8. Grant
EIGHT
GRANT
I don’t watch reality shows. I don’t like the concept of witnessing someone else’s uncomfortable and embarrassing moments for the sake of my own entertainment. They have zero appeal, and I try to avoid even listening to recaps when coworkers chat about the most recent reality show disaster.
So explain to me why I can’t look away as Lila prepares to learn how to fish.
We set up camp in a denser forest than we did last night, tucked away in the trees. Thankfully for Lila’s sore back, we’ve left the lava flows behind for now, and our sleeping area should be relatively rock-free. We had lunch, explored the small lake, and are getting ready to catch dinner.
When Deena asked who wanted to fish, I expected Lila to decline. No part of what I know of her tells me she would enjoy either the standing around waiting or the end result of this endeavor. But she volunteered right along with the rest of us, despite the little curl of distaste along her mouth.
I admit, her physical beauty attracted me immediately, but her tenacity is knocking me out. She knows what she wants, and she’ll do whatever it takes to get it, even if personally, the thought of doing it makes her want to run the other way. Failure’s not an option for her. It’s impossible not to appreciate that.
Mitchell and Deena set up the collapsible fishing poles and handed them out, leaving us to find spots along the rocky shore. We’re using floats, both for the more obvious nature of them, and to try to keep the line out of the rocks in the shallows.
I’m absolutely delaying, fiddling with my reel while Mitchell shows Lila how to cast. She copies his demonstration in jerky motions, but she’s starting to get the hang of it.
After an especially good cast, Mitchell cheers her on before moving along to check in with the others. She’s white-knuckling the fishing rod like she expects it to fly out of her hands any second. Every now and then she gives the reel a turn to keep the float moving, but otherwise, she’s as still as stone.
Good for not scaring fish away, bad for enjoying the sport.
“You’re staring.”
She doesn’t look away from the float, which is a good thing. I am staring. I can’t help it. I haven’t taken my eyes off of her since she walked into Horizon Hikes yesterday morning. She’s fascinating and gorgeous, and I could listen to her talk for days on end and…yeah. I really need to get this staring thing in check.
Soon.
“I want to watch a master fisherman at work.”
That gets a laugh out of her, and her shoulders relax just a touch. “I’m available for private lessons.”
“Where do I sign up?”
She shakes her head, but I’m pleased she’s loosened her death grip on the pole. Now she almost looks like she’s having a relaxing day on the lake. I’m not sure what will happen if she actually catches something, but fishing’s ninety percent about the process.
“How do you even know the bait is still on there? Fish could have swung by, snagged the food, and taken off again, and I’d never know.”
“That happens sometimes. It’s good to reel the line in once in a while and cast again.”
She drags her eyes away from the float to look straight at me. “Aren’t you going to fish?”
I crack a smile. “In a minute.”
She gives me a dirty look and turns her attention back to her line, but not before I catch a glimpse of the smile she’s trying to fight.
I’m still watching a few minutes later when her float dips sharply in the water.
“I think something’s happening.” She sounds like she just unlocked a new fear.
The float dips again, and I set down my pole to move closer to her. “Looks like you’ve got a fish on the line. Reel it in.”
“Uhh…” She starts spinning the reel, but when the end of the pole curves toward the lake surface as the fish resists, she shoves the whole thing toward me. “You do it.”
I raise my hands in the air. “It’s your fish, princess. You’ve got this.”
“I don’t know how!”
“This is when you learn.”
She glares, but cranks on the reel, muttering something about mountain men under her breath. By the time it’s close enough we can see the fish swimming in tight figure-eights just below the surface, Mitchell has joined us to offer advice.
I watch and wait, saying silent prayers that she doesn’t accidentally lose the fish. This might be the win out here she needs. In another minute, Mitchell snags the fish out of the water right in front of her, deftly removing the hook with a small tool.
“Well done. Gorgeous rainbow trout.” He offers it to her. “Do you want to hold it?”
She recoils as if he just offered her…well, a writhing fish. “No way.”
“You sure?” He’s unfazed by her disgust. “It’s your first fish. Pretty big moment.”
She hesitates. Then, she reaches out to run a delicate finger down the pink line that decorates the fish’s middle. She shivers and wipes her finger on her pants. “Yeah, that feels like touching a fish.”
A tiny smile graces her mouth, though. Like she’s proud of herself against her better judgment.
“You want me to take care of it?” Mitchell asks.
“Uh, sure.”
In one swift motion, he slams the fish’s head against a large rock. The dull thud jolts through Lila like she’s been shot, her gaze bulls-eyeing to the middle of the lake. Mitchell hits the fish against the rock a second time, finishing the stun job.
