My pen clattered to the floor, shattering what was left of my composure.
“Shit.”
I squatted to pick it up, and suddenly the old lady was squatted in front of me, directly between me and Jason. Her skin was deeply etched and kinda saggy, but her light blue eyes could have been that of a twenty-year-old.
“Just watch,” she said in a soft, muted voice.
I opened my mouth but then looked up at Jason by the counter, and I rose, carefully stepping to the side so as not to touch her.
“So what boat do I take?”
Jason shook his head as you would to a child that just wears you out and opened a cabinet with keys dangling from hooks.
“This one is already out and docked,” he said as he pressed the key into my hand. “No launching required. Just go in reverse first.”
I stared at the key and wished for another life.
“And since when do we call customers ‘dick-less’?”
That brought my head back up, and heat rose up my neck. But irritation won over embarrassment.
“Since he wanted to get in my pants and I’ve seen what’s in his.”
The corner of his mouth twitched into an almost smile. “Oh?”
“And not in a fun way.”
“Oh.”
“He’s just an older drunker version of what he was twenty years ago.”
“Shelby’s fortunate.”
I just raised my eyebrows at that. I didn’t have the fortitude to get into a Shelby discussion.
“Okay.” I rubbed at my face and felt lost. “He needs deer corn. I’m gonna go—deal with this. If you hear a loud bang, or we don’t come back tonight, send out a search party.”
“I’ll take care of the corn,” he said. A knocking noise came from the bait room, and Jason frowned his way back that direction.
The girls’ names were Celeste and Carole. Eight-year-old twins, but not the wear-the-same-clothes-and-fool-the-teacher kind. The brother left for some kind of practice, while Daddy-O and the rugrats were left with me, all signed in and donned with Jiminy’s caps. Celeste didn’t look impressed with the hat idea. She appeared to be the potential high-maintenance future cheerleader. Carole, however, promised to follow a more library-aide-slash-valedictorian route.
Celeste kept taking her hat off and tucking her hair behind her ears and replacing it. She had a neon pink rod and reel. Carole brandished a blue one. They were ready to go.
Okay. I downed two more cups of coffee before I remembered I would be out on the water for four hours. Four hours. Crap.
“Okay, let’s head down to the dock,” I called with enthusiasm. Hoping I fooled the dad. I carried the tackle box full of lures and Jiminy’s notebook of laminated fish pictures and notations. I would cheat my way through.
I watched the water approach, watched the boat bob gently, and felt the familiar buzz of anxiety fill my body. The sound of distant wind sang in my ears, and I shook my head clear of it. Then, as we reached the boat, the unexpected happened. I heard it. That unmistakable sound of body functions start to churn, reroute, and spew. I pivoted just in time to see little Carole pull a Linda Blair and blow forth half her body weight in vomit.
I jumped back. Celeste screamed. The dad cursed. Poor little Carole just turned green at the sight of what she’d done all over the dock, and did it again. Thankfully, she missed the boat. And the old lady sitting in it. She winked at me again.
The dad apologized and I turned the whole stinky crying procession around, with promises to reschedule when Carole felt better, and to please keep the hats. I breathed a sigh of relief and told them I’d meet them there in a moment.
When they were out of earshot, I turned back to her.
“What did you do?”
“No offense, but I’d rather my grandkids not be run up on a sandbar or impaled with each other’s hooks.”
She finished with a gravelly cough. First time I’d ever heard a spirit cough. Kinda figured that went by the wayside with that whole death thing.
“Your grandkids?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I began to laugh. “Oh, that’s just priceless.”
“They can come back another time,” she said. “Maybe I will, too. This looks like fun.”
“You made her throw up?”
She shrugged and her eyes lit up again. “You learn things.” She got up slowly. “And now she’ll go home and be allowed to curl up in bed and read all day.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What she really wanted.” She shrugged again and smiled. I pointed a finger. “You’re good.”
“You’re welcome.”
I laughed nervously. “That, too. I was petrified, thank you.”
We walked back up the dock, and I was careful to face forward like I’d long trained myself to do.
“By the way, what did you say in Matty Sims’s ear?”
She chuckled and coughed again. “I told him his penis was out.”
“And he heard you?”
“Nah, just gives him the idea.”
“Man, where were you when I was in high school?”
“Breathing.”
THE back door was open as I walked back up, and the banging noises I’d heard earlier were noticeably louder.
“I’m back,” I said, peeking in. “Holy crap.”
“Can you hand me that wrench?” he said, his voice strained from what appeared to be a nearly upside down position he was in.
I followed his finger to a rusty tool on the floor in front of the minnow vat. A floor now evenly covered in about a half inch of water. I handed him the dripping wrench and gingerly spattered my way around him. He had the cover off the water pump by then, and the motor made sounds like a giant card caught in a wheel spoke.
“What happened?”
“A hose ruptured, I think. There’s some electrical tape up front in the drawer. Go get it so I can wrap it before it completely pops.”
“That’s making the noise?”
“No, that’s making the mess.”
I smirked behind his head. As I turned, the noise stopped. “Hey, you fixed it?”
