“Sorry, Amelia Baker, I have no idea who you are.”
“That’s OK.”
“So, I won’t be taking your picture or asking you any questions if that’s OK with you. I’m just going to camp here a few days, catch some bluefish, eat them and then, move on.”
OK,” she said and started back toward her cottage.
“Ever have fresh blue fish, Amelia Baker,” he said and she came back to him, “I’m going to cook them right over that fire and eat them with my fingers, nothing quite like it.”
“No, I’ve never had fresh blue fish.” He told her to come back later in the evening, and he’d cook one for her. She thanked him, said she’d see what was going on, maybe she would. She apologized for being so rude to him, and he said it was nothing to worry about. She went back into her cottage, but she kept an eye on him most of the day. He stayed in his spot pulling in fish after fish. He was filling his tub. As the afternoon wore on, people would stop and talk to him. Late in the day, a guy showed up with a tub of his own and bought about a dozen of fish from the man. They made the exchange, shook hands and then, he carried his tub off, leaving the fisherman alone with his rods.
Later in the evening, she stepped out into her back patio and looked down on the beach. He was still there but now, there were a few more people. The fire was bigger, there was music and there were men and women drinking and standing around his campsite. She felt a little sad. She was sort of looking forward to sitting on the beach with him and eating some fish. Now, she assumed he had told some people she was there that she was going to join him later and so, they had shown up to meet her. She was about to go inside when she heard a hushed voice from the bottom of the stairs.
“Hey, Amanda Baker.”
“Amelia,” she corrected him. He laughed and apologized.
“Listen, I have some fish here. These folks showed up and, since you were so squirmy about me taking your picture, I didn’t think you’d come down when you saw the crowd.” He came up a few steps but stayed away. He held out a paper plate with a huge piece of grilled fish on it. “But, you know, I promised you a taste of this so...” She came down the steps and took the plate.
“Thanks, what’s your name?”
“Neil,” he told her and turned to go.
“Say, Neil,” she said, and he stopped, “is it OK if I still come down?”
“Sure.”
“Your friends won’t mind?”
“Not really my friends, I just have a fire and the fish, so it kind of happened around me. That’s what happens around here.” She thought about it for a moment and then, she went down the stairs and joined the party on the beach. Everyone was polite, but no one seemed to know who she was. After the initial shock of that she settled in, enjoyed the music, had a few beers and ate fish, which turned out to be incredible. The night moved on, Neil still tended his rods, and there was always a fish grilling over the fire.
“That was really nice,” Amelia said to Neil. Everyone else had gone, leaving the two of them alone. He said he was glad she enjoyed herself. “I did and, seriously, the fish, amazing.” They sat by the fire and talked for about half an hour longer and then he said he wanted to get some sleep. They said good night, she walked up the stairs, he climbed into his tent.
***
The next morning she brought him a cup of coffee, but he already had a pot brewing over the fire. His lines were out, and he had pulled in three fish, which were swimming in the tub. She drank coffee and sat with him for most of the day. The guy with the tub that she had seen the day before showed up, and Neil sold him another dozen fish. Turned out he was a chef at a local place, and he often bought blue from Neil. He said hello to Amelia but had no idea who she was.
She also learned that Neil was sort of a local celebrity. He supplied several of the local shops with fish during the season. He moved up and down the beach, fishing different spots. Every night, locals would show up at his camp and have an impromptu party. They would supply alcohol, dope, music, and he would grill the fish. As the day slipped by, people started to show up again. She said she’d run and get some party supplies and drove into town. In the liquor store, she ran into Marla.
“Hey,” Marla said, “how’s it going out there, you getting some peace?” Amelia told her about Neil, the fish and the parties on the beach. She also remarked how happy she was that no one knew her. “It’s exactly the situation I wanted.”
Marla said she was happy for her, and they parted. Amelia went back to the beach, and a large party was in full swing. She brought liquor, cups, and mixers down to the beach in a cooler she had filled with ice. Neil introduced her around and, for some reason she was thankful for this, several people knew who she was. Neil was kind of surprised; he admitted that he thought she was kidding when she told him that she was kind of famous. The people who knew her at the party gave him a hard time about that and this too, made her feel a little better. The party went late and again, Amelia stayed until it was just she and Neil left. They sat by the fire enjoying the sound of the ocean.
“Is this thing comfortable?” she asked Neil referring to the tent.
“It serves its purpose. I wouldn’t live in it all my life, but for the season, it’s OK.” She went quiet. “Would you... I mean if you’d like you can stay in my place.” He looked her over.
“Maybe, I don’t know, I might get performance anxiety, I’ve never slept with someone famous before.” She suddenly felt very shy and blushed. He laughed. They sat for a while longer and then she said she was going up. He told her he would douse the fire, and he would be right up. She went up and waited. After about half an hour, he knocked on the back window and she let him in.
