Fisher of Men

Home > Other > Fisher of Men > Page 5
Fisher of Men Page 5

by Phoebe Alexander


  Much to her dismay, there was a tall man with a very friendly and intrigued-looking chocolate lab springing toward them. Leah couldn't tell if the other dog was more interested in her or in Glory, but before she could ponder the situation in any greater detail, the chocolate lab was inches away from Glory, sniffing her rear end as dogs do by way of greeting each other. Leah glanced up to see if the owner was going to exercise any control over the beast, who was obviously much larger and more aggressive than Glory. When he was only a foot away, the man pushed his mirrored sunglasses up onto his blonde-streaked hair and locked eyes with Leah as he began to apologize.

  Holy cow, it's Chris Sheldon! Those deep teal eyes could belong to no one else! Of course, if I'm going to fall on the beach, it really must be as humiliating as possible, she mused. “Oh, hey Captain Sheldon...Leah Miller from The Pearl.” She stood up as gracefully as she could manage and pulled Glory's leash to force the pup back to her side. Then she realized she'd dropped her shoes in the fall and they were washing out in the surf. “Oh, crap! My shoes!” she shrieked. So much for graceful, she thought with embarrassment.

  Captain Sheldon jerked his lab's leash and ordered, “Go get those shoes!” as he pointed to them bobbing in the waves. As if the dog perfectly understood English, he charged into the water and returned in mere seconds with the pair of shoes clutched in his jaws. The captain laughed and patted the wet dog on the head. “Good boy!” he exclaimed, turning to Leah with the heels outstretched toward her. “Guess they don't call them retrievers for nothin', huh?”

  Leah laughed, but it came out of her mouth as a high-pitched squeak instead of the elegant, melodic ringing she'd tried to channel à la Casey Fontaine. Glory was going completely nuts trying to chase Captain Sheldon's dog who had run off down the beach, basking in the freedom his owner had just granted him. He seemed to be claiming his prize for fetching Leah's shoes and Glory was insanely jealous. “What's your dog's name?” she asked him, trying to replace his memory of her squeaky cackle with something less mortifying.

  “It's 'Keeper,'” he revealed. “You know, like 'this fish is a keeper?'” He grinned and the dimples she'd remembered over and over again since their initial meeting were coaxed out of hiding.

  Leah chuckled, a bit more relaxed this time, her throat feeling less constricted. “I figured as much. My beagle is named Glory,” she reciprocated, pulling the leash a little tighter so that her pup momentarily gave up her quest for freedom and sat down by her owner's still bare feet.

  “'Glory?' That's an unusual name for a dog,” he observed. “Although I guess 'Keeper' isn't an everyday sorta name either, is it?”

  “She was born on the Fourth of July,” Leah explained with a smile. She patted the beagle affectionately on the head and she tried to jump up on Leah's legs, getting even more sand on her wet skirt in the process.

  “Love it,” he assured her, the dimples still in view. Keeper had made the rounds up to the boardwalk and then back down to the surf and was returning to them now, as if to further rub it in Glory's face that he was untethered and she was not. “Oh, let them play a little!” he encouraged her.

  She didn't want to let go. Glory was still a puppy and she wasn't sure what she'd do with her first taste of freedom, so she compromised by letting her leash out several yards. The beagle instantly followed Keeper back into the waves. For a moment Leah and the captain stood watching their dogs splash and play in the surf as they got acquainted. Why is it so easy for dogs and so awkward for humans? Leah wondered. Maybe we'd have an easier time if we started by sniffing each other’s behinds!

  Captain Sheldon stared down the deserted beach, checking to see if anyone was around who could overhear their conversation. “So I guess we have another party coming up at The Pearl,” he broke the silence.

  “That's my understanding,” Leah said vaguely, not wanting to reveal that she had spoken with Casey Fontaine earlier. She did not underestimate the importance of discretion.

  “You gonna tend bar again?” he asked, his blue eyes gleaming in the late afternoon sun. Leah thought she detected a hint of hopefulness in his query but wasn't sure.