“Temporarily,” he said with a grunt as he tightened something a little more.
He was still on his knees in the water, and his jeans soaked it up. His hair stood out on end. It dawned on me that I’d never seen him messy.
“Hmm.”
“This thing needs to be replaced, but for now all I have are Band-Aids.”
“It’s pretty old.”
“It’s ancient,” he said, blowing out a breath. “And if I turn it off, it may not come back on, so can you please go get that tape before I prune up?”
The question barely crossed his lips when it happened. The hose burst under the pressure and whipped out, catching him across the side of his neck before he could duck.
“Jason!”
He fell sideways and attempted to grab the wildly gyrating hose as it blew fish water like a power washer.
“Crap!” I lunged and tried to grab it, too, but it sliced across my legs and arms faster than I could move. “Ow! Shit!”
Jason scrambled for it and his angle hit the hose so that water spewed directly up my nose at two hundred psi. I half screamed, half choked as I fell backward onto my ass with a splash. The burn made my eyes water and I coughed as I groped blindly.
“I got it,” he yelled, but it slipped past him and walloped me upside the head.
“Ack! Geez!”
Suddenly it hit my hand at just the right millisecond, and I wrapped my fingers around it. Not a great moment, because the power pulled me with it. Right into Jason. We went down like dominoes, me on top of him, nose to runny nose.
Chapter 8
TWO seconds later, the water stopped. Just stopped. We both head-snapped toward the offending hose—and past it to where Bob stood, his hand on the switch. His mouth twitched with the effort not to laugh.
“You turn the water pump off, it’ll stop,” he said.
&nbs
p; Jason and I both sucked air, and as we faced each other again, I was suddenly acutely aware of his arms around me and the fact that I was sprawled against him. I let go of the limp hose and pushed myself awkwardly off him, till I could sit. In water. But there reaches a point when you can’t get any wetter.
“Holy crap,” I sputtered.
Bob gave in and let out the laugh. “I heard the screams, thought I’d come check.”
“That was him,” I said, pointing.
Jason sat up and gave me a look, then managed a laugh through his recovery. He swiped a hand through his wet hair, then got to his feet. He held out a hand for me, but I was already on my way up, courtesy of the minnow tank.
“What a mess,” I said. “Is there a drain in here?” I surveyed the concrete floor.
“There is, but it’s old. It’ll drain slow,” Bob said as he pointed at some random holes.
“It’s done this before?” Jason asked.
“Once or twice.”
“Great.”
Bob and Jason surveyed the water pump and the health status of the shrimp while I plucked up random floating garbage.
“I’m gonna run home and shower this funk off me if you don’t mind,” I said, drawing attention back to me. “You should, too, this reeks.”
I pointed to his soaked clothes that clung to his body. Then following his gaze, I looked down at myself and instantly brought my arms up. My drenched thin white shirt and equally thin white bra now outlined everything. In vivid detail.
Bob quickly excused himself and wobbled away, while Jason, who was only a foot away, lifted his gaze to my face.
“That might be a good idea. Need a jacket?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Cute. No, thanks. I’ll be back in thirty minutes.”
But then he raised a hand to my hair, which temporarily paralyzed me until he pulled away a shrimp whisker.
“Oh God.” I cringed and attacked my hair.
“Wait.” He brushed fingers against my right cheek. “Was that me or the hose?”
I touched the bruise gingerly. “Same guy that got you.”
Taking his cue of brave moves, I touched the side of his neck softly where a giant red welt raised.
“It’s okay, I’m good.”
“Hit you pretty hard.”
He smiled. “I’ll live.” His eyes fell to my shirt again, which this time was only inches away. “Go get changed.”
I slogged into the house, met by Bo and his very curious nose. He stuck to my leg as I stopped short at the foot of the stairs, when I noticed Riley curled up in my dad’s ragged brown recliner.
“Hey, boog, whatcha doin’?”
She looked up from the album in her lap, and then did a double take. “My God, Mom, did you fall in the river?” Then she put a hand to her nose. “Or the sewer?”
“Neither. The shrimp vat had some issues. Why are you still home?”
“Am I not supposed to be?”
Bojangles let out a loud snort against my thigh, then swung his tail hard as he appeared to grin up at me.
“Don’t you work now?”
“At noon.” She gestured toward an old wall pendulum clock. “It’s only eight fifteen, Mom.”
I rubbed my face and winced at the contact with my cheek. “Is that all?” I pointed at the yellowish brown photo album. “What’s this?”
She shrugged. “Thought I’d blow some time with a nostalgia kick, but this one was on top of the other ones.” She nodded toward the wall of shelves that had every nuance of our lives. “Don’t think I’ve seen it before.”
Neither did I. And I had made them all. The one she held was older and unfamiliar.
“What’s in it?”
She flipped a few pages carefully. “Most of them are black and white. Old people pictures.”
“Really?” I sat on the arm, then remembered my state and got back up.
She flipped back. “Looks like Pop when he was young, see? And your mom?”
Funny how calling her Grandma or something similar was as foreign to Riley as “Mom” was to me. Hard to name someone you’ve never met.