“Can I shower,” he asked. “I kinda smell like the beach and fish and fire.” She led him to the bathroom. He undressed right in front of her, didn’t wait for her to leave the room, didn’t seem to be inhibited at all. She started to leave, and he told her to stay. “Gimme like, five minutes to wash the stink off and then, why don’t you join me.” She was a little taken aback by how confident and forward he was. Since she had become famous, guys had been a little timid around her. Not Neil. She agreed and sat on the toilet talking to him while he showered.
After a while, he tapped on the glass shower door and motioned for her to come in. She stood and undressed slowly, turning her back to him and then trying to cover herself as she stepped into the shower with him. As soon as she was in the shower, hot water caressing her body, he took her. He pulled her to him, kissed her and slowly, deftly, made love to her in the shower. He was good and something about his confidence, the fact that he didn’t know her, wasn’t a stupid movie star, allowed her to relax, and she was able to have an incredible orgasm. He stayed in her bed that night and in the morning, very early, before the sun was up, he woke her to tell her had to set his lines. Before he left, he made love to her again, leaving her sated, relaxed and happy in the bed alone.
***
She woke again several hours later and walked out to the back patio. Neil was working his lines. She watched him dance between them, pulling in fish, tending his fire. She made coffee and went down to join him. He was easy to be with. He was simple, focused, interesting, and she felt quite comfortable being with him. And so it went for a few weeks. They would spend the day on the beach, fishing, the evenings a party would happen. In between, men from various restaurants would arrive and buy fish from him. A simple life, a perfect vacation. It was just what she had wanted. Some nights, she would stay in the tent with him, and they would make love with the sound of the surf right outside the tent flaps. She loved this, being close to the power of the ocean, feeling like at any time the waves would just take her under. The sex, on those nights, was particularly incredible.
“I really like that you don’t know who I am,” she said one night as they sat by the fire, waiting for the party to form around them.
“I know who you are now,” he said, “I mean, I still haven’t seen one of your movie
s or anything, but you know, now I know you.” This struck her. He did know her. Not in the sense that other people did when they stopped her and said I know you. He did know her. He knew her as just a girl on the beach who liked fish, who liked to hang out, who was interesting, who was smart and who was easy to be with. He knew her, not the famous her. This was what she was looking for when she had decided to take a break. Neil protected her. He introduced her to people, but because he wasn’t a fan or in awe of her celebrity, when he introduced her, she came off as just a girl he knew. It usually took people a little while before they recognized her and, once they did, they didn’t make a big deal out of it. She was hiding in plain sight. It was working. She was having an anonymous vacation. Just what she needed.
***
“Tonight’s going to be the last party,” he told her one morning when she walked onto the beach with coffee for them both. “The run is done, I have to pack up, get back to my regular life.” She was a little shocked. She had figured, somehow that Neil would just be there for the rest of the time she was there. He had been hanging out on the beach, fishing, having parties, making love to her for about three weeks. She just assumed he would be there and that she would be the one to leave. She wasn’t ready for it to end.
“Oh,” she said, “I thought...”
“What,” he asked, “you thought that I just did this all the time?” She admitted that she did. He laughed. Told her he was actually a stockbroker, and this was what he did for vacation every year. “But, all good things,” he said as he pulled a large blue in and tossed it into the tub. “Going to be a good day,” he told her, I’m going to catch a lot of fish, we’re going to have a great party and then...” he made a motion with his hands like an explosion. She laughed, and they set about fishing, talking and being together. She was happy but deep inside, she was fighting a sadness that she hadn’t expected.
He had been right. He caught a ton of fish that day and sold almost all of it to three different guys. He saved enough for the evening’s festivities, and he kept his lines in all night long, occasionally pulling in a few blues. They drank and danced. They ate and when the night was done, when everyone was gone, she took him inside and she made love to him until the morning.
***
“Well,” he said as they stood beside his truck, all his gear had been packed, “I really had a great time. It was a pleasure to meet you.”
“You too,” she said and wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed him and made him promise to watch one of her movies. He said he’d try, but protested that he wasn’t much into movies or Hollywood.
“Just a simple fisherman,” he told her and kissed her again. She told him that was why she liked him so much.
“You get to this point in your life, and everyone wants something from you,” she confessed to him, “you just wanted to hang out and eat fish.”
“Well,” he said, “the sex wasn’t too bad either.” She laughed and playfully punched him. He climbed into his truck and took off, waving to her as he pulled away. She watched him go and then, she took a long, long walk on the beach.
***
Next morning, she sat on the beach, in the spot where Neil had his camp and watched the waves as she drank her coffee. She still had two months left on her vacation. On her disappearance. Suddenly, two months seemed like a very long time. She walked the beach again, but when she came back, she looked at the empty spot on the beach and got melancholy.
