Fools Rush in(69)

As the boat skipped across the choppy waves, I began to know why. If I fell overboard, would I be able to swim to shore? How cold was the water? Were there sharks underneath us? What about giant squid? As we crossed the wake of a bigger vessel, popping over the swells, my stomach rolled, and I clutched the seat.

“Isn’t this the best?” Joe called, the wind whipping his hair around his face.

“You bet!” I chirped, clenching my jaw against the bile that surged upward. Look at the horizon, I instructed myself. My stomach lurched again, making me grateful I hadn’t eaten breakfast. I breathed through my mouth and looked around the boat for flotation devices.

After about an hour, we stopped, and Joe scrabbled about.

“Ready to fish?” he asked.

“Oh,” I murmured, envisioning the effect of bait on my unsettled stomach. “Hey, let’s just sit for a minute and look around.” The boat rocked vigorously. Was this really safe? Normal? Tripod and Joe did not appear worried. Joe came over and wrapped his strong arms around me. He felt solid and warm and safe, and my seasickness released its grip somewhat.

“Lie down, Tripod,” Joe commanded, and his dog obeyed instantly. “You okay?” Joe asked me, kissing my hair. I smiled.

“I’m great.”

The only sounds were the wind and the waves slapping at the sides of the boat. “You know what?” Joe asked.

“What?”

“This is the longest I ever dated anybody.”

“Really?” I answered, remembering to sound surprised.

“It’s the truth.” He kissed my neck, and my heart swelled. I couldn’t be wrong about Joe. We would be perfect together soon enough. Soon, that hidden, heroic side of Joe would emerge once more, and I’d know that I had been right all those years. Pretty soon he’d be saying the L word, buying a ring, and we would be perfectly happy together.

“What about you, Millie? Ever been serious with anybody?”

“Well…” I pretended to muse. The truth of my dating history would never pass my lips, not in front of Joe Carpenter, at any rate. “No, I guess not really serious. Being in medical school and residency and all that…”

“Right.” He didn’t say any else about our relationship, and I decided not to push for more tender words. We were quiet for another minute, as Joe seemed to have exhausted his curiosity about my love life, and then I asked a question my stalking had been unable to answer.

“Joe, how did Tripod lose his leg?” At the mention of his name, Tripod wagged his tail vigorously.

“Oh, that.” Joe stood up and started rummaging in one of the coolers. “Well,” he smiled sheepishly, “I hit him.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I know. It was pretty bad. He was a stray, roaming around, eating trash and all that. I was driving home, and I guess I wasn’t paying attention, had a couple of beers and all, and I just…hit him. Took him to the vet and felt so guilty that I adopted him.” Another sheepish grin.

“Joe! You can’t drink and drive! You could kill someone.”

“I know,” he said, then he began baiting the hook with a small fish. I tasted bile and looked away.

“That’s how Sam’s parents were killed, you know,” I said harshly. The memory of Sam, bent in grief at his parents’ funeral, punched me in the heart. I had cried myself sick that weekend, and I’d barely known them.

“Really?” Joe’s eyebrows raised.

“Yes! Don’t you remember? We were in high school, and Sam had just come back from Notre Dame…. It was on the news and everything, Joe. Half the town went to their funeral.”

Joe obviously didn’t remember. Still, he nodded. “That sucks,” he said.

“It more than sucks, Joe!” I snapped.

“Okay, okay, Millie. You can relax, okay?” He grinned, and I looked away. “Millie,” he continued in a more serious voice, “don’t worry. I learned my lesson. Okay? Forgive me?”

Let it go, Millie. Don’t ruin this day. It was a long time ago, anyway. I took a deep breath and looked at the endless blue sea. “Just don’t ever do it again, okay?”

“Of course not. Like I said, I learned my lesson.” He squeezed my hand, and my anxiety melted a little. I managed to smile at him, and he kissed the tip of my nose. “Here you go,” Joe said. He cast into the water and spun out the line, then handed me the pole.

We didn’t say anything else for a long time, just watched the water, the breeze ruffling our hair, the waves slapping the side of the boat.

“I can’t think of a better way to spend the day,” Joe said. “Being out on the water with my honey.” He turned and gave me the full power of his green eyes and gorgeous smile, and whatever concern was in my heart melted. Honey. He called me honey. I was Joe’s honey. Even if he had done stupid things in the past, he called me honey.

For the next hour or so, I commanded myself to have fun, to enjoy this lovely day with Joe. Unfortunately, I was undeniably seasick, and of course, I’d forgotten sunscreen. Though it had been cloudy when we’d started out, it was sunny on the water. Joe didn’t have sunscreen (it would be so unmanly!), but he found a foul-smelling Red Sox cap, which I dubiously donned, hoping I looked gamine but fearing otherwise.