I’d seen old pictures of my parents before, even a few of these pictures. But not in an album like this, with notes and comments like my baby album had.
“Put it in my room when you’re done, okay? I want to look at it later.”
“When you’re not covered in shrimp slime?”
“Pretty much.”
Bo jammed his nose into my crotch right then, and that was enough.
“Seriously! Go eat something!”
I must have been at least semi-menacing, because he semi-ducked.
“Hey, can I go hang out with Grady after work?”
“Grady?”
“Mm-hmm.” She continued to slow-turn the pages. I stood there and waited her out. “I’m not gonna look up for you to make this cute, so you may as well give it up.”
“Then you don’t want to go badly enough.”
That got me the look I so richly deserved. “Mom?”
“There, I feel better now.”
“God, you’re so weird.”
My shower was too quick to really enjoy, but I refused to throw my hair up and go again. I blew it out and dressed at least in jeans. Then grabbed the mascara on the way out.
Of course, Alex waited at my car. I looked back over my shoulder.
“Riley’s in there.”
He held up his hands. “And I’m not doing circus tricks.”
“Well then, feel free to get in, because I’ve got to get back to work.”
I grimaced as my door groaned so loudly I thought it might jump off and die.
“Such dedication,” Alex said with a grin as he just—ended up in the front seat. I prayed that Riley didn’t see that.
“So—bored today, are you?”
He looked me over with that sideways sexy way of his and I tried not to listen to my libido.
“Aren’t you just all fresh and perky for work in the middle of the morning?” he asked, then frowned as he leaned forward. “What happened to your face?”
I putzed down the gravel road that led off the property. “The shrimp vat blew a hose and flooded the bait room. I was in the way.”
“I didn’t realize you had such a dangerous job,” he said with a crooked grin.
“Me, either,” I said on a laugh. “Ugh, the whole back is drowned in funk.”
“Was it just you?”
“Me and Jason.”
I refused to look. I swear, I felt his eyebrows raise, and I wouldn’t look at him. It reminded me of Riley just moments earlier, and suddenly I felt her pain.
“Jason. That was the Nazi, right?”
I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth. “Yeah.”
There was a pause. “You didn’t look this good the first go-round this morning.”
I frowned at him. “Thanks. And you weren’t here this morning.”
He shrugged and looked forward. “Hmm.”
I shook my head. “Some people call that stalking, you know.”
“They don’t have a sense of adventure.”
I laughed. “Oh, okay.”
We were nearly to the shop when a memory hit me.
“Hey, remember those old family pictures? Of my mom and dad?”
He pulled out his sunglasses and put them on. God help me. “In your box?”
“No, the other ones. They were just loose. Come to think of it, I never did know where they came from. I guess my dad just had them out—handed them to me.” I shook my head. “I can’t remember.”
“Don’t know. Why?”
I flipped a hand to wave it off. “Riley just had an old album I don’t remember seeing before.”
Alex looked at me. “Really?”
“Mm-hmm. I’ll check it out tonight if I don’t fall into a coma first.”
He randomly touched buttons on the dashboard console that did nothing. “So, what’s the deal with Jason?”
“He’s
my boss.”
“And?”
I feigned major interest in a road sign. “There is no and. That’s all.”
I felt his eyes bore a hole in the side of my head, but I swore to hold out. My right ear started to twitch.
“Hmm.”
Thankfully, we arrived, and in typical Alex fashion, he gave me a sideways almost smile and walked around the side of the building as I went in. I took a deep breath and pulled my head back to the world everyone else lives in. I strolled in for the second time that morning and threw a casual smile out to Jason and two female customers who were clearly throwing pheromones to him.
“I’m back. You can go.”
The ladies turned around with an expression like I’d just killed their dog. They were obviously immune to the smell. Jason looked a little grateful for the interruption, which I had to laugh about a little inside.
“They want to book a fishing trip for their boyfriends,” he said, nodding at the schedules he had on the counter. “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.”
He gave me a once-over as he began his exit. “You look better this time around.”
Geez. “Get going, will you?”
He laughed and was out the door before the two women could bat their highly packed eyelashes.
“Okay,” I asked, “So are the guys serious fishermen, or just want to go have a good time?”
I got blankness.
“If it’s serious, they won’t have a good time?” the blonde with pink stilettos finally asked.
“Of course. If they are into the fishing, that in itself is a good time,” I responded. “But if they aren’t into meticulous fishing and high-tech tips, and want something more casual and laid back, then I’ll know how to match them with a guide.” Yin or yang. Jiminy or Hank.
“Mark’ll want the real deal,” the brunette with drawn eyebrows and D cups said as she fished out a red leather wallet from her Dior clutch. “He can do casual on his own.”
“Yeah, whatever,” said the blonde. “Tony’ll roll with it.”
I nodded and pulled Jiminy’s book out on top. “Will this be paid together or separate?”
Brunette looked at blonde. “I’ll get this, and you get the body wrap and wax this afternoon.”
“Cool.”
Reason Is You (9781101576151) Page 10
