Summer Breeze

by Catherine Palmer

  Not that she particularly liked it, she told herself as Pete went back to his minnow. Facial hair held no appeal to Patsy. It hid a man’s best features—his mouth and jawline—not to mention the crumbs and other junk that could get caught in it.

  But that kiss …

  It had caught her off guard and sent a shiver down her spine. Patsy absently stuck her hand in Pete’s minnow bucket and came up with one of the small, wriggling silver bait fish. Did her reaction to a kiss on the cheek mean Patsy’s well-barricaded heart was softening to the man?

  She poked her hook through the minnow and cast the fishing line out across the open water that surrounded the dock. The afternoon sun glinted off the blue-gray surface, casting spangles of light on the dock’s corrugated tin roof. On this weekend, one of the busiest of the year, Lake of the Ozarks bustled with traffic. Runabouts pulled inner tubes, skiers, and wakeboarders. Pontoon boats drifted along, loaded down with families who were barbecuing or fishing. Jet Skis zoomed by, ripping up the water and making conversation difficult.

  Despite the hectic activity on the lake, its surroundings remained peaceful. Thick forests of maple, oak, dogwood, redbud, and hickory trees draped with ivy and carpeted with layers of fallen leaves and mushrooms reached down to the water’s edge. Red and yellow limestone bluffs formed caves for bats and sanctuaries for all kinds of wildlife. Overhead, in a blue sky dotted with puffs of white clouds, ravens circled, gulls searched for fish, and flocks of geese winged toward secret nests.

  Patsy would have enjoyed the scenery if not for that kiss Pete had given her. Boy, oh boy. She could not afford to let her comfortable, well-ordered life get thrown off-kilter by a man. Especially not Pete Roberts. Everything he had told her about his past made her uncomfortable—two divorces, enough DWIs to send him to jail, a stint in a rehabilitation center, and a job that barely let him make ends meet. He had been known to chew tobacco and spit wherever it was convenient, including the flower box outside Patsy’s salon. He was pudgy, hairy, and annoying. Other than that, she didn’t mind him too much.

  “Nice day for fishing,” Pete drawled as he turned the crank on his reel. “What did you think of the sermon this morning?”

  “I liked it.” Truth be told, Patsy had already forgotten the topic of the message, but she admired Pastor Andrew and knew he had probably preached on something she agreed with.

  “Fishing for men,” Pete said. “Craziest thing I ever heard. Anyone who knows fishing knows that when you pull a fish out of water, it’s gonna die. No ifs, ands, or buts. That fish is doomed. So why on earth would Jesus tell the disciples to go fishing for men? Pastor Andrew talked on and on about it, saying we were supposed to be like that and go fishing for men too. I wanted to stand up and ask him if he was missin’ a few shingles from his roof.”

  “It was a story, Pete. Jesus didn’t mean it to be taken exactly the way it sounds.” Patsy reeled in the last of her line, noticed that her minnow was gone, and reached for another. “It was a whatchamacall-it … a metaphor or an allegory or something like that.”

  “A parable?”

  “Well, I don’t know what it’s called, but Jesus was saying that He wants us to go find other people and tell them about Him.”

  “Yeah, but He shouldn’t have told us to be fishers of men. It makes me think of a stringer of dead folks, and what good is that?”

  “Oh, Pete.” Patsy shook her head. How strange the Bible’s teachings must sound to someone who had rarely heard them.

  “What I’m saying is that if you fish for men,” Pete muttered, “then you’re gonna have a problem on your hands. You’d think Jesus would have been smart enough to know that, Him living out by Lake Galilee.”

  “He was smart, all right,” Patsy countered. “The thing is … people do have to die once they get caught by Jesus. You know how Pastor Andrew always reminds us that we have to die to ourselves?”

  “How—like that business about taking up our cross?”

  “Yes, and giving up our life in order to save it. All those famous verses from the Bible. If the true Fisher of Men reels you in, Pete, you are going to die to your old self and be born again.”

  “Born again.” With a snort of disgust, Pete laid his rod on the bench and took a round can of snuff from the back pocket of his jeans. “I’ve heard that one before. I never wanted to be one of those born-again kind of Christians. Holy Rollers is what my dad called them. Crazy-sounding folks, if you ask me.”