“That’s right, Camille,” she said on the phone as she got into the rental, “you get your wish, I’m coming back.” She told Camille that she just couldn’t stay away any longer. She told her about Neil, the parties, the fish and how, with him gone, it all seemed very empty and sad. “So, I’m coming back, you have anything for me?” Camille assured her that there would be plenty of projects for her to pick from. “OK,” Amelia said, “I’ll see you in two days.” Amelia drove to Marla’s office to give the keys back.
“That’s it,” Marla said, lighting a cigarette, “you have the place for two more months.”
“I can’t. I just... I need to get back to work.”
“Suit yourself, you know the rent is non-refundable, right?” Amelia said she was aware of that, wished Marla the best and headed home.
***
“Looking forward to seeing you, dear,” Camille said, “get settled, and we can have lunch.”
“I’m settled,” Amelia said as she walked through Camille’s office, “in fact, I have a surprise for you,” She opened Camille’s door and hung up the phone, “Tah-dah,” she said and stood, arms wide open, smiling at Camille. Camille’s face was shocked and worried.
“I’m back,” Amelia said and then, she noticed there was someone in the office already. “Oh, shit,” Amelia said, “I’m sorry, Cami, I didn’t know you were...” she didn’t finish her sentence. Neil stood up and looked at her.
“Hey,” Neil said, giving a small embarrassed wave.
“Neil,” Amelia said, surprised, excited and then, “wait, what the hell are you doing in my agent’s office?” He shrugged, and she looked at Camille.
“Honey,” Camille said coming around her desk in a rush, “let me explain...” Amelia didn’t wait for an explanation. She turned and stormed out of the office. “Amelia,” Camille shouted, “honey, I’m sorry, let me explain.” The doors to the elevator closed, and Amelia shut her eyes.
***
“I still have two months, right,” Amelia said to Marla, who handed over the keys to the cottage. She drove back to the cottage, stopping at the bait and tackle shop in the town on the way. She bought rod and reel, a stand and a bucket of bait. Got a quick lesson in baiting a hook, the man in the shop telling her he was a huge fan and named a movie that he loved that she had never been in. She left the shop, headed to the cottage and settled in. The next morning, as the sun was rising, she stood on the beach and cast her line as far as she could out into the surf. She set the rod in its stand, picked up her coffee cup and watched the waves.
“I’m sorry,” Neil said and she turned to see him there, in his shorts, hands in pockets, standing behind her on the sand. “She paid me a lot of money to do it.” He explained that Camille was worried about her being away from the business for so long, so she set the whole thing up.
“So, it was all a game,” Amelia said to him and he admitted it was. “Did you really not know who I was?”
“No, I knew. It was one of the reasons I agreed to do it. I really admire your work.”
“Thanks, I hope you liked the fucking too.” He was silent for a long time. Her line bent, and she pulled a blue out of the water and tossed it into a tub. “So, how much of it was lie?” He told her the part about him being a stock broker was. The rest of it was true. He was actually an actor, trying to be, and he did make money fishing. The people who came to the parties were friends, and Camille had paid for everything else.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“For lying to me?”
“For doing any of it. I just assumed because you’re famous that it wouldn’t matter, that you’d be used to it, that you’d be fine with it.”
“Fine with what, Neil, if that is your name, fine with having my heart broken?” He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and looked down at the sand. He was quiet for a long time. She couldn’t look at him.
“Peter,” he said after a while. “My name is really Peter.” She thought about it for a moment.
“Well, hello, Peter, nice to meet you now...” she made a gesture for him to leave and he turned to go, but stopped and looked back at her. She sensed him there, and she turned as well.
“You know, the truth is, I’m not a very good actor,” he said and she listened, “so, everything I said, everything that happened between us, there’s no way I could have... acted any of that.” He waited for her to respond, but she said nothing. He waited longer, and she turned to look at her line. He turned slowly and started to walk away up the beach.
�
��I just wanted a vacation,” she said and he stopped, “I just needed time away. Time to be me, time to not be famous. To just be a regular girl.” He nodded.
“I’m sorry I ruined that.”
“Maybe you didn’t,” she said and looked at him, “maybe you showed me that, it actually could be possible.” She looked at him and then, she dropped her coffee mug into the sand. She burst out laughing, and he stared at her. “Sorry, I hate that line,” she said.
“Cut,” the director yelled, “reset back to one, we’ll go again in a minute.” Amelia stepped away from the rod, and two makeup girls pounced on her, Carla, her agent, stepped to her. The director and the writer came in for a conference.
“Sorry, Michael,” she said to the writer, “it just doesn’t make sense to me that she’d say that after all the shit he put her through.” They agreed. They decided to think about it over lunch.
“OK,” the first assistant director said, “that’s lunch, we’ll pick it up here after lunch.” The crew broke up, covered the cameras and headed for lunch.
“Maybe I do need a vacation,” Amelia said to Carla.
“Well,” Carla said, putting her arm around her shoulders, “let’s put this one in the can and then... We can talk about it.”
***
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