by Ginny Aiken
“I’d really like to invite myself in, but I have to be at my brother’s house before it gets too late, so I can get all that fishing stuff and make sure everything is okay with the boat.”
His fingers moved slightly, and his thumb drifted to her chin. Sharmane struggled to breathe. Holding hands, which should have been merely an affectionate gesture, had set her insides aflutter, but now his simple touch turned her knees to jelly. She forced herself to clear her throat so she could speak. “Do you want to phone him first?”
He stepped closer. Her heart started to pound. “No, I’ll call him on my cell; I don’t want to get to his house too late, they all have to get up for work in the morning. I’ll be back to pick you up at nine o’clock.”
She could feel a slight pressure as he tipped up her chin. Part of her had been waiting for this moment, but part of her didn’t want it. As much as she liked him, she didn’t know anything about him.
Her eyes drifted shut anyway. His lips brushed hers briefly instead of the longer kiss she’d expected and had come to realize she wanted. He stepped back leaving her feeling strangely disappointed.
“See you tomorrow, Sharmane.”
Chapter 6
Sharmane gasped as Alex pulled up in front of her house. There sat a white pickup which emphasized the perfection of the sleek candy-apple red speedboat behind it. She dashed out of the house leaving the door wide open and was standing beside the boat before Alex fully exited the truck.
She ran her fingers on the smooth finish. She’d never seen a boat like this up close, much less ridden in one. “Your brother let you borrow this?”
He grinned in response. “Pretty nice, huh?”
“This isn’t for fishing. This is a speedboat.”
“He fishes from it. But I think they water-ski mostly.”
“Water-ski?” She pulled her hand back as quickly as if the boat were red-hot.
He grinned. “Don’t worry, I didn’t bring the skis. I didn’t think it would be a good idea to try something like that without having someone experienced along. I only brought the fishing stuff.”
Sharmane let her hand drop to her side. “Oh. Okay.”
He opened the passenger door, where she could see a small tackle box, a net, and two broken-down fishing rods stuffed behind the seat. “Get your stuff, and let’s get going.”
“I packed a lunch, and this time I hope you’re not going to argue with me.”
He laughed again, spreading warmth from Sharmane’s heart to the tips of her toes. “I knew you would. Thank you.”
She dashed into the house and returned with her backpack and camera, and they were on their way.
Sharmane carefully read his brother’s handwritten directions to the Pitt River, where after much tribulation, Alex managed to back the trailer into the water and set the boat afloat. Soon everything they needed was stowed, and they were gliding north on their way to Pitt Lake, which was only accessible by boat.
The wind pushed Sharmane’s hair back as she leaned slightly over the side, where her face wasn’t sheltered by the small windshield. “This is so different than the ocean. It’s so fresh and clean.”
“Stan says this is a tidal lake. Except for it being fresh water, it’s almost like the ocean. Except it’s inland.”
Sharmane laughed. “Those things make it not like the ocean at all.”
The waterway widened, and Alex steered the boat into the center. The sparkling glossy red speedboat seemed drastically out of place in the pristine natural setting. The water was glassy smooth, so still that Sharmane could see perfect reflections of the blue sky and fluffy clouds above. Trees and boulders lined the shore, the varying shades of green also reflected in the water so perfectly it was like looking in a mirror, except for a slight ripple of the lake’s surface. She snapped a couple pictures, knowing she could never completely capture the undefiled beauty on film.
Sharmane inhaled deeply, fully enjoying the scent of the water mingled with the pure woodsy scent of the trees.
The boat slowed, gradually drifting to a stop. “This seems like as good a spot as any.”
She almost didn’t feel right about being here, it was so perfect, but she could see other boats floating around closer to the shore. Another motorboat appeared briefly in the distance, turned around, and sped away, fading into the distance of the long lake. “How do you tell which spots are best for fishing?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know.”
“Are we supposed to just let the boat float, or are we supposed to be driving slowly? Or is there an anchor or something?”
“I don’t know that either.”
“Much good you are. And when we catch our fish, do you have any idea what to do with it?”
He raised one finger in the air. “Yes. Stan says it’s catch and release-only here. You have to let it go.”
Her smile dropped. “Let it go? What’s the point of fishing then?”
Again, he shrugged his shoulders. “It’s a sport. The challenge of human versus fish. I have no intention of cutting open a fish and scooping out its innards, do you?”
Sharmane shuddered at the thought. “Catch and release will be fine.”
Alex patted his shirt pocket. “Stan said we catch it, scoop it into the net, take the hook out of its mouth, pat it, and let it go. I’ve got the fishing licenses right here. Let’s get started.”
He pulled two white beat-up hats out from under the seat and plunked one on her head then the other on his. “These are Stan and Jason’s fishing hats. Necessary equipment, they say.”
Before she could think of a reply, he slotted the two fishing rods together, opened the tackle box, then pulled out a folded up piece of paper. “They told me that we can use either lures or flies to fish, depending on what kind of fish we want to catch.”
“You mean we get a choice?”
He held up a shiny metal thing with a multi-edged hook dangling from it. “According to Stan, this kind of thing,” he shook it for emphasis, “is a type of lure called a Wobbler.”
