horrible of a gifter I am is a pretty nice thing. She probably wouldn’t like it as much if she could see how ugly it still looks even after all my cleaning.

Who am I kidding? She’s enough of an angel that she’d love it even if she could see. I’m pretty sure I could give her a lump of dirt and she’d still say it’s the best present ever.