Another Saturday Night and I Ain't Got No Body (A Page Turners Novel)

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Another Saturday Night and I Ain't Got No Body (A Page Turners Novel) Page 19

by Marts, Jennie


  Sunny made one last mirror check and dabbed on a little more pink lip gloss. The color was ‘A Day in the Park’, so she thought it a fitting shade. She squirted a blast of body spray into the air, walked through it, and declared herself ready to go. Feeling pretty good about herself as she walked out the door, Sunny grabbed her big straw hat, plopped it on her head, then pulled the door shut behind her.

  * * *

  “Hi. You must be Sunny. I’m Phil.” Sunny had found the one guy in the park with a picnic basket, and he now enthusiastically reached for her hand and pulled off his sunglasses at the same time.

  She reached her hand out to shake his. “That would be me. Nice to meet you, Phil.” His hand was warm, and he had a great smile that went all the way to his chocolate brown eyes.

  They both paused as they took a moment to appraise the other one. Phil was probably five-nine and fit. His skin had that healthy tan of someone who spent a lot of time outdoors. His hair was light brown with natural streaks of blond highlights shot through it– which he probably got from the sun instead of paying eighty dollars for them at the salon. He looked comfortable in khaki shorts, Teva sandals, and a t-shirt depicting several fishing flies and a caption that read The way to a man’s heart is through his fly. Nice.

  Sunny watched his appraisal of her as his gaze roamed over her body, starting at her petal pink toenails and moving all the way up to the floppy straw hat perched on her head. Suddenly, she was rethinking the floppy straw hat idea.

  “You look nice.” His tone sounded a little confused. “You know it’s a picnic, right?” He gestured to the blankets on the ground. He had layered a quilt and a bright green sleeping bag on top of each other. The sleeping bag was unzipped and lay flat. It had green flannel on one side and thick piling inside. On one side of the sleeping bag was a picture of a giant package of gum and the words ‘Wrigley’s Spearmint Gum’ written along the side of the package. Sunny figured he’d had it since he was a kid.

  To the side of the sleeping bag sat a well-used yellow fabric cooler, the shoulder strap lying limp across its side. One corner of the cooler was covered in dried mud as if it had sat on the edge of a river bank, and Sunny thought she caught a whiff of dead fish coming from it. She wasn’t sure how she was going to eat anything that came out of that cooler.

  “Oh, I’m fine.” Sunny flounced herself and her straw hat over to plop down on one side of the blankets. She folded her knees under her and spread the skirt out, going for a feminine southern belle look. She smiled up at him. “Fun sleeping bag.”

  That comment got a grin out of him, and he laughed. “I thought I had a different blanket in the car.” He gestured to the green Subaru Outback parked nearby. “But these were all I had. I love this bag. I’ve had it since the fifth grade.”

  Told you so.

  “So, what are we having for lunch?” Sunny asked, eyeing the yellow cooler.

  He looked confused as he followed her gaze to the cooler, and then laughed. “That’s not our lunch. That’s my fishing gear.”

  Sunny laughed as well, doing an inward sigh of relief– until she realized he said fishing gear. She looked around then, and to her horror, saw he was walking to a canoe that rested on the shore of the lake. A life vest and, oh, please no, two fishing poles rested against the side of the canoe. Two poles meant that unless someone else was joining them, he expected her to know how to use one of them.

  “I thought it would be fun to try to catch our lunch.” He grinned like that would be the most fun idea he had ever had.

  “Oh,” Sunny faltered and looked down at her pink-flowered sundress and kitten-heeled sandals.

  “But we don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” he said, his face crestfallen. “I probably should have been more specific about what to wear. Not that you don’t look great.”

  Sunny sighed. He had obviously put some thought in to this date, and he had gone to the trouble of actually bringing a canoe with him. Sunny tried to picture a romantic setting with the canoe gliding through the water, Phil in one end with his muscled arms pulling the oars forward, and she sitting daintily in the other end twirling a lacy parasol to keep the sun off her fair skin. Okay, so she didn’t have a lacy parasol or even fair skin, for that matter. But she had committed to this date, and she hadn’t actually ever been in a canoe before, and the dress was machine-washable, so what the heck?

