Page 103 of The Emma Special

“Did she say anything else?” James asked.

“Nope. To hear Katie talk, Emma is happy. Man to man, I think you could loosen the reins.” Daniel reeled in his line and grimaced at the empty hook. “You got a jig I can use?”

James toed his tackle box toward his friend. “Check and see. Might be something in that mess.”

A splash rippled the water three yards from his line. Of course the fish were dancing all around his lure. They’d been mocking him all morning. He’d grown up fishing here, and the bass should be choking on his hook right now. It didn’t make sense.

“What is this?” Daniel held up a piece of floral pink paper folded into the shape of a fish.

James plucked it out of his friend’s hand and turned it to look at one perfect side, then the other. His dirty fingers were a stark contrast to the crisp designs on the paper. “This is Emma.”

“Emma is pretty paper trash in your tackle box?” Daniel asked.

James tucked the small creature into the cargo pocket of his shorts. “She leaves things around for me to find. She did that in my office sometimes.” He frowned, thinking of something else that had been bothering him all morning. “But I found a spatula in the fridge this morning, and yesterday a half eaten slice of pizza was on the floor in the hallway.”

“Whyyy?” Daniel asked with an exaggerated drawl.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense.” He patted his pocket. “The paper fish is intentional, I’m sure. The pizza and spatula, probably not.”

“What did she say when you asked her about them?”

James shook his head. He hadn’t asked her. Those oddities weren’t a problem, even if they were confusing. He’d found her asleep on the couch this morning, but he hadn’t heard the TV playing last night. They’d said good night after staying up too late binge watching The Andy Griffith Show and gone off to their own rooms. Maybe she didn’t like her mattress? It would be just like Emma not to advocate for a good night’s sleep.

Daniel pointed toward the shade of a large willow leaning over the water. “Pull under there.” He cast his fresh line off the back of the boat. “Well, I wouldn’t fuss if I were you either, those enchiladas she served us last night were gooder’n grits.”

“Everything she cooks is amazing.” James rubbed his stomach. “I’ve gained almost ten pounds in a month. Mason offered to schedule me a couple extra sessions each week because I don’t know how to turn down Emma’s food.”

Daniel chuckled. “Watch it, son. Your trust fund is showing.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s a strange world that I get paid to move my body, you get paid to sit at a desk, then turn around and use that money to pay Mason to help you move your body.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice if we all slept in hammocks and fished for our food every day?” James liked his job. Loved working, in fact. But lately, spending endless hours with Emma was starting to sound more appealing than anything else. He’d been showing her for weeks how much he loved her. Was she ready to hear the words without running? Probably not.

He grimaced as her daily, “Good morning, Roomie” played in his mind. It was almost like she said it on purpose to remind him of his place.

“Maybe. I don’t mind those screen doors for shutting out mosquitos though.” Daniel rubbed a hand down his arm, drawing attention to red-puffed scratches.

Flipping open the lid of the cooler, James nodded toward Daniel’s arm. “What happened there? A mosquito didn’t do that.” James pulled out a bottle of sweet tea and took a large drink.

“Katie.”

James spit the tea out of the side of the boat and coughed.

Daniel eyed James still choking on his tea. “Katie heard something outside the other night, so I went over and investigated. Got into a fight with a raccoon.”

James wiped his mouth with the back of his arm. “Did you get rabies?”

“No.”

James took another drink and closed the bottle. “Do we need to lock you in the shed until we know for sure?”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “No.”

James cast a line toward a drop-off. “Have you been foaming at the mouth?”

“Stop it.”