Page 12 of Lakeside Little
Oliver slipped into a bathrobe. “Plenty,” he said. “And I’m making the most of the sun while it’s here. I don’t think we’re going to get an actual vacation this year.” He puffed out a raspberry. “Also, what do you think of her? It’s Mason’s pride and joy, you’re lucky he’s letting you take her out on the lake.”
“I think more than anything, he trusts Jack,” he said.
Oliver laughed. “Love you, cuz, but he’s only doing it because of how similar the two of you are. I think if it was anyone else, he would’ve pretended he didn’t even have a boat.”
“Plus, I think Mason thought it was funny that I’d actually volunteered to do some form of fishing.”
“Which reminds me, I want a picture, so I know you’re not making it up,” he said. “And Mason wanted me to ask if you’d bring us some fish over, assuming you have a good haul. He would never have asked himself, but I love the bass from the lake, if you catch any of them.”
In truth, the fish we caught and ate yesterday had been nice, but I could never survive on a diet of fish. It was just too—fishy.
Oliver headed inside, leaving me and Diego walking around the boat. I’d seen it a handful of times but never had the urge to ever want to go out onto the lake in it, purely because I wasn’t the best swimmer, and also because I liked my feet firmly on land.
“Bigger than I expected,” Diego said. “And some built-in shade. These stickers are cute too; do they have a kid?”
With pinched eyes, I stared at him. “No,” I whispered. “They’re—you know, like me.”
“Oh shit, well, that’s probably not all too surprising.”
“What’s not too surprising?” Oliver asked, walking out in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. He dangled the keys at us. “She’s got a half-tank of fuel, but there is a cannister you can fill. It really doesn’t take much, so as long as you’re not doing laps of the lake, she’ll be fine.” He handed me the keys. “So, what’s not too surprising?”
“The stickers,” I said, patting at the sun bleached and fading teddy bear vinyl.
“She needs a new look, maybe we’ll give her a makeover when fall comes around,” he said. “You two have fun though, and please, Jack, wear the life vest at all times. We don’t want a replay of you in the lake that one year.”
Stomping and missing. his foot, it was a reflex. “Don’t mention that.”
“What?” Diego asked.
And the embarrassing story of how I thought I was drowning in the edge of the lake water came out. It my defense, the sandy-sludge earth did feel like it was pulling me into it. And the worst part was that I was twenty at the time, so I couldn’t blame behind a kid either—even with my cute little pout and big lashes blinking, there was no escaping that past.
I was going to cling to the life vest anyway.
6. DIEGO
Once we were on the water, there was an instant feeling of relief through me. I couldn’t say the same for Jack, hugging his life preserver tight to his chest, right beside the backpack of dolls he’d brought along with him.
We’d stocked the boat while on land before setting it off at the boat launch ramp. There were a couple of rules, most of them were against speed boats and creating waves with machines as they disturbed the wildlife within the waters and around the water’s edge. It was all basic stuff, and from Jack’s deep breaths and reaction to the rock of the boat, I knew we wouldn’t be creating waves.
“Ok,” he said, sucking down some water. “I don’t get seasick,” he kept prefacing things with. “I’m just anxious about falling in, or my things falling, or what if I dropped my phone. And you know.”
“You’d absolutely hate a cruise then,” I said.
He shuddered. “I’ve seen videos of cruise ships that get caught in storms and sometimes I imagine myself on them and—ugh,” he feigned vomiting. “I would die instantly on the spot seeing a big wave.”
I held his hand, and he became preoccupied with the hardness on parts of my palm. “You’re gonna be fine out here with me,” I told him. “But I will need you to show me you how twisted the line around the lure again. Plus, look at the box of lures we’ve got to choose from.” I knew the secret to easing an anxious person in an uncomfortable situation, it was getting them to think of something else, getting their mind off whatever was troubling them.
“The rainbow one, obviously,” he said.
It took about fifteen minutes until he was completely fine with being on the lake, even as the boat swayed slightly. He didn’t gag or make any sound that made me want to aim his head over the side of the boat. The last thing I wanted was to dirty this thing.
Jack worked his magic on the lure and within minutes of having it in the water, there was a bite. A heavy bite, it took a lot to reel the sucker in. A large lake trout. Jack yelled at the sight of it. I immediately threw it into the cooler I’d prepared for fish as it writhed around, trying to get off the hook. Roughly the size of my forearm, it was a small beast.
“Ew,” he mustered, looking at it in the box. “I don’t think you need me to work my magic anymore.”
“I don’t think I’ll catch anything bigger,” I said, picking it up and holding it across both palms.
Jack stared at it. “I take it you want a picture with it.” He had a light grip of his phone as he held it and snapped photos of me with the fish. “Can we play some music?” he asked. “I think I need Britney.”
