Page 59 of Next in Line
“You say they ran off with your clothes?” he sputters, coughing out a wet noise from his throat around his barks of laughter.
“They sure did! We had to run all the way back into our cabin in the buff!” Maggie exclaims and then turns to acknowledge me. “Hi, Sam! I was just telling Marv about our fun weekend.”
“Oh, I’m glad you’re telling him only the good stuff,” I deadpan, narrowing my eyes at her.
Maggie purses her lips together. “Well, I could tell him about your big rod instead?”
“That’s enough for today, sparky!” I wrap my arm around her head so I can cover her mouth with my palm. I lean over the counter, and say casually, “Talk to me, Marv. Where are we fishing at today, and what kind of bait do you think will get the job done?”
Marv gets to work helping me, but I swear to fuck, his eyes have a twinkle in them as he scoops up some minnows into a tub and hands them over to Maggie. Minutes later, Maggie and I are in my truck and driving out toward a secluded spot called Fawn Lake.
“No snowmobile this time?” she asks from the passenger seat as she adjusts her seat belt.
“Nah, I didn’t want to waste time running all the way home first.”
She shakes her head sadly. “That’s a shame. I thought maybe you’d let me drive this time.”
“Did you now?” I give her the side-eye with a mischievous glint. “Is that to get a picture for your ex or just for fun?” I blurt out the last question without thinking and instantly wish I could take it back.
Why am I bringing that fucker up in the first place? I shouldn’t give a shit about him because Maggie and I aren’t long term. Yes, I’m doing something different with her than I’ve ever done with any girl, but that doesn’t change the fact that we’re temporary. Like a catch and release.
Her brow furrows, and I think my comment may have hurt her feelings when she turns to look out the window. “Not everything is about Sterling.”
I feel bad for zapping our happy mood, so I reach over and squeeze her thigh playfully. “I think Marv might have a sled. If you keep sweet-talking him the way you were, I’m sure he’d take you for a spin.”
“Maybe I will,” she chirps and turns to stick her tongue out at me. “If I become buddies with him, then I won’t need you anymore, that’s for sure.”
I laugh at that response. “I know he’s a better fisherman, but I’m afraid I can’t report back on his big rod.”
She giggles, and the mood goes right back to easy and fun. A few minutes later, we pull up to the lake and make quick work of setting up the fishing hut. Maggie remembers a lot of the setup instructions from the previous two times, so it goes really smoothly. Once we step inside, I fire up the propane heater before helping Maggie bait her hook.
A comfortable silence falls over us as we bounce our rigs in the augered holes, and I can’t help but think about how easy it is to fish with Maggie. I’ve gone all these years without ever taking another person ice fishing with me because of the memories I had with my dad. But then Maggie barreled into my life, and everything feels different now. Less ominous and heavy. Lighter and brighter even. If it weren’t for her, I’d probably still be a lonely fisherman out here thinking about shit from my past that doesn’t mean a damn thing about my future.
“So are you ready to be the real boss tomorrow then?” Maggie asks, breaking our silence as she glances down at the video monitor that’s illuminating the water below.
I shrug my shoulders dismissively. “My uncle Terry seems to think I’m ready, so I guess so.”
“Are you pretty close to your uncle?” she asks, turning to look at me with wide, curious eyes.
“Yeah, we’re close,” I reply and have immediate flashbacks of him helping me out when I was a teenager. “I’ve worked for him forever. Honestly, if it weren’t for him, I would probably be walking a very different path in my life.”
“How so?” Maggie asks, still watching me thoughtfully.
I exhale heavily at how loaded that simple question is. But somehow sharing it with Maggie doesn’t seem as stressful as it is to share with anyone else, so I clear my throat and reply. “I used to get in a lot of fights when I was in high school, and my mom never really knew what to do with me. She was good with the girls, but with me, she’d always just cry. I’d feel bad for letting her down, but then the next day, someone would say something and set me off again.” I swallow a knot forming in my throat over that memory. “But then Uncle Terry stepped in and helped get my head on straight. He hired me to work at Tire Depot after school, and he hung this boxing bag up in the shop and taught me how to box out my aggression there instead of on some random asshole’s face.”
Maggie chuckles softly. “That seems wise…and also explains why that guy went down so hard at Marv’s that first day.”
I wince at that reminder. “Yeah, that’s the first time I’ve punched a guy in years, but that asshole had it coming with those disgusting comments. I don’t even feel bad about it because it felt really fucking good.”
She giggles, and I can’t help but laugh along with her. “But as a kid, I needed somewhere to my direct my anger. I was young and full of hormones…always on the verge of snapping at the stupidest shit.”
“Why was that, do you think? Was having three older sisters driving you crazy?” She watches me expectantly, having no idea how deep of a question she just asked.
To be fair, not many people do. Not even Miles. My childhood is not something I share with people. But for some reason, Maggie feels like a safe space. Like this weird in-between person who doesn’t truly exist in my real world because everything we do together is a secret. And when I stare into her lake blue eyes, I see something that makes me want to share. Something deep and meaningful. Something not casual.
I clear my throat and stare down at my hands squeezing tightly around my fishing pole. “Um, I don’t think I ever told you, but it was actually my dad who taught me how to ice fish.”
Maggie tilts her head curiously at my change in direction. “Oh, that’s cool. You haven’t mentioned your dad before.”
