Page 14 of Meeting Up with the Mason

With our life vests fastened, I had her get into the kayak first, then pushed off and climbed in behind. “I’m not an expert,” I said, “but growing up on the Cape, you tend to pick up some water skills.”

Alyssa sat ramrod straight. “This thing wobbles. Like, a lot.”

“You were expecting a rowboat?” I laughed. “I thought you were the planner!”

“Well, this was Plan B,” she muttered.

“Don’t worry about paddling until you’re used to the roll.” I touched her shoulder. “I promise not to dunk you.”

I pushed us into a steady glide, and once we had some forward motion, the kayak rocked less. “These are light and respond when you lean. I have a friend who swears you’re using your hips as much as your upper arms when you turn.”

Alyssa clutched her paddle in a white-knuckled grip. “Are you going to be okay if I don’t paddle? You just spent three days working on your hands and knees.”

“It’s fine.” That was pure, one-hundred percent bluster. My shoulders stung whenever I pulled back the paddle, but I didn’t want Alyssa to feel bad. We were alone with the waves and the birds. I guided us near some reeds. “Check over the side. There’s fish.”

Alyssa tried to peek without shifting her weight even a little. The kayak drifted to a stop, bouncing whenever the water rippled beneath the bottom.

She laughed. “I see them!”

“They stock Johns Pond with bass, perch, and trout. Granddad took me fishing once, but I hated it. I could understand if we were eating them, but it was catch and release, and you still had to put a hook through the fish’s mouth.”

Alyssa shook her head. “Imagine how scary that is. The fish must think it’s looking death in the face. Wouldn’t that make you review all your life choices?”

“Until this very second, I never thought of a bass reviewing its life choices.” I gestured to the shore. “There are otters in the Quashnet River that feeds the pond, and if I bring you close to the shore, maybe we’ll see frogs or tortoises.”

She nodded but kept holding herself stiff.

I paddled through the reeds as gently as I could. “If you’re still nervous, I can take us back to the beach. We could walk the trail.”

Alyssa looked off to the side of the kayak. “Since we’re both out here—what’s going to happen?”

A frog splashed off the shore as we advanced soundlessly.

Alyssa said, “When I go home, I can still talk to you, right? Or was this just a fun three days?”

It was just as well that she didn’t dare turn toward me. I said, “I’m a historian. I’m no good at predicting the future.”

Alyssa said, “Try. What do you want to happen?”

I wanted her not to go home, but that would be selfish. “What doyouwant to happen? You’re the one leaving.”

She said, “You graduate at the end of this year?”

“Two years, assuming my thesis finishes and I can defend.” I pushed us back toward deep water. It felt better having this conversation with nothing around us, where we could head in any direction at all. “Writing the dissertation, though—I’ve heard nightmares. It’s not unheard of for students not to finish on time. Or for their advisors not to let them go.”

Alyssa said, “You’re a hard worker. You’ll get it all done.”

“That’s a double-edged sword.” Staring at the back of her neck, I tried to sort my thoughts. “I haven’t dated since I started my Ph.D. program. There’s no time, and there’s not much money. It wouldn’t be fair.”

Alyssa said, softly, “Oh.”

“You asked if I had plans for a girlfriend, but I can’t see how it would work. Not with the schedule I keep. Would anyone want to hear from her boyfriend for fifteen minutes once a week?”

Alyssa looked at her lap. “Surely there’s more free time than that.”

I sighed. “Between chasing grants and accessing archives and doing my classwork—not to mention my research for my advisor and TA’ing for the underclassmen—not a lot.”

This was the responsible thing to say. I shouldn’t have kissed her yesterday. When I felt the attraction—when I realized she reciprocated it—I should have sliced things off at the knees. When she said she had to leave on Thursday, I should have said, “Have a great flight.”

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