  “No, I’ll be fine.” Sunny put a smile on her face and stood up. “This looks really fun.”

  Phil’s smile returned, and he loaded the canoe with the life vest, the fishing cooler, (thank goodness that wasn’t our lunch), and both of the fishing poles. At the thought of lunch, Sunny’s stomach rumbled a little, and she realized she was quite hungry. She had had an early breakfast of cereal and meant to grab a mid-morning snack, but in her nervousness over the blind date, she hadn’t really felt like eating, until now.

  “You ready?” he asked and held out his hand to help her into the boat.

  Sunny walked gingerly across the grass to him, her heels sinking into the soft soil. She took his hand and stepped over the side. Her shoe hit a slick patch of mud, and suddenly her foot slipped forward and one arm pin-wheeled as she tried to gain her balance.

  “Whoa.” Phil grasped his hand tighter and wrapped his other arm around her waist. His quick move saved Sunny from busting her tail bone on the edge of the canoe, but it effectively landed his hand in her armpit while his arm crushed her breast.

  “You all right?” He pulled her back upright while doing more boob-crushing with his arm.

  “Yes, thanks,” Sunny said, regaining her balance and pulling her leg back out of the boat. Her foot came out but the cute pink sandal stayed stuck in the mud on the bottom of the canoe. Sunny might be up for these dating ideas, but she wasn’t sure any more of her shoes could handle them.

  Phil made sure she was steady before he reached into the boat and plucked Sunny’s shoe from the muddy spot. He wiped the shoe on his shorts then held it up for my inspection. “This might not be the best shoe choice for boating. You need some real sandals, not these…what do you call these anyway?”

  “They’re called mules because you slide your foot into them and they have no back.” Sunny straightened her skirt and pulled her left foot free from the other shoe.

  “I would think they’re called ‘mules’ because you’d have to be an ‘ass’ to pay full price for half a shoe,” he said, cracking himself up.

  Sunny just stared at him.

  “C’mon, that was hilarious,” he said. “I just made that up right there.” He reached for her other shoe and tossed them both back onto the green sleeping bag, still chuckling at his own joke. “Will you be okay barefoot in the boat?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be fine.” Sunny reached for his hand and again stepped into the boat. This time, her bare foot touched the cool bottom of the boat, and the muddy silt squished up between her toes. She kept her balance climbing in and plunked down on the bench seat.

  “Here, you should put this on.” He handed her the life vest. “All passengers are required to wear one.”

  “Where’s yours?” Sunny slipped the vest over her head and clicked the belt shut, successfully squashing the last idiom of a romantic boat ride.

  “I’m a great swimmer.” He pushed the canoe away from the bank before he deftly climbed in. Sunny grabbed the sides as the canoe pitched and rocked, but Phil sat down and with experienced ease, paddled toward the middle of the lake.

  * * *

  “Oh, look how pretty she looks,” Cassie said.

  “She looks great, but why is she wearing that stupid gardening hat?” Maggie asked.

  The two women were firmly ensconced behind a large stand of lilac bushes. Between the branches, they had a great view of the picnic site and were fairly well hidden. They had arrived in time to see Sunny pull up and cross the grass to meet Phil.

  “He’s not so bad,” Cassie said. “I like his smile, and he seems pretty relaxed. He said he was
laid back.”

  “Oh, my gosh.” Maggie laughed. “He wants to take her in that canoe. She’s going to have a fit.”

  They watched as Phil reached for Sunny’s hand, and her crazy slide into the canoe.

  “Oh, no! She almost fell,” Cassie cried.

  “Oh, crap! Wait. He caught her. Good job. Score one for Phil,” Maggie said, as she watched Sunny try to regain her balance. “Ahhh. Take off two points. He totally copped a boob- feel.”

  “What? He did not. He was helping her.”

  “He was helping himself…to a handful of Sunny’s goods.”

  “No, Sunny, don’t put on that hideous life vest.” Cassie groaned as she watched Sunny pull the vest over her head.

  “Oh, man, she looks like an orange Stay-Puff marshmallow man,” Maggie said. “We should have brought a camera instead of this stupid Frisbee.”