  As Pete reached for a pinch of tobacco, Patsy snatched the can away and flung it out across the lake. It made a couple of skips over the water, then disappeared beneath a wave.

  The moment she realized what she’d done, Patsy dropped her pole onto the dock and covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, Pete, I am so sorry,” she said. “Sometimes I act without thinking, and it never turns out right. I’ll get you another can of snuff. In fact, I’ll drive over to the convenience store right this minute—”

  “Calm down,” he said, patting her bare knee with his minnow-baiting hand. “Don’t you worry about it, pudd’n. I need to quit chewing anyhow. Dr. Groene says it’s bad for my teeth and gums.”

  Patsy glanced over at him. “You’re not mad?”

  “Naw. Hey, look who’s coming up the dock. It’s Steve and Brenda Hansen. And they’ve got Cody, too.”

  He waved at the handsome couple strolling hand in hand. Behind them sauntered the thin, curly-haired young man who had found both residence and employment among the homeowners in Deepwater Cove. Cody was a little slow to figure things out, but he was the hardest worker Patsy had ever employed at her salon. He kept the place spic-and-span, and he was polite to the patrons too.

  “Caught anything?” Steve Hansen asked.

  “Nothing but this pretty gal here,” Pete answered, sticking a thumb in Patsy’s direction. “We’re just warming up our rods. You going out in your boat?”

  “Yeah, we thought we’d look for a quieter cove. Brenda wants to try to teach Cody how to swim.”

  “I don’t want to swim,” Cody said. “My daddy always told me that swimming is for fish, and I am not a fish.”

  “You’ll be fine,” Brenda assured him. “I taught my three kids, and they love it. Once you learn how, you’ll enjoy swimming. It’s fun.”

  “Okay.” Cody gave the word a backwoods Missouri twang—oh-kye. “Patsy and Pete have minnows in their bucket. You can eat them if you’re real hungry, Patsy, but I wouldn’t if I was you. They don’t taste too good.”

  “Thanks for the warning, Cody.” Patsy smiled at him. “You sure are looking dandy today. I believe we’ve finally got your hair just the right length.”

  The young man blushed and clapped his hand on his head. “You always cut my hair good, Patsy Pringle. Especially the first time.”

  “We’ll never forget that big event; will we, Brenda?” Patsy murmured, grinning at Steve’s lovely wife. After a difficult adjustment to the empty nest, Brenda and Steve Hansen seemed to be back on track. In fact, today they looked as chipper as a pair of lovebirds perched side by side in the summer sunlight.

  “Cody came out from under all that hair and surprised every one of us ladies,” Brenda said.

  “And you came out from that rocking chair you were always sitting in too.” Cody nodded at Brenda. “You did, huh? You were sad all the time, and you didn’t want to talk to me. But now you’re happy.”

  “That’s right, Cody. I’m feeling lots better.” Brenda smiled at Pete and Patsy. “I wanted to tell you we found a roofer whose bid was reasonable. He’ll be starting work in a couple of weeks.”

  “That reminds me,” Pete said. “Thanks for patching the leak over my cash register, Steve. I’ll be glad when they put a new roof on the whole shebang. I mailed my rent check on Friday, by the way. You ought to have it by Tuesday.”

  “Mine, too,” Patsy echoed.

  Steve and Brenda had recently purchased the strip of attached shops in the nearby town of Tranquility. Now they were busy tend
ing to the many repairs neglected by the former owner.

  “And did you hear our good news?” Brenda asked, leaning one shoulder against the dock’s iron post. “We found a renter for the empty store.”

  “Who?” Pete and Patsy asked at the same time.

  “Her name is Bitty Sondheim,” Steve said. “She’s new to the area, and she’ll be opening a little restaurant called the Pop-In. Just breakfast and lunch.”

  “There goes my hot dog business,” Pete lamented.

  “Uh-oh.” Cody shook his head.

  Everyone knew that Pete’s hot dogs were among Cody’s favorite foods. Patsy could see that the young man was crestfallen, and to tell the truth, she didn’t feel so good about the information herself.

  “I doubt you’re going to lose much traffic to the new place,” Brenda told Pete. “It’ll have a different kind of food than yours. The owner wants to serve mostly omelets and sandwiches.”

