Fisher of Men

by Phoebe Alexander

  “I was out on the boat with him, just the two of us. He'd been out on a charter earlier in the day and had spotted some large stripers down by the jetty. He wanted to go back and see if we could get one of the bigger ones. He seemed a little off to me that evening. Just so damn determined, like he couldn't rest until he got this catch. He had always been stubborn and strong-willed, not the type to tell you how he was feeling.

  “There was a fiery sunset on the bay that night; I'll never forget it, the image of him silhouetted against that crimson canvas...” He took a sip of the beer he'd grabbed from the fridge when he'd first gotten home and swallowed it down with the tears that were threatening to break free.

  “He had one on the line and boy it was a fighter...he was really struggling to get him reeled in. I was just about to grab the rod and take over when he clutched his chest and fell onto the deck. He was moaning and writhing in pain. I'd seen this guy take blows and get thrashed by shark fins and hardly flinch. I knew he had to be hurting real bad to carry on like that.”

  Leah now had her hand on his thigh, wishing there was a way to take away the pain that still seemed so real and fresh. Maybe she could dull it, flatten it out, roll it into a tiny manageable ball and hand it back. He could stick it in his pocket and his heart would feel lighter. She was pretty sure she knew how his story would end, but it seemed like he needed to tell it, to get it out.

  “I panicked, Leah, I should have given him CPR, but I didn't know what to do. I was 18 years old, getting ready to start college in the fall, and I should have known better. But all I kept thinking was I had to get him back to shore. No cell phones back then, so I couldn't call and even if we'd had 'em, I doubt we'd had reception way out there on the water.

  “I whipped the boat around and fired up the motor trying to haul ass back to the dock. My plan was to get him into my truck and rush him over to Salisbury to the hospital. I figured it would be faster than waiting for an ambulance by the time I was able to find a phone.” He tried to choke back the tears that had formed, but lost one down his cheek. She felt his body heave as three more tears chased the first one down. “I couldn't make it in time.”

  He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. “I didn't think I could ever forgive myself. My mom...God bless that woman, she kept trying to tell me it was okay, God had just called him home. It was his time to go; his number was up. But I never believed her. I kept telling myself that it was my fault, it was my responsibility to save him and I couldn't.

  “And then my daughter was born a year later. I looked into her sweet little face and there was something there, something that reminded me of him, like his spirit was looking out at me through her big blue eyes. I knew I had a chance for redemption. I vowed right then and there to be the best damn father in the whole world. I wasn't ever going to let anything happen to that precious baby girl.”

  Leah was speechless. She had never expected to see that Cap had such a vulnerable side; she never imagined he'd feel close enough to her that he could share such a deep and personal story with her. She wanted to throw her arms around him but settled for resting her head against his shoulder and whispering, “You have some lucky daughters, Cap. They're really blessed to have you for a father.”

  Cap's story affected Leah so much that it made her heart ping with sadness. Her parents had never seemed like protectors, only fortresses keeping her from discovering who she was and what she wanted out of life. They did it out of moral obligation, not out of love or for redemption like Cap had for his daughters.

  It was what they were supposed to do, not what their hearts told them they must do. And maybe that is why I've never wanted kids, she realized, the epiphany creeping up on her, enveloping her in its shadow. Maybe I've just been waiting for my heart to tell me it's what I must do.

  Leah lurched awake, alarmed to find herself ensconced in unfamiliar plaid flannel sheets. Then she remembered how it had gotten late and snowy and Cap had pretty much demanded that she spend the night. They didn't make love, but they curled together under the covers until they both drifted off, their dogs slumbering away at the foot of the bed. She grabbed her phone off the nightstand to check the time and was relieved to learn it was only 5 AM. She wasn't going to be late for work.

  I should probably get back home and prepare myself for returning to a stack of invoices and complaints and a slew of emails, she lectured herself, her brain immediately charging into the role of Responsible Adult. She cringed when she considered how many voice mails had likely been left on her office phone in the past three days. “Voice mails are the worst,” she groaned under her breath.