  “I hope I won't be subjecting anyone to my less-than-skilled bartending this time, although I do believe I will be on the premises that evening,” Leah predicted, seamlessly slipping into work mode.

  He stared at her for a moment as if he was trying to negotiate his next move. She realized that the way his eyes bore into her meant he couldn't care less about her professional obligations. I think this what they call eye-fucking, she mused, unsure whether to be flattered or offended. “Do you want to grab some coffee or something?” he finally asked.

  Leah felt her spine stiffen as she realized her perceptions had been completely on the money, that he really was hitting on her. In less than thirty seconds she ran all sorts of scenarios through her head, a feat she had perfected in the course of her job. She often had to decide very quickly how to respond to a guest or staff member so that the outcome would not only uphold the policies of The Pearl but provide the greatest satisfaction to the people involved as well. But, she reminded herself, this is not work and my job is not to make him happy. She was glad she had consciously delineated the boundaries because something about those dimples and those eyes and the way his strong hands affectionately stroked down Keeper's wet fur made her wonder what it would be like to please him.

  “I've really got to get Glory home and then get back to work,” Leah apologized through a sincere smile.

  His dimples went back into hiding. “Ah, okay, some other time then?”

  “Sure,” she agreed, but in that Midwestern way of saying what the other person wants to hear. I really shouldn't get involved with this man, she cautioned herself. Seems like it would be a huge mistake; you know, separation of work and pleasure, he's a swinger and...need I go on?

  “Great!” he exclaimed, considering her response an issued rain check. “Have a good afternoon at work and I'll see you at the Christmas party.” He reached out to touch her on the arm, then added, “If not before.”

  His fingers felt warm and dry even though he had just been petting his dog's cold, wet fur. And it felt like he was touching a much larger surface area than just two tiny inches on her forearm. Even when he pulled away, she still felt the impression of his fingers burning into her flesh. “See you later, Captain Sheldon,” she offered, returning to her business-like tone, confident in her choice.

  “Please,” he implored, returning his fingers to the same spot. “Call me Cap.”

  FOUR

  Yes, it is good to abstain from sexual relations. But because there is so much sexual immorality, each man should have his own wife, and each woman should have her own husband. The husband should fulfill his wife’s sexual needs, and the wife should fulfill her husband’s needs. The wife gives authority over her body to her husband, and the husband gives authority over his body to his wife. -1 Corinthians 7:1-4

  The sanctuary was crowded. Leah couldn't tell if that was because there were really that many more people in attendance or if it was because the Christmas decorations had shrunk the empty space. Christmastime already? she shrugged to herself. Where did the fall go? She had worked Thanksgiving and now all of the sudden it was December. She felt like life was passing right before her eyes, a hazy dream she was vaguely aware of but which could not be controlled.

  The worship band was warming up on stage and she heard the drummer drop his stick on the snare drum, crashing against a cymbal on its way down. After the subsequent metallic echo faded, she heard the bass guitarist pluck a few strings. The song leader was checking microphone cords to make sure everyone was plugged in. She witnessed some signaling to a couple of men in the sound booth at the back of the church.

  Even with three Christmas trees aglow and the nativity set on the altar, not to mention the abundant boughs of greenery adorned with burgundy velvet bows and affixed to the brass sconces along the perimeter of the room, Leah was having a hard time
getting into the Christmas spirit. Even when the pianist began to plunk out a jazzy, contemporary rendition of “Angels We Have Heard On High,” it all seemed forced and fake to Leah. Maybe I'm just going to be a Grinch this year, she sighed to herself.

  She was still thinking about the conversation she'd had with her mother the day before. Despite what she'd told Aimee about her mother being too distracted by her brother's engagement to miss her for the holidays, Mrs. Miller laid a thick, sticky guilt trip on Leah. “It just won't be the same without my baby girl here!” she had whined.

  “I know, Mom, but I don't have that many days off and besides I feel like I really need to go to Philly to help Aimee out with the baby when he or she arrives. She really wants me there.” Leah felt bad about lying to her mother, but wasn't this justified? Wouldn't her mother let her off the hook if she thought she was taking care of someone else in lieu of visiting?

