Chapter Fifteen Hunter
Chapter Fifteen
Hunter
Nothing about fishing is enjoyable to me.
The fucking boat is a problem, for a start.
Despite taking motion sickness pills I got from Ed, I don’t feel great.
My stomach has been churning since my feet touched the jetty.
And then there’s the stench of fish. How is this meant to be relaxing?
All I can smell is fish, and all I can see are glassy-eyed dead bodies while the horizon dances around like it’s at Coachella. Super enjoyable.
I glance back to the beach. I swear I could dive off the boat and swim back to shore from here.
I’m so tempted. I wonder what Lucy has arranged for the girls this morning.
Talking to her last night, things felt so open between us.
Like despite our pillow wall, we had none of the emotional walls between us that couples usually do at the beginning of a relationship.
Maybe it’s because we’re not really dating, but I don’t think that’s it.
I think it’s because Lucy can’t hide her feelings.
And knowing who she really is—at her core—makes me feel like I can show her everything too.
I don’t think I’ve ever had that with anyone.
Maybe that’s why I held back from launching myself over the pillow wall between us and kissing her.
I don’t think I’ve ever had sex combined with emotional intimacy before, and I don’t know where it would lead.
Something begins to tug on my rod, interrupting my thoughts.
I sigh and ignore it. I don’t actually want to catch a fish.
It’s gross. Let the damn things just swim around, living their best lives, and let’s go have a beer.
That’s my philosophy on fishing. But no one’s interested.
Everyone’s having the best time. Ed has already caught two small bass.
One had to be thrown back. The other was big and is in the bucket behind me.
“Hey, Hunter. Did you catch something?” Ed nods toward my line off the back of the boat.
“Oh,” I say, like I’m just noticing. “Maybe?”
The fishing guide, Brice, comes over. “Can you bring her in? Or do you need a hand?”
Despite not liking fishing, I’ve done it enough to know how to reel in a fish.
I set to work, pulling my rod up, keeping tension on the line while reeling and reeling.
I can tell by the tug that it’s going to be a big one.
The fish breaks the water before pulling my rod and going under again.
But not before I caught a glimpse. It’s a striped bass. “Looks and feels like a cow,” I say.
“A cow?” Ed asks.
“Striped bass over twenty-five pounds,” Brice says. “You know your fish, son.”
Brice grabs one of the larger nets and positions it over the side.
I pull up my rod. The fish is thrashing on the line, trying to get free, but my brain is hard-wired to do this.
I caught my first fish at five years old.
I’m not going to let this fucker go. It’s a big one, and I want to be able to tell my dad I caught it before I let it go.
I pull again, and Brice is ready with the net. I wind like mad and bring it clear out of the water. Brice scoops it up in the net.
“That’s a nice fish,” Brice says. “Haven’t seen one landed that big by a tourist in a while.”
Brice sets to work getting it out of the net and on the scale. I figure it’s got to be at least thirty pounds.
“Is that a fluke?” Ed asks. “Have you fished before?”
I shrug. “A little. With my dad when I was a kid.”
“I didn’t know that. Honestly, I thought you were a little squeamish about it.”
I’m not about to tell Ed I’d be happy if I never held another fishing rod in my life. But I don’t want him to feel bad about today’s trip. He’s clearly having fun, and that’s the aim of this weekend, right?
Brad starts to shout. “I got one! It’s strong.”
Brice leaves my cow on the deck of the boat, flailing around. Everyone’s attention goes to Brad.
I should throw my fish back. I just wouldn’t mind weighing it first.
Brad loses whatever was stuck on his line, and Brice comes back to my cow. At least it certainly looks big enough.
“Gotta be thirty pounds,” he says as he lifts it onto the scale.
Gotta be.
I watch the needle on the scale as it settles. Thirty-six. My biggest-ever catch. I bite back a grin. I shouldn’t feel as pleased as I do.
“Grab this mother and I’ll take a picture,” Brice says.
Why not? I can always delete it. Maybe Lucy would want to see it. I hand him my phone and take the fish. The feel of it—the smell—reminds me of summers spent out on the boat with my dad.
I hold it and look into the camera.
“We can eat that tonight,” Ed says. “Great catch, Hunter.”
“Nah. We’ve got a chef booked for tonight.” I glance at my watch. It’s just over five minutes since I caught this thing. “I better get him back,” I say.
“If you’re going to do it, do it now,” Brice says.