  Cap sat straight up in the bed before she could fully contemplate her exit strategy. “Where are you going?” he asked, his voice a little hoarse.

  “Just thinking I should take Glory home and get ready for work,” she explained. “I didn't mean to wake you up.”

  He grunted and grabbed her arm, pulling her back down onto the mattress. “Don't go.” It did not sound like a suggestion. He turned onto his side and slid his body so it was adjacent to hers and then one of his arms slid around her waist and one of his legs over her thighs, effectively locking her in his embrace. “I'm holding you hostage,” he announced.

  “If you're expecting a ransom, don't hold your breath. My parents don't make much on a minister and teacher's salary,” she laughed. “And although my boss loves me, he'd probably rather replace me than put up his own money in exchange for my safe return.”

  “Bummer,” he teased her. “No matter, you're worth more than they could pay anyway.” He flung himself over onto his back and effortlessly pulled her on top of him in one swift motion, surprising Leah with his agility and brute strength. He pushed her head down so that her lips pressed against his.

  “I haven't brushed my teeth yet,” she protested, trying to pull away.

  “Does it look like I give a fuck?” he fired back, running his tongue over her dry lips. “Oh, hey, leave Glory here today, why don'cha?”

  “What? Why would do I do that?” she questioned him, eyebrows raised.

  “Because she's gonna like being here a hell of a lot more than being cooped up in a crate all day!” he explained with a heavy dose of “duh.”

  “But then I—"

  “Have to come back here tonight to get her? Gee, hadn't thought of that!” Even in the darkness, she could see he had said it with a devious grin and wink.

  “Are you sure she's no problem?” Leah asked. “I don't want her to get confused about where her home is and all that...you know?”

  “I wouldn't worry about it too much. Besides, you'd be making Keeper pretty sad if you took his playmate away,” he tried a new angle, appealing to her pet-lover side.

  “Okay, yeah, I guess that will work. That way I'll not have to work quite as late because I won't have to let her out on my lunch break. I can skip lunch altogether. I'll still be kinda late though, is that alright?”

  “I've got nothing but time,” Cap assured her. She couldn't quite tell in the dark, but she was pretty sure his dimples were winking at her now.

  Roughly half of the messages on Leah's voicemail were from Casey Fontaine. Before checking in with Barry, Leah grabbed her office phone and dutifully punched in Casey's number. Even at eight in the morning, Casey's voice sparkled like diamonds. “Well, Leah Miller, I was just talking about you last night at dinner. Were your ears burning?” she exclaimed.

  Leah couldn't help but smile when she talked to the woman. “Is that so? All good things, I hope!”

  “Naturally, my dear! I have a niece who is planning to get married in Ocean City in the fall and she's looking at reception venues and accommodations for out-of-town guests, which is practically everyone but me. You better believe I gave her your number. So if an Olivia Darcy calls you, that's my niece. Just take 20% off whatever you quote her and my sister and send that bill to me, understood?”

  “Oh, of course, Casey, no problem at all,” Leah said, furiously sc
ribbling down a note that read Olivia Darcy – Casey Fontaine's niece – 20% to Casey.

  “Don't tell them about the twenty percent though. They'll think it's the cheapest rate in town and they won't be able to refuse. Just remember when the fam is all here for the wedding, mum's the word about the lifestyle stuff. They know I run a charity group but they think it's a bunch of old biddies playing cards one night a week, getting dolled up and dragging their old, decrepit husbands out for a stodgy cocktail party once a month!” She laughed at her red herring description of the group.

  “You have absolutely nothing to worry about,” Leah reassured her. “I would never disclose details from our clients' personal lives to anyone. Hotels are in the business of discretion, you know!”

  “You're such a doll,” Casey cooed. “Okay, now let's get down to the real reason for my call. I want to set up the Valentine's Party.”