Sharmane examined it. “What kind of fish does it catch?”
“I don’t know. But I think he said you catch salmon and trout with flies.” He opened the second slot and picked up a long skinny thing made with pink and white feathers fastened to a single hook. “This is a fly. There’s a bunch of different kinds here. There’s a Hootchie, a Rolled Muddler, a Doc Spratley, and that one is called a Woolly-something-or-other. He told me a few more, but I didn’t write them all down.”
“Oh, those are too cute to get all wet and let a fish put one in its mouth. What about those?” She pointed to the third drawer.
“These are called spinners.” He held one up. “If I remember correctly, this one is called a Dragonfly, but Stan spoke so fast, I don’t remember the other names. It was hard enough to write down the names of the flies.”
“What’s the difference?”
He opened his mouth at the same time as he shrugged his shoulders.
Sharmane lifted her palms toward him to silence him. “Let me guess, you don’t know.”
“You guessed right.” He started to fasten the pretty pink fly to one of the lines. “I think you should use the pink one. It looks like something a woman should use. I’ll use this green one.”
“If your brother does so much fishing and even has a boat, how come you don’t go with him?”
“No time. It’s not something I did as a boy, either. My family went to church on Sunday, not fishing. Stan and Jason tend to go Saturdays, but they don’t go as often as they used to, now that Jason’s seventeen.”
Sharmane did a little mental calculating on the age of Alex’s brother. “You must be the youngest, and Stan is the oldest right?”
“Uh-huh,” he mumbled, sticking his tongue out the corner of his mouth as he threaded the line through the hole to fasten the pretty green feathered thing to the other line. He waved one hand in the air and grinned. “Ladies first.”
; “I don’t know what to do.”
“Put your thumb on the reel, release the catch, hold the rod over your shoulder, and cast. I’ll wait for you to do it first.”
“Thanks a lot,” she muttered.
Doing exactly as instructed, Sharmane rested the rod on her shoulder then moved it slightly with every count, readying herself to cast it out. “One … Two … Thr—”
“Wait! Stop! You’ve hooked me!”
Sharmane dropped the rod to the boat floor with a clatter. The sight of Alex holding the hook on his shoulder made her feel faint at what she’d done. “Alex! I’m sorry! Where’s the first aid kit!”
He shook his head. “You just got my shirt, not me. Can you pull it out so it doesn’t rip?”
She couldn’t stop her fingers from trembling, but she did manage to work the hook out of the fabric without leaving a hole. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. Try again. This time, I’ll stand farther away.”
“I don’t think this was such a good idea.”
“Nonsense. No damage was done.”
This time she stood at the back of the boat, while Alex stood in the front. She swung the rod with all her might and let the line go.
Alex peered down over the side of the boat. “I think you’re supposed to cast the flies as far as you can over the surface of the water and drag it in, not send it straight down.”
“I told you I’d never done this before.” She reeled it in then laid her rod down. “Your turn.”
Alex made a great show of patting his hat, sitting straight and tall, and squaring his shoulders. Sharmane didn’t know why he was trying so hard to look superior, when the silly hat totally negated his efforts.
He cleared his throat and cast. Sharmane watched it go almost straight up and then fall straight down about eight feet off the side of the boat. “You didn’t do any better than I did.”
He reeled it in. “We’ll get the hang of this. This is supposed to be relaxing.”
After a number of attempts, their casting improved and soon they were able to cast out a fair distance. They tried casting out at the same time off opposite sides of the boat but kept clashing rods, so they decided to take turns casting from the same side. Besides, Sharmane was in no rush to get a fish. They would only be letting it go.
Alex took his turn to cast. “I cast mine farther than you did.”
“Did not.”
“Did too.”
“Says who?”
“Bet I catch the first fish.”
“Bet you don’t.”
“Even if I don’t, mine will be bigger.”
“No way.” Sharmane laid her rod on the bottom of the boat and leaned over the side. She slapped the water, splashing a few drops on him. “Take that!”
“Hey! No fair!” He finished reeling in his empty fly and then turned with a grin that Sharmane didn’t want to interpret. “Your turn,” he said, a little too sweetly.
“I think it’s time we had lunch, don’t you think?”
“Coward.”
She held out a container and smiled back sweetly. “With or without mustard?”
He accepted it but didn’t open it. He dipped one hand over the side, scooped out a palm full of water, and threw it at her.
“Hey!” Sharmane grabbed the net, dipped it in the water, then wiggled it over his head so droplets splashed all over him.
Alex dipped his hat over the side of the boat and then tossed the water at her, but Sharmane saw it coming and ducked, only getting hit by a few stray drops.
“Stop it, Alex; you’re rocking the boat too much!”
“I can swim.”
She opened her mouth to retort, but the words left her. Alex had plopped the limp, wet hat back on his head. A few drops of water trickled down his cheek, and he sat completely still, grinning like an idiot, waiting.
Sharmane had never seen him like this, but from the brilliance of his smile and the simple joy in his face, it struck her that he needed to goof around more often.