“Great work,” he tells her. “I’ll clean and gut it and take it to the stove for dinner.”
She acknowledges him with a stiff nod, her lips tight between her teeth as he walks away. Otherwise, she doesn’t move. I give her a second, but I’m not even sure she’s breathing right now.
“Are you okay?” I ask softly.
She shakes herself like she’d forgotten I’m here.
“What? Yeah. That’s just circle of life stuff.” Her face twists as though my question is crazy, but she’s gone so pale I worry she might faint. With all these rocks around, she could get seriously hurt.
“Maybe you should sit down.”
“I’m going to go take a victory lap.” She passes me her fishing pole and raises both fists in the air in a sad little cheer. “First fish!”
“Lila, wait.” But she’s already heading back toward camp.
“Everything’s great,” she shouts back. “This is totally going on my presentation. Yay, me!”
I don’t know why she’s so obviously lying, but if she needs a minute, I’ll give her one. And only one. I gather up our fishing poles and take them back to camp before I go looking for her.
She’s not hard to find, so that’s good. She’s on a fallen log with her back to me about fifty feet away from her tent. I’m careful to make a little noise as I approach her, and she sighs heavily when I close in. I round the log, dropping into a catcher’s squat in front of her.
Her eyes are full of tears, stripes on her cheeks where they’ve already fallen.
My heart clenches in my chest. “Oh, princess.”
“I know it’s stupid,” she whispers, batting away a tear.
“It’s not stupid. Are you a vegetarian?”
She snorts. “No. I eat meat. I’ve just never been right there when the meat ceases to be.”
“I understand. I went hunting exactly one time.”
She tries to smile, but her chin wobbles. “That would be so much worse.”
“It’s okay if you need a minute.”
“I mean, I knew it would happen somehow, I guess, I just wasn’t expecting… that .” She lifts her eyes to the sky as if she can make her tears drain away. “I’ve never killed anything before.”
I set my hands on her knees. “You didn’t kill that fish.”
“Yeah, but it’s my fault.” Her gaze drops to meet mine. “I’m a fish murderer.”
I let the tiniest smile peek out on my face because she’s so adorable even when she’s weeping over a trout. “You’re not.”
She swipes beneath each eye, catching the tears. “I’m the monster fish parents tell their fish children about at night.”
I gently squeeze her knees, her skin warm beneath her leggings. “I appreciate that you can quote the MCU through your tears.”
She releases a long exhale. “I’m fine, I’m just…I feel like this is a sign.”
“Of what?”
She spreads her hands out, gesturing at herself, the trees, me. “I’m not meant for all of this. This proves how bad I am at being outdoorsy. And I don’t know if I can get this job if I’m this bad at being outdoorsy. And if I don’t get it…”
Her shoulders hitch, worlds of worry in that unfinished sentence.
“I respectfully disagree.”
She makes a dismissive sound, but I go on.
“I’m as big of an outdoors advocate as you’ll find, but even I don’t expect you to like everything you try. Nobody does. You just keep experimenting until you land on something that’s a good fit for you.”
Her mouth has a skeptical slant to it, but she holds my gaze. “What if I don’t find anything? What if I’m just not an outdoorsy person?”
I’m not sure if she’s asking what that might mean for her promotion opportunity or what that might mean for me personally. I can’t say for sure how it would affect her job outlook, but I can say with confidence it wouldn’t affect my opinion of her.
“You don’t have to do anything different. You’re wonderful exactly as you are, princess.”
Her smile lights me up like a firework in the night.
She presses her palms beneath her eyes and nods once. “Okay. Enough mourning the fallen fish.”
I stand and hold a hand out to her. She takes it, and I help her to her feet. “Ready to go back?”
“Meh. Then I’ll just be around everyone else’s dead fish.” A fat tear pools in her eye and slides down her cheek.
I bet it’ll be a while before she’s ready to deal with that. “Need a hug?”
Her eyes brighten. “I would really like that.”
She steps to me, and I fold her into my arms. Whatever I thought about shaking her hand, this is what will unravel me completely. How perfectly she fits against me, so warm and soft. Her hands pressing against my back, cuddling me close. An overwhelming sense of rightness I’ve never felt before.
She lets go first. I’m not sure it would have ever occurred to me.
“Thank you. For everything.” She smiles again and heads back into camp.
I follow, surreptitiously rubbing my chest. I’ve been so careful not to get burned by relationships again, but Lila’s tempting me to play with fire.