  “Sounds too much like my tearoom,” Patsy said. “I’m happy you didn’t rent the space to that man who wanted to open an adult video store, but I don’t know what I’ll do if people stop coming by for tea. It’s helped so much financially, and I’ve got those local ladies baking for me. They count on that extra income. I really can’t afford the competition.”

  “Don’t worry,” Steve said. “This new place is missing the one thing you’ve got, Patsy: chairs. Tables, too, in fact. There’s just a kitchen, a front counter for ordering, and a little bit of standing room. People won’t be able to sit around and chew the fat.”

  “Patsy doesn’t serve fat,” Cody spoke up. “She serves chocolate cake. It comes in squares, just the way I like it.”

  “You mean no one can sit down to eat?” Patsy asked. “So this little restaurant is going to serve fast food?”

  Brenda nodded. “Basically you’re right—only it won’t taste like fast food. That’s what the owner assured us. Bitty got the idea from a little beachfront restaurant in California. It’ll be omelets-to-go and sandwiches-to-go. She wraps everything in parchment paper, warm and easy to hold. Real cute, too, and reasonable prices. She’s got a simple menu that one or two cooks can handle—with no need for waitresses or busboys.”

  Steve slipped his arm around his wife. “Brenda is going to do the interior design for the place. She has some great ideas for a color scheme and decorations.”

  “Now there’s a good idea,” Patsy said. “I don’t think any house at the lake is as pretty as yours.”

  “Hey, you haven’t seen mine,” Pete protested.

  “You’re my friend, Pete, but I shudder to think what your place looks like.”

  “Shudder all you want. I’ll have you know I’m as neat as a pin, handy with tools, and a fanatic about my yard. I built all those planter boxes for the shops, didn’t I? You’ve never seen flowers as happy as the ones in my garden at home. And how about that soundproof wall I put up between your salon and my store? I can do carpentry with the best of ’em. Not to mention my cooking, which I must say is pretty up-and-walkin’ good. I make the tastiest chili anybody ever ate. When I fry up a mess of fish and hush puppies, there’s not a soul around that can stay away.”

  “You’re mighty skilled at bragging, too,” Patsy added. “Well, one of these days maybe Cody and I will come over and inspect this house and yard you’re so proud of, Pete. Meanwhile, I’m glad Brenda is going to put her artistic skills to work on the new shop. If you have any ideas about improving the looks of my salon, honey, I’d be happy to hear them.”

  “I’ll give it some thought,” Brenda said. “Well, we’d better head out in the boat if I’m going to begin teaching Cody to swim before sunset.”

  “I don’t want to swim,” Cody said. “My daddy always told me that swimming is for fish.”

  As Brenda and Steve started toward their boat, Cody dawdled behind. When the couple was safely out of earshot, he leaned over and spoke in Patsy’s ear.

  “I … am … not … a … fish,” he emphatically enunciated.

  “I know you’re not a fish,” she whispered back. “People swim too. Now go get on the boat.”

  “Okay,” Cody said forlornly.

  Pete was chuckling as he cast his line out across the water again. “That Cody’s got more brains than folks think. He knows he’s not a fish, and that’s just exactly what I’ve been trying to tell you. Jesus missed the mark when He told His friends to be fishers of men. That idea is plumb loco, and don’t try to explain to me about being born again, Patsy Pringle. I got born once, and that was plenty.”

  Patsy pinched her lips shut and reeled in her line. Pete sure thought he knew a lot about everything. But he had no idea that the woman on the bench next to him was fishing for more than crappie and bass. She was fishing for him, and if she had her way, Pete Roberts would be born again before the summer was out.

  As Kim Finley and her twins approached the lakeshore, she waved at the couple on the end of the dock. It was nice to see Pete Roberts and Patsy Pringle sitting so comfortably together, she thought. They made a perfect couple. Though Patsy was reluctant to admit it, everyone else knew Pete had fixed his eye on her the moment he opened his bait shop next to her salon. She enjoyed his company too, even though she complained about him. Kim wondered how long it would take for Patsy to come to her senses. It hadn’t taken Derek long to win Kim’s heart, she recalled as she watched Luke and Lydia race ahead of her toward the water.