  “No party for January, then?” Leah asked, failing to disguise her disappointment. The group's monthly events were certainly helping keep The Pearl in the black even during the off season. Barry had been blown away by their numbers for December, a notoriously slow time for the hospitality industry in Ocean City. January was usually their worst month though, and Leah was hoping to keep Barry's mood elevated with the promise of a lucrative event.

  “No, I decided to take January off. I'm having some minor surgery next week so this gives me plenty of time to recover before February's party. Last year in January we had a football-themed party which was a lot of fun but it's just not in the cards this year, unfortunately,” Casey explained.

  “I'm so sorry to hear that you have to undergo surgery,” Leah offered. “I hope everything goes smoothly.”

  “It's elective surgery, so don't worry, I'm in perfect health! Alright, so if you can pull out your calendar, we can look at Saturday nights in February!”

  By the end of the phone call, Leah had Casey's group confirmed for the second Saturday in February. The Pearl was going to be decked out in red from floor to ceiling, with the charity proceeds of the night going to the American Heart Association. Casey also disclosed that she had bought the perfect red velvet evening gown to wear along with an exquisite set of pearls that belonged to her grandmother. If nothing else, Leah was impressed by how attentive Casey was to details. She would be pretty damn good at my job, actually, Leah had to admit. She is as dedicated to making her group members as happy as I am.

  Before she had too much time to reflect on her conversation with the one and only Casey Fontaine, Barry waltzed into her office with the advertising budget for 2013. “They're screwing us, Leah. We need to re-shoot that one commercial we aired last summer and it's going to cost a freaking fortune. And get a load of what they're charging now to do our social media. It's a fucking racket I tell you.” He only cursed in front of Leah when he got really worked up.

  Leah finished entering the details into her spreadsheet for the Casey's Group Valentine's Party and looked up over her computer monitor at her severely agitated boss. “Well, why don't we save some money and do our own social media?” she calmly suggested.

  “We were doing that when you first came on board; don't you remember? It was a disaster! No one ever had any time for it. Our accounts all withered up and dried away. We were really starting to build a fan base on Twitter and Facebook and then they go and jack up all the prices. It's ridiculous!” She could see faint impressions of veins popping out of Barry's temples.

  “I know it didn't work before, but our staff is much more technologically inclined now, everyone is in this day and age. We didn't have smart phones and tablets back then. I say we buy a few iPads, form a Social Media Task Force and let them have at it. They can do Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, whatever you want really. That new hire for the front desk is really sharp. I bet she could help. And I know a few other people who would be great at it too!”

  “Leah, you are, hands down, the smartest person I know. So I can dump all this on you? You can get it all set up?” he asked, clearly ready to wash his hands of the whole thing.

  She nodded in conjunction with her most confident smile. “Of course! I really think having a team like this will help build rapport among the staff too. It's a win-win, really!”

  “God, Leah, I missed you when you were gone. I know it was only three days, but damn, we need you around here. You're never allowed to quit, got that?” Barry shook his finger at her in mock teacher fashion.

  Leah just laughed. She loved that Barry always made her feel appreciated. No wonder she didn't mind putting in long hours. Of course, she'd never had anyone special enough to trump her desire to work, either, no one she'd rather make happy than her boss, staff and guests. She remembered the way Cap had played at holding her hostage that morning, pressing her body tightly to his as if he never wanted to let her go. She wondered if he would be the one she'd rather make happy. She wondered if tough choices were ahead.

  Leah hated calling to check up on Aimee because she was afraid to wake up a sleeping baby. She decided she was safer texting first and then letting Aimee call her if it was a good time. Just moments after she sent the text at lunchtime, her phone was ringing with Aimee's picture glowing from the display. “How's it going?” Leah instinctively whispered into the phone.

  “You don't have to whisper, silly,” Aimee laughed at her. “Anthony is changing Natalie's diaper across the room and she's wide awake. She just had lunch. She'll be alert for a little while now, then she'll want to nurse and snooze again when she gets tired.”

  “Is she sleeping at night?” Leah questioned.

