“I was just thinking the same thing,” I add.
“Yeah, well, it’s because this pain in the ass thinks he needs to do everything for me,” he gripes.
I chuckle before sobering when Miles still doesn’t turn around.
“It must be nice having him home again though,” I say.
“He’s around a little too much if you ask me. Keep him a little busier, would you?”
“As a matter of fact, I plan to,” I say with little thought as to bringing this up in front of his dad. “He’ll be out of your hair all of Friday evening, so you just tinker away to your heart’s content while he’s gone.”
Shep sighs, then shoots me a contented smile. “I thought this day would never come.”
“I missed you too, Dad,” Miles deadpans.
“Oh, you know I love ya. I just don’t need a second mother. I’ve already had one of those, and she’d watch over my shoulder while I washed my underwear. You’re one step away from doing the same damn thing.”
“I hear you loud and clear,” he grumps.
“You seem way better at this than me.” I point to the fishing pole that Shep has propped between his legs. He fiddles withthe reel, and then he walks over to fish something out from his gigantic Mary Poppins tackle box.
“Aw hell, I’ve got a few years on ya,” he says, thumbing through the top layer before extending it up on its hinges to get to the next one.
Now is not the time to get into a karaoke night apology I see, so I start backing up a few steps toward the cabin.
I call out a final “See you on Friday, Miles. Four o’clock. My patio,” to the back of his head, then leave the two of them to do what they do best. Fish in solitude.
On Friday afternoon, I wait for Miles an impatient fifteen minutes past the time I told him to meet me before I give up and march over to his trailer. Long, driven strides lead me to a latched screen door with the sound of a baseball game playing from a fuzzy screen inside. Three firm raps alert my arrival before I shout through the opening, “Miles, are you in there?”
The creak of a wooden bench echoes through the space and two shuffling feet brings a smiling Shepard to the door to greet me.
“Well, hey there! Doesn’t sound like you came by to see me.”
“Hey, Shep. Is Miles here?” I bob my head around to snoop behind him. I make out a pair of size thirteen tennis shoes. They’re dusty like the Bloomington trail where we’ve met several mornings now, except for the last ten since he started avoiding me. I crane my neck and peer around Shep to try to get a good look at his son. He chuckles and leans against the door frame.
“Hang on, let me get him,” he says, amused with himself as he pushes open the screen door to let me in. “Miles, your girlfriend is here.”
“I’m not his…” I start to say as I take one step up, but then I get a clear view of Miles and my thought dies away. He’s stretched out on a barely full-sized bed (hence the shoes hangingover the end), and he’s scrolling on his phone acting like I’m not three feet away from him.
“Tell her I’m busy,” Miles says, avoiding looking up.
“Miles, we had plans tonight. Or did you forget?”
“Nope, didn’t forget. Just didn’t agree to it, and I’m not going,” he mumbles, continuing his perusal with his finger.
“Quit your moping, boy, and talk to this pretty girl who is waiting for you,” his dad buts in.
I came to offer him an apology, but I don’t want to stick around and waste my time if he won’t even look at me.
“I’ll wait by your truck for the next five minutes,” I threaten, “and then I’m going without you.”
That gets his attention. He catches my eyes when he glances past the edge of his phone, but I don’t wait to see if he’ll say anything. I turn right around and march back down the steps, calling over my shoulder, “Have a good night, Shep.”
“I like her,” I hear him say just before I’m out of earshot.
I shove my hands into the front pockets of the terry cloth swim coverup I’m wearing and stare out at the lake. The sudden glide of majestic white wings catches my eye as a pelican floats through the air out past the dock and dives toward the water’s surface. Its domed beak hangs open as it scoops a mouthful of something and lifts back into the air. I’m caught up in imagining what its meal looks like when I hear Miles open the driver’s-side door. He’s looking at me through the window like he’s the one who’s been waiting for me, and says, “You coming?”
I huff and jerk on the handle, climbing into the passenger seat while fighting the urge to roll my eyes. Miles pulls the car in a U-turn and climbs the driveway to the main road. I reach over and fasten my seat belt as he puts the car in park at the top of the driveway.