  * * *

  “Isn’t this great?” Phil asked. “Sunshine, a cool breeze, a pretty girl…” He winked at Sunny. “And goin’ fishin’. What could make a day better?”

  Some food. I’m starving.

  Phil pulled the cooler to him, unzipped the top and pulled out a round Styrofoam container.

  Oh, thank goodness, he brought some takeout. But he pulled the lid back, and to her horror, the container was full of dark soil and wriggling earthworms. She thought she might gag. Maybe I wasn’t as hungry as I thought.

  “Prime night crawlers.” Phil pulled a worm from the soil. The worm tried fervently to inch back into the dirt. Phil pulled the worm’s body harder only to have it break in half. The first half disappeared into the dark soil, and the other half continued to wiggle, pinched between Phil’s thumb and forefinger.

  Sunny looked at the half of a worm in disgust. “I thought you used flies.”

  “Flies are for stream or river fishing,” he explained. “Worms are for pond fishin’.”

  She watched as he settled the pole between his knees, pulled the line free, and threaded the worm onto the hook.

  Blood, dirt, and shiny worm-skin goo mingled on the tips of Phil’s fingers. Please don’t make me touch that.

  He skillfully tossed the hook into the water and passed her the fishing pole.

  “Now, I put a bobber on yours,” he explained and pointed to the little floating red and white ball that bounced along the top of the water. “You watch that bobber. When it goes under the water, you’ve got a fish.” He reached down to claim his pole as Sunny watched the little red ball bob under the water.

  “It just went under,” she said.

  “What?” Phil’s head popped up. “Are you sure?”

  He watched as the bobber disappeared under the water, and the line of her pole started to unreel.

  “Set the line!” he cried. “Reel it in!”

  She stared at him blankly as she didn’t know what either of those instructions meant.

  “Start winding that little black crank thing.” He pointed to the reel in her hands. “Wind it around toward you.”

  Okay. She understood ‘little black crank thing’, and she grasped the little handle and cranked it around. The more she cranked, the harder it became as the line grew taut, and the fish pulled away from her. The pole bent forward with the strain of the fish’s weight.

  “Keep cranking!” he hollered. “You’ve got a big one!” He stood up in the canoe and reached for the pole. The boat tipped and wobbled, but he planted his feet on either side of the boat and steadied the small craft.

  Sunny was happy to pass him the pole and she gripped the sides of the canoe. He rocked forward and back, teasing the line, as he tried to reel in the huge fish.

  Suddenly, he pulled back, whipped the pole around, and an enormous fish flew out of the water, sailed across the boat and landed…smack dab in the middle of Sunny’s lap!

  “Aaahh!” she shrieked and jumped up, trying to get away from the giant flopping flounder. In her haste to get away from Flipper, she must have teetered when she should have tottered, because without warning, the canoe rolled sideways and tipped her, Phil, and the massive mackerel right into the lake.

  Sunny went under, but the life vest popped her back to the surface where she splashed and sputtered. Through her splashing, she saw Phil swim to the canoe and work to get it right side up again. He hauled himself into the boat and dog-paddled the canoe toward her, then she felt his strong hands grasp the front of the vest and haul her back into the righted boat.

  “You okay?” asked a worried Phil as lake water dripped from his clothes and puddled into the bottom of the canoe.

  Sunny pushed her dripping bangs out of her eyes and nodded. She took a deep breath and clutched her arms around the fat sodden life vest. She peered over the side of the canoe where Phil’s fishing cooler, pole, and her romantic floppy straw hat floated side by side in the water. Phil had already collected his pole and the oars, and he used one now to lift his fishing cooler and pull it back into the boat. He paddled closer and reached for the fishing pole, which suddenly jerked out from under his hand and started to glide across the water.

  “Son of a gun!” Phil grabbed an oar and pulled it through the water. “That sucker’s still on the line.” He paddled by Sunny’s hat, reached down, grabbed it and tossed it into the canoe without missing a beat, as he chased after the fishing pole that now zig-zagged across the water.

  * * *

  “Oh. My. Gosh. He handed her a fishing pole,” Cassie said from their lilac bush hideout.

