The Lost Fisherman (Fisherman 2)

“Actually, I’m not ruling it out, if I can find a good job. And I’d need to look into the master’s program. But …” I shrugged.

“Do it!” She giggled. “I’m a little biased, but DO IT!”

I laughed. “I’ll see what happens in the next month with job prospects. Rory and Rose are already on top of looking for things around here. When I get back to Michigan, I’ll see where things stand with a few openings that were available before I came here.”

Before I skipped out on an interview because my heart was more mature but still just as foolish as ever when it came to the naked fisherman.

“Well, don’t be a stranger. Five years is too long.” She winked.

“Agreed.” I hugged her again. “Good to see you.”

Under the guise of job searching, I stayed just long enough for Fisher to get released from the hospital. Rory didn’t complain at all. Rose didn’t either, but I knew she was on to me.

“I called Angie and told her we’d drop dinner off but not stay long. I don’t want her to worry about food or have the burden be on his family.” Rory packed containers of food into bags. It was more than one meal’s worth.

“Good idea,” Rose said from the kitchen table, working on lesson plans.

“Peanut butter cookies.” Rory shook a container filled with cookies. “Fisher loves peanut butter. I bet that makes your stomach turn, huh, sweetie?”

Fisher didn’t make my stomach turn. He still made it do things, but only good things. But peanut butter was not back on my food list yet.

“I’ve tried it several times during school, but nope … still can’t do it.” I glanced up from my phone. “Ready?”

She nodded.

“Don’t hate me, but I’m staying here. I’ll stop by this weekend to see him. I’m just behind with my lesson plans.” Rose frowned.

“He’ll understand.” Rory kissed Rose’s head. “Love you. See you in a bit.”

“Love you too,” she muttered.

All the terrible things I was told about homosexuality. All the terrible, judgmental things that went through my head. And there I was watching my mom and Rose so in love. How could so many awful things be said and done in the name of God? It wasn’t His fault. It was a flaw with humanity’s need for control.

“Maybe being home will spark something with his memory,” Rory said as we drove to his house.

“Maybe. Is Angie living with him?”

“Yes, she has been since her mom passed. I bet tonight will be weird for them. Getting in bed with a stranger.”

I nodded slowly, preferring not to think about Angie and Fisher in bed. The last time I recalled her being in his bed, he was in the basement with me, and we were on the pool table doing very naughty things. Maybe the pool table was what they needed to show him.

Don’t be that person …

My conscience berated me and rightfully so.

When we pulled into the driveway next to Fisher’s work truck, I grabbed one of the bags from Rory, just to have something to do with my hands to hide my shakiness, my nerves.

“He got a new work truck?”

“Yeah, I think it was about two years ago,” Rory said, ringing the doorbell.

“Hi. Come in. This is so generous of you.” Angie took the bags from us as soon as we stepped inside.

Fisher was in a leather recliner, TV on, blanket over his legs.

“Hey, handsome. Welcome home.” Rory took the liberty of being one of the people he knew, and she kissed him on the head and patted his good hand. His other arm was still in a cast.

Fisher lit up like a child at daycare when a parent picked them up. Familiarity. “Hi. It’s good to be home.” He eyed me.

I smiled. “I saw Hailey the other day. She assured me things were fine. You need to just recover.”

“Hailey?”

“Hailey runs your office. Reese worked for you briefly. Remember? I told you that in the hospital. Reese stopped by to see Hailey.”

“Sorry.” He rubbed his forehead. “A lot happened in the hospital.”

“It’s fine. How are you feeling?” I asked.

“Pretty good. Can’t sleep well yet, but I’m tired a lot. I don’t like how the pain meds make me feel, but everyone seems to think I should still take them. I think they just want me to shut up and sleep while they pray my memory fully returns.”

Just as he said that, Angie appeared from the kitchen, and just as quickly, she returned to the kitchen. Rory gave me a look. “I’m going to see if Angie has any questions about the food we brought.”

I nodded.

“You can have a seat.” Fisher lifted his chin, signaling to the sofa.

“Thanks.” I eased my butt onto the edge, gripping my knees to keep my hands steady. Everything was so weird, so awkward.