  “Not more than three hours or so at a time, but it's been okay. The worst is that she falls asleep eating and then she wants to wake up, take a sip, doze off, wake up, eat a little more. She'd just stay attached to me all day if I'd let her!” Aimee's complaint didn't sound too serious. “She's so damn cute though. I'm already in love with her, what can I say?”

  “Awww, of course you are,” Leah replied, but then she remembered the epiphany she'd had on Cap's loveseat the night before. “So...Cap asked me to spend New Year's Eve with him.”

  “Oh yeah? You'd hardly said anything about him when you were here. I was afraid you didn't actually like him after all,” Aimee observed.

  “I didn't want to distract you from your first few days of motherhood,” Leah explained. “But now that that's past, oh my gosh, I'm going to need a lot of help. I don't even know what to do!”

  “What do you mean? You go out, you have fun, you drink, you eat, you get laid. How fucking hard is that?” Aimee teased her. “Sounds pretty easy to me! Not to mention enviable as I probably won't get a night out for the next six months.”

  “The New Year's Eve thing that he wants to take me to is a house party.” There, she'd said it. She'd hardly been able to wrap her brain around it since he asked her. Now she'd actually gotten the words out of her mouth.

  “House party? So what?” Aimee asked. “I don't get what the big deal is about that.”

  “A swinger house party,” Leah returned her voice to a whisper. “I just don't know if I can go. I don't belong at a swinger party! It's all so crazy!”

  “What are you going to do for New Year's Eve if you don't go with him?” Aimee asked, always one to play devil's advocate.

  She's definitely in cahoots with that little imp on my shoulder, Leah mused. “Probably stay home with Glory and paint my toenails or something. Or work.”

  “Oh, God, Leah, that sounds lame. Take it from me, there is nothing more depressing than spending New Year's Eve alone. I did that once. I am still in therapy.”

  Leah was not surprised to hear such a colorful exaggeration from her melodramatic best friend. Motherhood had not mellowed her out. Yet. “But I don't know if I'm ready,” Leah whined.

  “Well, just because you go doesn't mean you have to get busy with anyone, right?” Aimee asked. “I mean, I don't really know how these things work. Are keys involved? They don't use keys anymore, do they?”
She bubbled up with giggles.

  Leah felt like she was poking fun at her. “Come on, be serious, Aimee, this is really hard for me! I like him but I don't know if I'm comfortable with all this swinging stuff. It's so nice when it's the two of us. I don't want to think about there being anyone else in the middle of us. I barely even know him one-on-one at this point!”

  Aimee sighed. “I know, I'm sorry, sweetie. Sometimes my imagination runs wild, you know. You really are in a situation, aren't you?” She had clearly taken charge of Natalie again because Leah could hear her bending down to coo in her daughter's face. Then she heard lip-smacking sounds like she was kissing the baby's soft round cheeks. “Oh my God, Leah, I could just eat her up!”

  “I guess I'll talk to Cap tonight when I go pick up Glory. I'll ask him what to expect and then I'll decide. I don't want to be alone for New Year's...I don't...but I don't want to do anything I'll regret either.” She hated having decisions hanging over her. She preferred to gather the information, analyze it and make a swift decision without a lot of hem-hawing around.

  “That sounds like a perfectly reasonable plan,” Aimee agreed, her attention coming back to Leah now. “But don't be afraid to make mistakes, Leah. We'd all lead really boring lives if we never took any risks. Sometimes the best things in life are a result of a risk. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Leah promised. “I'll keep that in mind,” even though making mistakes was one of the things she loathed most. Even more than being indecisive.

  TWELVE

  And he said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.”

  -Matthew 4:19 (ESV)

  Leah still felt a twinge of guilt for not agreeing to work on New Year's Eve. She was fairly certain she had worked the last five consecutive December thirty-firsts, and the bigger part of her convinced her conscience that she deserved a night off. She was sitting in church on a frosty Sunday morning waiting for the service to begin and trying to forget that the shroud of guilt she wore wasn't just for taking off work. She had skipped church the prior week, a Sunday which fell only a few days prior to Christmas. Then she lied to her mother about it.