  “Does she even know what to do with it? Has she ever been fishing before?” Maggie asked.

  They had set up their soccer chairs behind the lilac bush for a full scale stakeout. Cassie had brought them each a cold can of iced tea that they sipped as they watched Sunny’s date unfold.

  “Aaaaa! I think she has a fish.” Maggie stood up from her chair to get a closer look.

  “She does. She’s reeling it in,” Cassie said. “No, Phil the Fisherman took the pole from her. He must not trust her to pull it in. Geez, he’s really working that line, it must be a big fish. Wow, there it is.” She watched the fish fly through the air, then gasped as it landed in Sunny’s lap.

  Cassie leapt from her chair, knocking over her can of tea as they watched the boat capsize, then Sunny’s head pop back up over the water. “Oh, no! Where is she? Wait, there she is, she’s okay.”

  She gripped Maggie’s arm as they watched Phil pull Sunny back into the boat.

  “Poor girl.” Cassie felt Maggie’s arm tremble in her hand. “She’s okay, Mags,” she said and turned to her friend to console her worry. But Maggie wasn’t trembling from concern. Instead her arm shook from glee as Maggie doubled over in hysterical laughter.

  “Why are you laughing?” Cassie asked in a shocked voice. “She could have been hurt.”

  “Did you see that fish…landed in her lap…she fell out of the boat.” Maggie gasped between gales of laughter. She crossed her legs and bent double to keep from peeing herself. “Look at her hair.”

  * * *

  “Yeehaw,” Phil cried, as if he were a cowboy chasing a steer instead of a guy, in a cleverly worded t-shirt, chasing down a fish still hooked to a pole his blind date had dropped in a lake. With Phil paddling his little heart out, they chased the fishing pole to the middle of the lake where it came to rest. It had stopped several times, and Phil almost had a hand on it, but each time the fish took off again. They watched the pole criss-cross the water as if the fish knew they chased it. The pole sat immobile for several minutes as Phil paddled to it. He carefully reached into the water so as not to startle it and grabbed the pole.

  “Got it!” He lifted the pole in triumph. He grabbed for the little crank handle thing and again tried to reel the fish in. The line was tangled and knotted as it came out of the water, and Sunny cringed backwards as she tried to brace herself for another lapful of mackerel.

  Phil strained against the line and braced his knee against the side of the boat. “C’mon, you dirty bastard,” he coaxed. Sudden
ly, the line snapped, and Phil fell backwards into the boat. He looked a little stunned as he landed in the bottom of the canoe, then he looked up at Sunny and burst into laughter.

  “That was awe-some!” He pushed up from the bottom of the canoe and settled back onto the bench seat.

  “I think I’m ab-bout done f-fishing.” Sunny’s teeth chattered from the cold, wet clothes she wore. The sun was warm, but not enough to dry her out under the wet life vest.

  “Oh, sorry.” He picked up the oar and paddled them back to shore. “I’m about ready to eat lunch anyway.”

  Her mouth watered at the thought of lunch, and Sunny hoped for thick sandwiches, some crunchy salty chips and a soda or even iced tea.

  The boat slid up to the bank with a thud as it hit the shallow bottom, and Phil jumped out to pull the canoe further up the bank.

  He took her hand and helped Sunny over the side of the boat. The bank side was rough against her feet which were pruny from sitting in the watery boat bottom.

  She made it to the blanket, and Phil helped her off with the life vest. He pulled it over her head, looked down, and looked away as a blush crept up his neck.

  Sunny looked down and gasped, then quickly plopped down on the blankets and wrapped the green sleeping bag around her body. Evidently getting her white sundress, white bra and white panties wet left little to Phil’s imagination as to what her body looked like. The cold, wet fabric had her headlights standing erect, and she resisted the urge to rub her chest to get them to go back down.

  Phil busied himself with going to the car and retrieving a picnic basket.

  At least he has the good sense to give me a minute of privacy to pull myself together. And he did blush and look away. Although, she was sure he got quite an eyeful first.

  He came back to the blanket, but continued to look off into the park, apparently not quite ready to look directly at her.

  “Those gals sure are having fun playing Frisbee.” Phil nodded to two women playing nearby.

 

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