All week long, since she couldn’t figure out what he wasn’t telling her, she tried to understand why. Up until now, he’d been reserved, almost formal, despite the casual activities they’d chosen.
Now, she finally put her finger on it. Alex was that one person who was lonely in a crowd, although she didn’t know why. Perhaps she would never know the reason for his secrets, but they no longer mattered. If by goofing around together she had helped him find whatever he was looking for, she thanked God she could help her Christian brother.
When they first agreed to spend the week together, it had been Alex’s suggestion that at the end of the week, they part as friends, along with the unspoken statement that they would never see each other again. If he needed this week to sort out his private dilemmas, then that was the way it would be. It was a week she would never forget, and she had to be thankful for the company. This vacation had turned into more fun than she ever could have realized.
“Never mind. I surrender. Now let’s eat lunch and catch a fish.”
She wasn’t surprised when Alex reached for her hands as they prayed over their sandwiches. What did surprise her was that she realized when their vacation was over, she would miss him.
After their lunch was finished, Alex cast his fly while Sharmane stuffed the empty containers into her backpack.
Alex went stiff. “I caught something!”
Sharmane dropped the backpack. His line was tight and the fishing rod curved with tension as he struggled to reel in a fighting fish. Up until now, she’d considered fishing boring, but now her heart was pounding and she had to restrain herself from shouting to cheer him on as he pitted his limited skill against the fish.
She grabbed the net and leaned to the side of the boat, ready to scoop it up.
To her shock, he braced his feet wide apart and stood. The boat rocked perilously.
“What are you doing! Sit down!”
“I can’t! I have to pull it in!” He pulled the rod over his shoulder, winding furiously, making the boat rock even worse.
Sharmane frantically grabbed onto the side of the boat, leaning to the side in an attempt to counterbalance Alex as he leaned his weight backward against the pull of the fish. “You don’t have to do anything!” she yelled. “We’re only going to let it go anyway.”
He leaned forward and yanked again. “It’s the principle of the thing.”
“I refuse to drown because of a principle!”
One final yank and the fish cleared the water. The thing was well over a foot long and thrashed so hard she didn’t know how she was going to fit it in the net. Alex staggered back, then landed on his behind on the seat, making the boat rock even worse. Sharmane fumbled for the net and tried to capture the wriggling fish, but because of the fish’s struggles and the motion of the boat, she couldn’t get it in the net. Finally, Alex let the fish drop to the floor, so she dropped the net and clambered to subdue it with her hands.
“Yuck! It’s slimy!”
Alex dropped his rod and also attempted to still the fish. “Of course it’s slimy. It’s a fish.”
Together they pinned the squirming fish to the floor.
“I don’t think it’s good for it to be out of the water,” Sharmane ground out between her teeth.
Alex nodded so fast the soggy hat fell off. “You hold it still, and I’ll get the hook out if its mouth. Ready?”
Sharmane did her best to wrap both hands around it while Alex used the pliers from his brother’s tackle box to pry the hook out of the fish’s mouth as best as he could.
“Don’t hurt it! Look, it’s got a hole in its chin.” She couldn’t believe the burn of tears starting in the back of her eyes in sympathy for a dumb fish as she rose to her knees to start the process of putting the poor injured thing back in the water.
“Wait. I haven’t patted it yet.”
She lifted her head, about to tell him her thoughts on that, but the second she made eye contact, she saw
Alex holding her camera with a napkin.
“Smile!”
“Now just a—”
The click of the camera silenced her. He touched the wiggling fish’s head. “There. I patted it. Now put it back.”
As gently as she could manage the thrashing fish, she bent over the side and nearly had the fish into the water when she heard another click.
“You didn’t just take a picture of my rear—”
He grinned defiantly. “I want this one for my collection. I’ll call it, ‘Returning To the Wild.’ Maybe I should enter it in a photography contest. I’d probably win.”
The fish landed in the water with a splash. Rather than watch it swim away, Sharmane turned toward Alex about to tell him what she thought of his photography skills, but he took one look at her and burst out laughing.
Sharmane pressed her lips together and lunged for him, making the boat shift with the sudden movement. Sharmane felt herself about to fall, so she grabbed the front of his shirt to steady herself before she fell overboard. The combination of the rocking boat and abrupt motion caused both of them to drop to their knees.
The strong scent of the fish from her hands, which were entangled in his shirt, wafted between them. She stared at the way she was holding his shirt, unable to believe what she had done. He looked down too, but all he did was laugh.
She gave him a gentle shake. “What’s gotten into you?”
Alex opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He didn’t have an answer. All he could think of was how they were, how he only had to move a couple of inches, and he was in the perfect position to kiss her.
He didn’t want to touch her with his slimy hands, and he couldn’t drop her camera, so he relaxed his body, and her firm grip naturally drew them closer, although he was sure that was not her intent.
Before she could realize what he was doing, he tilted his head and claimed her mouth with his own, kissing her the way he had wanted to for days. And with his kiss, he gave her the last piece of his heart.
Gradually, they separated. He tried to analyze her dazed expression, hoping and praying what was happening to her was even a fraction of what was happening to him. If there had been any doubt before, he now knew for sure that he had fallen in love.