Cubby
Megand I pedal across the water, floating down the middle of the long, narrow lake. The sun is sinking behind the mountains as dusk approaches after a gorgeous day. We’re both dressed for the fish fry, my friend in a gray button-up shirt and a loose black tie while I’m sporting pink suspenders over a printedThat’s Ms. Butch to You!T-shirt.
“How late do you think a fish fry goes?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” Meg leans back, peering into the trees with her birding binoculars. “Probably not late. Why? You got other plans?”
I click my tongue against the back of my teeth. “Don’t be so sure I won’t. Chase is going to be there.”
“Really?” she asks sarcastically. “I hadn’t heard.”
It’s true that my minor obsession hasn’t faded in the least. Flirting with Chase is just too fun, and he basically gave me the green light to go ahead with it, even though he also implied he’s heterosexual.
The way he smiles, though? Seeing a guy like him look bashful? I could swoon. No way I’m giving that up if he doesn’t mind.
And if there’s even a slim possibility that he’s interested in a casual hookup, I’m going to latch on to it.
“There could be someone there for you too,” I point out, and take a gulp from my water bottle. “Seems like queer women who are into nature would enjoy a fish fry, no?” My calves are starting to burn from all the pedaling. “Maybe we’ll both find a summer hookup.”
“I’m just looking for a Rose-breasted Grosbeak.”
I groan. “You’re always just looking for a Rose-breasted Grosbeak.”
Meg puts the binoculars down. “Don’t worry. I’ll play wing-woman if you need. Just remember the promise you made.”
With an annoyed sigh, I repeat the oath she made me take. “I will not fuck up my project at the last minute by falling in love with a straight man.”
“Hand on your heart,” she deadpans.
I straighten my back and place my hand over my heart. “I solemnly swear on the sanctity of our eternal friendship that I shall not fall in love with a straight man this summer.” I clear my throat. “Although I’ll be happy to accept a no-strings-attached hookup, were one to come my way.”
“That’s my Cubby.”
A minute later, we float up to the strip of docks and decks where the fish fry is held. The space is transformed by the crowd, which is much larger than I expected. There are boats pulled up all around, people mingling everywhere I look, and strings of decorative lights hung through the trees. Near the restaurant and bar, an outdoor fish fry is set up, and out on one dock, there’s a makeshift bar decorated with what looks like old strands of Christmas tinsel.
I run my hands through my hair, tastefully messing it up. “How do I look?”
“Like you’re ready to eat some fish.”
It doesn’t take long to drag the little boat up to shore and enter the crowd. There’s a cheesy old eighties song I don’t recognize on a cheap speaker, and everyone around us seems to be laughing and totally caught up in their conversations, although I’m pretty sure people are glancing our way too.
I link my arm with Meg’s. “Do you think we stand out? Chase said everyone here knows everyone here.”
Before Meg can answer, I catch Chase’s voice, which booms out from the crowd. “Coming through!” he yells. “Pardon me!”
Everyone parts as Chase and a few other lumberjack-looking men come down the hill toward the water, hauling a huge sculpture of some sort between them. I catch glimpses of the brightly colored thing, big enough to rise up over the crowd, and then it finally pops into full view.
“What the hell?” Meg mumbles.
I squeeze her arm. “Shut up. It’s beautiful. It’s iconic. It’s legendary!”
“It’s a moose driving a speedboat with beavers in the back.”
“And a waterskiing fish!” I yelp, right as another, smaller man waddles out after them, clutching the giant fish to his body.
Meg taps my hand to get me to loosen my grip on her bicep. “I think I remember something about this from when I was a kid, actually. There used to be some festival. I just assumed I made up the sculpture.”
A gray-haired woman in front of us turns around. She’s wearing a black T-shirt and a pair of denim shorts, and she gestures to us with a bottle of beer. “That’s Moosey!” she says happily. “Town mascot. Comes out every summer.”
