“It hasn’t let us down in twenty years.”
She looks up nervously at the branch the rope is secured to.
“Come on, Doc. I won’t let you drown.” The words leave my mouth before I can think about them.
Something shifts in her expression.
A tiny smile.
I spread my arms. “I’m right here.”
For a second, she just stares at me.
Then she shakes her head and laughs. “Fine.”
My attention drops. Which is a mistake.
The white bikini leaves very little to the imagination as she walks toward the rope.
I drag a hand down my face.
She gives it an experimental tug.
Then another. Testing it, as if she didn’t just see it hold my two hundred and ten pounds.
“You need a running start,” I say.
She lets go of the rope and walks back toward the tree line.
“Kick off hard,” I yell.
“Yes, Coach.”
“Actually, I prefer boss.”
She snorts.
I point toward the shoreline. “Back up farther.”
She backs up several paces. Takes a breath. Then starts running.
The second she jumps, every teasing thought vanishes.
She sails through the air, screaming, and reaches out. The rope catches, and her stiff body swings out over the river.
Blonde braids flying. Legs kicking. Eyes wide.
“Let go, Jovie,” I shout.
“What?”
I watch as she swings back over the bank and then circles back.
“Let go!”
She squeezes her eyes shut and releases the rope.
Her arms pinwheel. Her legs flail.
