The Naked Fisherman (Fisherman 1)

“What?”

“Just … I collect stuff that she used to collect. Now that she’s out of pris—” It occurred to me that Fisher might not know her past. Maybe he didn’t do background checks on his tenants. I wasn’t sure if Rory freely offered that information to people.

“I know she was in prison.”

On a breath of relief, I nodded several times. “Okay. I mean, I figured she probably mentioned it. Background check. References. Surely she had to be accountable for the previous five years.”

“I didn’t ask. No background checks. She told me.”

“Oh, okay.”

After a few seconds, where I hoped he would forget what we were discussing, he cut his eyes to me for a few seconds. “So … what did she and then you collect?”

As a young girl, my mom’s hobby was cool. And I benefited from it. As an eighteen-year-old young woman with a slight crush on a guy ten years older than me, my mom’s hobby that I took over no longer felt cool. In fact, embarrassed was the only word to describe it.

“She collected…” I needed to remind him that it wasn’t really my hobby “…toys from Happy Meals.”

“McDonald’s Happy Meals?”

“Yeah. She felt certain that, eventually, they’d be worth a lot of money. So she bought Happy Meals. Lots of Happy Meals. Sometimes the same toy would be offered for a week or two, maybe even longer if it was really popular. When that happened, I scored a trip to McDonald’s for a Happy Meal. She’d get two so I didn’t feel cheated out of the toy. But when there were multiple interrelated items available at the same time, like collector cards or something like that, she’d buy so many Happy Meals just to get all of them. And since she was likely to get a lot of repeats before getting one of each … whatever it was … she’d buy more than we would ever consume, even taking a minivan full of my friends. So she’d take Happy Meals, minus the toys, and give them to homeless people. Well, I take that back. When the toys were repeats, she’d give them the toy too.”

Fisher said nothing for a minute or two. The longest minute or two of my life. What must he have been thinking of Rory? Of me?

“And now you get Happy Meals for the toys?”

He was right. I had a nerd gene I didn’t like to admit. But when he made that statement, even I couldn’t deny I was a little zany.

“I don’t, really. Not now, of course, because she’s out of prison. There’s no need for me to do it now. If she wants to continue, she can do it on her own.”

The grin on his face swelled, and I wanted to crawl in a corner and die. “Did she ask you to do this while she was in prison?”

“Not exactly.”

“Have you told her you did it?”

“Not yet. I really haven’t had the chance to talk to her. I no sooner showed up and she left for California. I’ll mention it when she comes home.”

“But you’re done? You won’t be getting anymore Happy Meals. I mean … isn’t there an age limit for that?”

I rolled my eyes. “What are they going to do? Ask for the birth certificate of the child for whom you’re buying the Happy Meal?”

Fisher shrugged. “They probably should. Wouldn’t that be an interesting twist. Your mom going to prison for something that’s now legal in most states, and you going to prison for Happy Meal fraud.”

Covering my mouth, I giggled. He was being so ridiculous.

“Good thing you’re done now.”

I wasn’t exactly done. There were Pokémon cards that month, and I still had three to get. Then I would be done. It felt weird ending with something as incomplete as Pokémon cards. “Yup.” I popped my lips. “Good thing.”

“I collected rocks.”

Glancing at him as his attention remained affixed to the road, I ate up that grin of his—a mix between boyish and mischievous. “Like geodes and crystals? Precious stones?”

Pursing his lips upward a bit, he inched his head side to side. “No. Just rocks. Yard rocks. Playground rocks. Pebbles stuck in the soles of my shoes.”

Biting back my smile, I nodded. “Sounds awesome. Do you still have your collection? Or do you still collect? I bet you find a lot of rocks in your line of work.”

“I think my mom still has my shoeboxes full of rocks at home. I’ll have to ask her. Why? Do you want to see it? I can show you my rocks, and you can show me your Happy Meal toys.”

Again, he made me want to laugh, but I didn’t trust myself to not be too transparent with my tiny crush on him. So I cleared my throat and swallowed back my amusement. “I didn’t bring the collection with me. It’s uh …”