The Naked Fisherman (Fisherman 1)

“What do you mean he started it?”

“We’re friends. Just friends. Sometimes we watch TV together down here. Sometimes we hang out and have a beer or two. I don’t even know when it happened really, but he’d knock twice to come down here, and I’d have to go up the stairs to unlock the door. So eventually, I stopped locking it on my side, and he stopped locking it on his side. But, by all means, if it makes you more comfortable, you can lock it while I’m gone.”

I traced my fingernail along the zipper to her suitcase. “It’s no big deal. I might lock it if I remember.” Oh … I was locking it. That was a guarantee. However, there was no need for my mom to know just how little I trusted the naked fisherman.

“Well, I trust him. I wouldn’t leave you in the same house with someone unless I trusted them with my life and yours. I’m a good judge of character. Fisher is one of the good ones. I mean…” she smirked “…don’t get me wrong, I told him I’d remove his testicles if he for one minute looked at you inappropriately.” She laughed.

I wasn’t sure what she was laughing about because I felt certain he had already given me that look more than once.

So I wasn’t so sure about his “good one” status, but I knew I was about to find out.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

Keeping her gaze on the shirt in her hands, she smiled. A sad smile. “I don’t have a boyfriend. I’m pretty sure I’m done with men.”

“But you have so much life left to live. I’ve prayed for you. I’ve prayed that you would find happiness again. I’ve prayed that you would be able to stay clean too.”

“Clean?” She glanced up.

“The marijuana.”

After a few seconds of intense contemplation, she found her sad smile again. “Thanks for praying for me. I’m not sure God’s ready to give me His grace yet, but I do appreciate you thinking I deserve it.”

I let her finish packing without asking anymore questions, but I had a lot. There was so much Dad didn’t tell me. Maybe he thought he was protecting me, but I didn’t feel protected when he died, leaving me with so many unanswered questions.

“Fisher’s taking me to the airport in the morning. We’re leaving early … four-thirty. You can come if you want to, but I understand if you want to sleep in.” She zipped her suitcase and set it by her bedroom door next to her carry-on bag.

“I’ll come.”

That seemed to make her smile, a real one that showed both of her dimples. “Great. I’ve written down things for you. My number and the number for the salon where I’ll be. Wi-Fi password. I wrote down Fisher’s number too, in case he forgets to give it to you. You have your grandparents’ contact information, and I’m leaving you the keys to my car and some money for gas and food.”

“No.” I shook my head. “You don’t have to leave me money. I have money from Dad’s …” My nose wrinkled.

She blinked a few times before recognition ghosted along her face. “His life insurance.”

“Yeah,” I whispered.

We didn’t talk anymore about my dad or the money that I had, the money that would be given to me in increments as I got older, including money assigned to my college fund that I wasn’t sure I’d use.

We ate dinner. Watched TV. And turned in early for bed.

Four-thirty came too soon. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and stretched on yoga pants and an oversized tee.

“Coffee?” Rory asked.

I shook my head and yawned. “I might go back to sleep when I get back here.”

“Good idea. Let’s go then. Fisher has already carried my suitcase up to his truck, and he’s waiting on us.”

“K” was all I managed on a second yawn as I followed her out the door and around to the front of the house, where a white truck with Mann Construction, Inc. on the side of it waited for us.

“Morning, ladies.” Fisher smiled as I climbed into the back seat and my mom hopped into the front seat.

“Morning. I think Reese might be regretting her decision to ride with us to the airport.” My mom laughed.

“I’m good,” I said on yet another yawn.

Fisher and my mom chatted on the way to the airport while I grabbed a quick nap. When he pulled to a stop in the drop-off lane, I climbed out and stretched while he retrieved the suitcase from the bed of the truck.

“Take care of yourself, and take care of my baby girl,” Mom said while giving Fisher a big hug. “And remember … she’s my baby girl. Nothing more.”

What did that mean? Fisher winked at me over her shoulder. Really? What the heck was that all about?