  “Well, do you think you can come home later in the winter? Maybe in February or March? You can help us with the wedding plans. I don't think your brother's future mother-in-law is going to do much and besides, you're so knowledgeable on these types of things being in the biz and all,” Mrs. Miller coaxed her.

  Hearing the word “biz” come out of her mother's mouth like that cracked Leah up. It always amused her when either one of her parents attempted to speak colloquially. “Sure, Mom, I'll see what I can do.” It pacified the woman for the time being.

  Leah shook the memory of the conversation out of her mind and closed her eyes, trying to prepare herself for worship. She sat with her legs primly crossed, her skirt pulled down conservatively over her thighs and covering part of her knee. She had noticed that one member of the worship team's black velvet dress fell a good three or four inches above the knee. “That's scandalous!” her mother would have screamed, outraged. Leah noticed the girl wore an antique filigree cross suspended from a gold chain around her neck which she probably felt excused the short hem. Aimee would have called that look “slutty religious.” Leah smirked and closed her eyes again, still trying to focus on worship, but her leg was bouncing almost uncontrollably.

  What is my problem today? she wondered. I am clearly not feeling this worship thing. Her church was down near the inlet and in moments her mind was wandering over to Captain Sheldon's shop. I can't imagine what he does on Sunday mornings. I'm sure it's not church. She envisioned him sprawled in bed, tangled in the covers with Keeper curled up at his feet. But is there anyone else in bed beside him? her mind couldn't keep itself from journeying in that direction.

  Ever since she'd run into him on the beach a few days before, her interest in him was renewed. He asked me out but I said no, she realized. That was my gut reaction, to say no. But why? Would it really be wrong to go out with him? Then she remembered her remark to Aimee regarding the notion of dating a swinger. “It was completely ridiculous,” she had said. But still, her curiosity was piqued. What was it like...being a swinger? How did people become swingers? How in the world am I daring to have these thoughts in church? She glanced around at the worshipful faces of the congregation. She would have bet money that none of them were thinking of swinging.

  It had been a very long time since Leah had gone on a date or even had an extended conversation with someone bearing a Y chromosome. She couldn't really count work-related discussions with Barry or anyone on staff, and she rarely dealt with male guests who had complaints. Most of the time, those came from females. She had gone on a few dates when she first arrived in Ocean City, but those were during summertime; most of those men were visiting from other states. Some of them didn't live terribly far away, but all major cities were at least 2-3 hours from Ocean City: Baltimore, Washington DC, Philadelphia. They were pretty isolated out on the Delmarva Peninsula, separated from the mainland by the Chesapeake Bay. She didn't relish the idea of a long distance relationship, especially when it was so hard for her to get off the shore and away from work.

  She tried to erase her mind of thoughts of Cap, as if he was just a symbol of a bigger problem. She was lonely and wished she had someone outside of work to spend time with. Maybe it's time to think about an online dating site, she considered, barely noticing that the lights in the sanctuary had dimmed and the two female vocalists were singing a hypnotic rendition of “Mary Did You Know” while holding flickering candles. Leah watched the way the flames stretched and retreated, twisted and danced in the darkness. She observed how the flames highlighted the chins and noses of the two vocalists and cast shadows all across the stage. It was the first time in a long time she had admitted to herself that she was lonely. She closed her eyes and prayed, I'm ready, Lord, I'm ready now. I want to meet him.

  “I did a totally crazy thing!” Leah gushed into her phone which was balanced between her shoulder and her ear. She was simultaneously trying to cook dinner and keep Glory out of the trash that desperately needed to be taken out. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I wasn't multitasking, she was fond of saying. That Sunday night was no exception.

  “What's that?” Aimee inquired. “I hope it's something wild and crazy and totally out of character for you, girl, because I'm so big and knocked up right now I can't even get out of my chair, let alone go on any adventures!”

  “Yeah and once the baby comes, your adventures are going to consist of cleaning spit-up and changing stinky diapers!” Leah teased her friend.

  “I know, I know, but just think about how damn cute of a baby I'm baking in there!” Aimee exclaimed. “I'm sure all the icky parts will be well worth it.”

