Page 9 of Next in Line
He pauses, his brows furrowing for a moment. “No, he doesn’t.”
Oookay, I think to myself. He clearly doesn’t want to elaborate on that subject. “Do your sisters ever come out here with you?”
He shakes his head with a laugh. “Definitely not. This isn’t their thing at all.”
Suddenly, Sam’s eyes go wide, and I follow his gaze to the video monitor. “You’re getting a bite, Maggie.”
“I am?” I squeal, my hands squeezing my fishing reel so tight, I feel like I could break the thin metal.
“Shhh, just stay calm…watch.”
The fish darts at my rig once, and a chunk of the bait floats away from it as if he got just a taste. Then it comes back and opens its mouth wide and…
“Set it!” Sam exclaims loudly.
“Set what?” I exclaim back.
“The hook!”
“What?” I cry out, completely confused. “What are you talking about?”
Sam drops his pole and quickly wraps his arms around me, his body snug against mine. “You have to set the hook in the fish’s mouth. Just give the pole a good jerk.”
He yanks the pole upward, and as soon as he does, I feel a heavy weight pulling down the tip of my pole. “Holy heck, is this a big fish?”
Sam’s warm breath tickles my cheek as he chuckles. “It feels like it.”
“Awesome!” I squeal because I can’t help it. This is all so thrilling.
Sam helps me through the process of bringing the fish up to the surface. It’s deep down there, so it’s a lot of pulling up on the pole, reeling it in, and then pulling it up again. It feels like it’s taking forever, but when the fish finally gets close to the surface, I see it going bonkers right below the hole.
“Think you can grab it with your hands?” he asks, his voice breathless and excited, just like mine.
“Sure!” I exclaim, biting the fingertips of my gloves and yanking them off my hands.
Sam looks taken aback for a second but then shakes his surprise off and grabs the line with his hand. The fish stills for a second, and as he quickly pulls it through the hole, he says, “Grab it right in the open gill there.”
I do it.
I don’t think. I just…do it.
It’s freezing and wet and kinda sharp around the edges, but I hold this big ole squirming fish in my bare hand. Flipping heck, I’m holding a fish! I squeal with delight, and my smile is ear to ear as Sam watches me with an equally pleased expression.
“This is way cool. I can’t believe I’m holding a fish right now.”
He laughs hard. “Honestly, me neither.”
“Right?” I exclaim and waggle my brows at him. “What do I do with it now?”
Sam’s shrugs. “Do you want to release it or eat it?”
“Release it,” I reply instantly. “Definitely release it.”
Sam takes the fish from my hand and gently extracts the hook from the fish’s mouth. It looks like a strong fish. Like a fish who probably had his whole life figured out before this hook came out of nowhere and completely derailed him.
I know that feeling.
I’m all too familiar with that sense of contentment when you’re confident in your next step. When you feel yourself climbing this perfect staircase, but then suddenly, someone comes out of nowhere and shoves you straight backward.