  A short distance from the swimming area stood Deepwater Cove’s dock—a double row of boat slips with decking in between and a roof overhead. Today, nearly all the boats were out on the water as full-timers and weekenders made the most of the beautiful weather. The place where the neighborhood’s families could picnic and swim featured a large parklike patch of green grass, several shady trees, a bench, and a few tables and chairs. A square wooden swim dock floated in the center of a roped-off area of water.

  It was a little late in the day for a swim, but Kim had finally given in to her twins’ desire to join the neighborhood’s other children on the beach. She packed a basket of thick towels, snorkels, masks, flippers, and healthy snacks. Then she added the zippered bag she had put together for Luke to keep with him at all times. Syringes, a monitor, needles, insulin, and glucose pills filled the bag they had come to call his “insulin kit.” As the kids raced to the water, Kim spread out a blanket and settled in the shade to watch them paddle around and splash each other.

  “Well, that was a major flop.” The cheerful voice behind Kim belonged to Brenda Hansen. Hair damp, the slightly older woman sat down cross-legged on the blanket. “I hope you don’t mind if I join you, Kim. I could definitely use some female companionship after what I just went through.”

  “Sure, I’d love your company. Derek’s working, and I’m keeping an eye on the twins.” Kim could see the outline of Brenda’s wet bathing suit beneath her T-shirt. “What happened?”

  “I tried to teach Cody how to swim.”

  “Uh-oh.” Kim was sympathetic, but aware of Cody’s quirks, she couldn’t hold back a smile. “Trouble?”

  “First he started yelling, ‘I am not a fish! I am not a fish!’ over and over.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “When I finally got him off the boat and into the water, he thrashed around so much that he nearly drowned both of us.”

  “Did he have on a life jacket?”

  “Of course, but that made no difference to Cody. He was petrified. The next thing I knew, he had lost his swimsuit.”

  Kim threw back her head and laughed. “You’re kidding! How did that happen?”

  “He hadn’t tied the string around his waist, and the elastic was too loose. There we were—flailing around, Cody and I hollering at each other, Steve yelling at both of us as we all searched for Cody’s trunks. And then here came a Water Patrol boat.”

  “Was it Derek?”

  “I wish. The officer thought we were trying to drown a poor naked man. He jumped into the water and so did Steve. There we
all were, churning up waves and struggling to hear each other over Cody’s hysterics. It was ridiculous! Cody kept grabbing the ladder on the boat and trying to haul himself out of the lake before we had found his swimsuit.”

  “Oh, I can’t wait to tell Derek!” Kim giggled. “This will rival some of his stories, for sure.”

  “I finally found the trunks snagged on the propeller, and Steve and the officer got them free while Cody sobbed his heart out. You would have thought we really had been trying to do him in. Poor guy. Then the officer happened to mention the drowning near Deepwater Cove, and that made Cody cry even harder. Finally Steve helped him get dressed, the officer went on his way, and we all got back in the boat and came home.”

  “Wow, you must be exhausted. Where’s Cody now?”

  “He and Steve went up to the house. Cody was eager to frost a cake we baked before we left.”

  “Let me guess—chocolate?” Kim asked, and the two women shared a smile. “I can’t picture Steve baking a cake. Does he cook often?”

  “He never used to lift a finger in the kitchen, but lately he’s been doing a lot of grilling for us. He discovered he likes to bake, too.”

  “That’s fantastic. Derek helps when he can, but his hours are so unreliable that most of the cooking has fallen to me.”

  “That’s how we used to be. But in the last couple of months, things have been a lot better.”

  “I’m so glad, Brenda. I didn’t want to pry, but I’ve been concerned. You seemed very depressed. It reminded me of how I felt during my divorce. You look so much happier now.”

  Brenda reached over and gave her a hug. “Thanks for caring, Kim. Now that I think back on what happened, I can see that things hadn’t been great between Steve and me for a long time. But we really started to fall apart about the time Jessica and Justin went off to college and Steve got so busy selling real estate. His new agency kept him away from home constantly. I’ve learned that I need my husband to spend quality time with me. Steve simply didn’t have any time to give. That hurt me so much that I withdrew from him into myself, and nothing could make me feel better.”