Rose’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “That would explain why I got such a good deal. Although I’m shocked that Lublin Harbor would have trouble getting tourists. It’s so lovely here!”
I nod, understanding her confusion. “The town has historically been pretty isolated,” I explain. “We’ve tried to stay off the radar for a long time. But times are changing, and we need to adapt.”
A mischievous grin spreads across Rose’s face. “So, I’m a guinea pig then?”
I can’t help but laugh. “I suppose you are. But a very welcome one. And don’t worry – even if this is a trial run, I promise you’re in good hands.”
Rose’s smile softens. “I don’t doubt that for a second,” she says, and the warmth in her voice makes my heart lurch in my chest.
I guide the boat toward a good fishing spot, cut the engine, and let the ship drift gently on the swells. The sky is beginning to lighten, the stars fading as the first hints of dawn paint the horizon. Rose and I work together to set up our fishing rods, and soon, we’re sitting side by side, lines cast into the water.
As the first rays of sunlight peek over the horizon, I notice Rose stifling a yawn. “Hey, how about some breakfast?” I suggest, reaching for the cooler. “Can’t fish on an empty stomach.”
Rose’s eyes light up. “That sounds fantastic,” she admits. “All I had was a muffin.”
I open the small insulated food warmer, pulling out some breakfast burritos wrapped in foil, along with a few granola bars from my pack. “It’s nothing fancy, but it should hit the spot. Plus, you can eat them one-handed,” I say, nodding towards the rod she’s holding. Then, reaching back into my bag, I pull out a thermos.
The moment Rose sees it, she lets out a squeal of delight. “Please tell me that’s coffee,” she says, her eyes wide with hope.
I can’t help but laugh at her reaction. “It sure is,” I confirm, pouring the steaming liquid into two cups. “I had a feeling you might need a caffeine boost.”
Setting the rod between her knees, Rose cradles the cup in her hands, inhaling deeply. “Oh, Levi, you’re a lifesaver,” shesighs contentedly. “This might be the best-smelling coffee I’ve ever encountered.”
“It’s just coffee – nothing special,” I respond, the words coming out more woodenly than I intended. I wince internally at my awkward reply, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up my neck. Why couldn’t I just accept the compliment graciously? I glance at Rose, half-expecting to see annoyance or hurt on her face, but to my relief, she doesn’t seem to have noticed my stilted response. She’s still savoring the aroma of her coffee, a small smile playing on her lips.
As we sip our drinks and nibble on breakfast, the sun slowly rises, brightening the sky to a cloudless robin’s egg blue. We fish in companionable silence, the gentle lapping of waves against the hull and the occasional cry of a seagull the only sounds that break the peaceful quiet.
I catch a few modest-sized fish, but Rose’s line remains frustratingly still. I can see the determination in her eyes, though, and I admire her persistence.
“Don’t worry,” I reassure her. “Sometimes it just takes patience. The fish will come.”
As if on cue, Rose’s rod suddenly jerks violently.
“I’ve got something!” she exclaims, gripping the rod tightly.
I’m by her side instantly, helping her steady the rod as it nearly jerks from her grip. “Whoa, that’s a fighter!”
I quickly secure a fishing belt around her waist, trying to ignore how our proximity sends a jolt through me – her hair carries the scent of a floral shampoo, and her back brushes against my chest as I reach around her waist.
“This will give you more leverage,” I explain, stepping back to guide her through the fight. Rose, focused entirely on her catch, leans into the struggle with determination.
“You’ve got this, Rose!” I cheer as the rod bends with the fish’s strength. “Nice and steady… that’s it!”
After what feels like an eternity, we see a flash of silver beneath the waves. With one final powerful turn of the reel, Rose brings the fish to the surface – a beautiful Atlantic cod, easily the biggest catch of the day.
I scoop it up in the net as Rose throws her arms up triumphantly. Her joy-filled cheer echoes across the water. Her face glows with pride and exertion as I carefully unhook the fish.
“You did it!” I exclaim, grinning widely. “That’s a fantastic catch.”
“We did it,” she corrects me, still beaming. “I couldn’t have landed it without your help.”
As I place the cod in the cooler, I can’t help but feel a surge of affection for Rose. Her enthusiasm is infectious, and I find myself more relaxed and open than I’ve been in a long time.
The rest of the day passes in a blur of sunshine, laughter, and the occasional exciting tug on our lines. Rose is curious and talkative, asking me about my life in Lublin Harbor, my family, my past. Each time, I gently redirect the conversation back to her as best I can.
“Do you have any family around here?” Rose asks.
I take a long drink from my water bottle, buying myself time. It’s strange – I usually deflect questions like this, but something about her makes me want to answer honestly. “No, not anymore. Got some family that live far away, but…” I shake my head. “We’re not really in touch these days.”
