I grabbed a few ginger ales from the fridge and a handful of meclizine even though, to be honest, it was probably too late now. This team bonding activity was going downhill fast.
But when Robbie yelled, “Fish on! I need an angler out here!” you’ve never seen teenagers jump up so fast. “Come on, Drew!” Robbie said. “Let’s see what you got, buddy.”
I helped Drew into the harness, thinking we had a blue marlin on. All the boys were gathered in anticipation, and it’s amazing how, once the action begins, even the sickest of the seasick rally. After a thirty-second fight, we all erupted in laughter as Drew pulled in a three-pound mahimahi, tiny by anyone’s standards. “Nice peanut there, superstar!” Parker called from the bridge. “We were looking for a few hundred more pounds, but at leastI’llhave dinner!”
I put my arm around Drew. “Well, it might not have been what we were chasing, but everyone looks way less green.”
We threw the fish back, Parker turned on the music, I pulled out the breakfast burritos, and everyone started eating, drinking, and laughing. It was exactly what I wanted. Or, well, no. It wasn’t thefishI wanted. But it was the funny story I needed.
Until an hour later. This time, when the long rigger bait rippedout of the clip, and line started pouring off the reel, we knew right away that this was something huge. “Luke, you’re up!” Drew called.
He looked terrified, but, as all the boys starting yelling, “Lu-uke! Lu-uke! Lu-uke!” he made his way into the fighting chair. I clipped him and the reel into the harness as fast as I could as the line continued to peel off, and, I’ll be honest, I was a little worried about our skinniest freshman’s ability to reel in whatever was on the other end.
The fish dove down, and for the next thirty minutes, Luke fought for every single inch of line. “You need a sub, buddy?” I asked quietly, not wanting to embarrass him. “I can just act like I’m giving someone else a turn.”
He laughed, red-faced and out of breath. “Not a chance, Coach. This fish is mine.”
I slapped him on the back. “That’s my boy!” The rest of the team began to cheer as the fish finally started to come up to the surface and Parker began backing up the boat—way too aggressively, I might add. Water flooded the stern, and, what can I say? The boys loved it. Luke was reeling, the fish was jumping, there was water everywhere, and it was chaos of the very best kind.
Robbie put on his gloves—like I’d seen him do about a million times before—and, as he finally got his hands on the leader, the part of the line that makes it qualify as a caught fish, phones were out all around me as a five-hundred-pounder jumped up by the boat. Robbie was struggling to control the fish so he could release it.
The boys all jumped on Luke, rubbing his head, giving him high fives. Drew unhooked him, and Luke collapsed onto the wet teak as calls of “Freshman!” rang out all around him.
I looked out over the boat and said, “Thanks, bud,” as the fish swam away. It jumped back out of the water, and, yeah, I knew it was in my head, but I swear it winked at me. There was nothing, and I domean nothing, that could compare to the thrill of catching a really, really big fish. It was a classic moment of man versus nature. Everyone had won. But especially me. Because this team, right here, I could already tell, was bonded for life. Or at least a season. And that was good enough for me.
DAISYTwenty-Two
Mason texted me near the end of my shift:Can I show you around town tonight?
I would be lying if I said my heart didn’t thud. But I had to get ahold of myself. Was this a good idea? I was so new here and needed to learn more about this person. But I reasoned that he was an educator, a state employee. At the bare minimum, the man had had a background check.
Three hours later, when Mason knocked on my door, I realized that my memory hadn’t actually done him justice. In the waning sunlight, he was even more handsome. Tall and broad-shouldered, fit and strong. He had a solid, square jaw with just a little bit of stubble and wide green eyes that crinkled when he shot me that crooked smile that made my heart, as my grandmama would have said, pitter-patter.
When he noticed me looking around, he said, “Daisy, Daisy, Daisy. HasDatelinetaught you nothing? You don’t just get in the car with a strange man.”
I laughed, and he pointed in the direction of the sound. “Plus, this is a walking tour.”
A walk on this gorgeous day sounded so perfect. We chatted about school and work and Cape Carolina, and I said, “I always wanted to be a nurse. From the time I was a little girl.”
“And you were a little girl when, exactly?”
“Geez, Mason. Don’t you know a lady never tells?”
He smiled. “Well, I do. I do know that. But see, I’m turning over a new leaf here, trying to date age-appropriate women, so I’m just, you know, checking.”
I thought back to what Laura had said. Maybe this was growth. Maybe he was a serious contender, after all. I knew thirty-four was still young. But sometimes, in the dating scene, every minute over thirty could seem like some sort of strike on my record. “Well, how old do youthinkI am?”
He looked at me innocently. “Twenty-two?”
I laughed, and a grin spread across his face. “The correct answer is always twenty-two.”
I nodded. “It is. But if you must know, I am roughly twelve years older than that.”
He nodded and exhaled. “That’s good news.”
“Not for me. I’d love to be twenty-two again. And how old areyou?”
“Thirty-eight,” he said. He stopped walking and said, “But with the personality and physique of a twenty-six-year-old.”