  Leah's mind conjured up an image of a chubby-cheeked, cherubic baby with tufts of downy black hair springing off its soft little head. Aimee and her husband were both Italian so it wasn't too difficult to imagine what their offspring might look like. “True, true,” Leah agreed. Then she decided to stop beating around the bush. “Okay, so here's the deal: I made a profile on an online dating site!”

  Her friend's initial reaction was a shrill cackle of disbelief. “I guess you really are desperate!” Aimee poked fun at her, possibly thinking Leah's admission had, in fact, been in jest. The silence on the other end of the line alerted Aimee that her response was not well-received. “Oh, sweetie, I'm just being silly. No one wants you to find a man more than I do!” There was a pause. “Well, except maybe for your mom.” Bringing up the Millers' antiquated and traditional expectations for their daughter was usually a surefire way to garner a snicker, yet silence prevailed. Aimee cleared her throat and her tone softened like caramel under heat. “So....tell me about the site you joined.”

  Leah knew it was ridiculous to be upset by Aimee's ribbing, but she was embarrassed and more than a little anxious about her choice. “It's just a free site,” she said with a catch in her voice, like her larynx was being lassoed by a rope of phlegm. Yeah, just what was my thought process here? she desperately wondered. A couple of hours ago, it all made perfect sense.

  “You know, I ran into that swinger guy the other day on the beach.” She felt better changing the subject. Maybe I shouldn't have created the profile. I feel like such an idiot! She buried her face in her hands as she awaited her friend's reaction to this new revelation.

  “Oh yeah?” Aimee simply asked, no detectable tone of judgment this time.

  “Yeah, he has a cute chocolate lab named Keeper, who went into the water to fetch my shoes which I'd dropped. He asked me for coffee...”

  “The dog?” Aimee laughed, realizing that the former tension between the pair had evaporated.

  “No, silly, the guy!” Leah was giggling now too. “His name is Chris but he goes by Cap.”

  “Cap? What the hell kind of name is that?” Aimee demanded, but her voice was still colored with laughter.

  “He's a fishing boat captain,” Leah explained. “Anyway, I said no. But I wanted to say yes....” She couldn't believe she was admitting this. “Kinda...,” she quickly qualified.

  Aimee was the silent one this time as if she was considering the ramification
s of her best friend agreeing to coffee with a swinger. “Eh,” came her final ruling, “Coffee's no big deal. You should have gone. You are so out of practice talking to men except in the context of work...it'd probably have been good for you!”

  Leah's heart raced a bit. She'd never expected to receive Aimee's blessing on the venture. “You act like I've been living in an all-female commune or something!” she laughed. “Do you really think I'm that out of touch with the dating world?”

  “I'm sure you do a great job communicating at work,” Aimee assured her. “But I remember it always took you awhile to get warmed up back when we were in college. And by warmed up, I mean drunk. And since I'm assuming you're not drinking anymore...”

  As much as she hated reflecting on her year of debauchery, she knew that Aimee was right. “Liquid courage” was aptly named. “I wasn't drunk,” she defended herself. “I just needed a couple of drinks to loosen up.”

  “Right. But still...when was the last time you had a drink?” Aimee questioned. “Hell, when was the last time I had a drink?”

  Leah reflected back on the past few months and had trouble accessing any memory of alcohol consumption. “Um, I think I had a daiquiri when I came up to visit you right before I got Glory...does that sound right?”

  “Seriously, Leah, you need to cut yourself some slack. You haven't had a drink since the summer, you haven't had sex in like three years. Girl, you are wound so tight it's amazing you haven't exploded yet! I don't know how you do it...all this deprivation! It's all I can do to abstain from alcohol for the baby but at least I'm still getting laid regularly!”

  “I know, I know,” Leah conceded. She knew Aimee had a valid point. In some ways, when she'd started at The Pearl she felt like she'd made a bargain with God, still trying to atone for the sins of her college days. If I just walk the straight and narrow, God will bless me, was the conclusion at which she'd arrived. And for a few years now, it had held true.

 

‹ Prev