I launch the bass off the side of the boat, watching as it comes to life after hitting the water. I bet it thought it wasn’t going to get a second chance. I hope it survives.
Before I can second-guess myself, I type out a message to my dad and send him the shot of me with the bass. We haven’t spoken in a few months. That will make his day.
Reluctantly, I retake my spot next to Ed.
“You’re a dark horse,” Ed says. “First you’re secretly dating Lucy, and now you’re a fisherman.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “Not a dark horse. I used to fish with my dad when I was a kid. Haven’t done it in years.
” We would go out every weekend. I loved those weekends, just one-on-one with my dad.
I wanted so badly to grow up to be exactly like him.
It was why I did finance in college. I wanted to take over the family business. I wanted to become the man he was.
And then everything changed.
“Have you spoken to him?” Ed asks.
“My dad? Sure. A few weeks back.” It’s a lie. But a small one.
“That’s not what I mean. Have you spoken to him about the business?”
I gaze out at the ocean. “Nope. What’s the point?
He either knew the business was going down and let me take over a sinking ship, or he didn’t know, which makes him an idiot.
Either way, there’s no upside to talking to him about it.
” Dad finally retired five years after I graduated college.
I’d spent those five years learning the business from top to bottom—or so I thought.
I knew the clients. I understood the regulatory requirements. I was ready.
Except I wasn’t. Dad had kept the financial performance of the business a secret.
He’d told me parts, but I never got enough information to get a full picture.
I can’t help but think that was deliberate.
He had to know Bain Insurance was in dire financial straits.
The lease on our offices was too expensive and so tightly drafted it was impossible to get out of or move and sublet.
The salaries of a lot of the people who’d been there long before me were vastly inflated, but too much valuable company history sat with them, so it was impossible to fire them.
And there wasn’t any new business coming through.
I tried everything I could to save the business. It was unsalvageable.
“But maybe he has an explanation.”
“He’s had plenty of time to give it to me. It’s been nearly six years since we filed Chapter 7.”
I spent a long time blaming myself. My dad had run Bain Insurance for most of his professional life, and he’d provided our family with a good life.
We had a vacation home on the lake. A home in one of the nicest suburbs in Philadelphia.
We never wanted for anything. It was an idyllic life.
One I wanted to replicate for my own family.
“Maybe he’s embarrassed.”
“So letting his son take the fall is okay?”
“No one thinks Bain failing had anything to do with you.”
I let out a cynical laugh. “Of course they do. They all look at the situation and see that Brian Bain ran a successful business his whole life, and then within a couple of years of his son taking over, it was all gone. And he’s been a coward all these years and never set anyone straight.”
“But the reasons it went into liquidation were because of decisions your father made.”
I shrug. “No one sees it that way.”
“I see it that way.”
“Because I’ve told you and you’re my friend and you believe me.”
“So why don’t you tell people?”
“And embarrass my dad?” It was bad enough, gradually realizing my dad wasn’t the man I thought he was.
In the early months when I took over, he’d come into town and we’d have lunch or take a walk.
But his visits became less and less frequent.
Maybe it was because he was getting older.
Maybe he was just bored. Or maybe he saw the complete and utter disappointment in my eyes.
First, that he hadn’t built the successful business I thought he had.
But then, that he’d handed it on to me, and by doing so hung an albatross around my neck.
I was doomed to failure. I’d started off enthusiastic and full of energy, and by the time I closed the doors on Bain Insurance, I was broken.
I’d lost my confidence, and anyone who might give me a job in Boston had stopped taking my calls. I was a loser.
“I don’t know why you’re still protecting him,” Ed says.
“I don’t think I am. He knows what he did.”
“But does he?”
“If he doesn’t, he’s an even worse businessman than I know him to be.”
Ed shakes his head. I get that he’s angry on my behalf. But he won’t convince me to speak to my dad about it. “What really pisses me off,” Ed continues, “is that some part of you thinks it’s your fault. And that’s bullshit.”
I’m bored with fishing. I want off this boat. What the hell time is it, anyway?
“You guys ready to pull in your lines?” Brice asks us. I’m grateful for the interruption.
I just want to be back on dry land. And see Lucy. I’ve been a coward by not kissing her already. There’s no way I’m going to continue to be a coward. I’m going to tell her I want to kiss her, and I’m going to be able to tell by her expression whether she wants to kiss me back.