12. Cory - Lazy Fisherman
Chapter twelve
Cory - Lazy Fisherman
T he long gray days of winter were weighing on Edie. So much had happened in a short time. She wasn’t prone to depression, but life had been hard. She wasn’t that person who couldn’t admit failure or fault so I was quite sure she blamed herself for much of the heartache she and her precious daughters were going through. However untrue that was, I found myself shaking my head not knowing how to help but making decisions was hard. Living with her guilt was tough, thinking perhaps she could have helped Sean. The scenarios haunting her mind came down to her unfaithfulness with Christopher always flashing like a neon sign.
Her parents had bought a place in Florida in a small fishing village. Her dad lived to fish, so this was the perfect spot for the big fishing boat he purchased. They invited Edie and the girls to join them for a couple of weeks before they headed back north to reopen the bar. I could see the wheels turning before she loaded the car and she and her six and three-year-old girls made the 1500-mile road trip. Leaving the cold dreary weather and trying to help her girls deal with the fact that they would never see their dad again, she hoped the sunshine and change of scenery would be the pill to begin their healing. I wasn’t sure this was a viable solution but I wanted her to do what she felt was right but I was certainly going to miss them.
This town wasn’t like you would picture Florida with white sandy beaches, fancy tourist shops, and restaurants. No, this was a true fishing village. The Barren River bordered the west side of town where most of the commercial boats parked with blocks of crab traps stacked ten high along the edge of the partially paved street. The Gulf of Mexico was a seven-mile trek through a marked waterway. This was an “I’ll work my ass off in the Everglades and Gulf to feed my family” town.
The change was like a soothing balm to all of them. Within a few days when we talked on the phone, I could hear a bit of hope in her voice. On my knees, I thanked God and hoped they continued to heal. There was no beach or public swimming pools in that town but Edie found a little lake a few miles away that was secluded and there were no ‘No Trespassing’ signs so several times a week she took the girls to swim in the spring-fed water. One day an old man pulled up in a battered rusty pickup truck and walked to the edge of the lake. Cupping his hands to his mouth, he yelled, “Hey missy, ought not to be swimmin’ in that lake.”
“Sorry, sir? Why not?” she asked as she dog-paddled closer to him.
Lifting his arm and pointing toward the other end of the small lake he said in his Florida Cracker drawl, “See them logs over yonder?” She turned and nodded to him. “Them ain’t logs, missy. Them are gators.” When Edie told me about that I almost vomited thinking about how narrowly they escaped death. She assured me of her intelligence and took the old man’s warning. They didn’t swim there again as she shivered when she thought of how close they were to becoming lunch for the four alligators who aimlessly floated near them.
A new seventy-room motel was just up the road called The Golden Lion. After asking permission to swim there and being turned down, they snuck in, breaking the rules. No one was ever there and Edie reasoned someone needed to stir up the water. The worst thing about that was swarms of huge black horseflies would take a chunk of flesh out of them. As much as they enjoyed the pool, it was impossible to hold their breath under the water to avoid the flies for more than a few seconds. That location wasn’t ideal.
They began driving further to the beautiful beaches in Marco Island and Naples where the girls loved spending time at the beach collecting shells and playing in the sand. No alligators, perhaps a shark or two but that was a minimal threat. They seemed happy and made friends with some of the local kids. When it was time for Edie’s parents to go north and reopen the bar, she wasn’t ready. I hoped she would come home; I missed her but it seemed she was getting better. It had only been a few months since Sean died and she couldn’t yet face her reality. Her mother allowed them to stay there rent-free so with the social security she got due to Sean’s death, financially they were okay.
Net fishing was big business in those days and there were only a few net menders so she went to the library to learn how to mend nets to make extra money. “Seriously Edie?” I questioned her. “I know you’re a country girl at heart, but sitting in the scorching heat weaving monofilament to repair nets for those old fishermen? Are you sure you haven’t lost your mind?”
She laughed. “My interior design degree won’t do me a damn bit of good in this town and I don’t think I’d be any good at pole dancing at the nursing home. What do I have to lose?” And just like that she was on to her next adventure. I never knew what would be coming next. One thing I learned is that not all fishermen are old and crusty.
One of her first customers was a local by the name of Cory. He was about thirty but looked older. His face was weather-beaten from the hot Florida sun and salt air. He was still a good-looking hunk with curly brown hair streaked with blond and built tough like a Ford truck. He had a boyish way and a strong southern drawl. When he smiled there was a hint of shyness as those dimples flashed like gumdrops. He brought lots of nets for her to fix and she wondered if he was getting them from other fishermen so he’d have an excuse to come by more often. They always had fun chatting and stretching the truth about fishing, but when she talked about him, I could tell she was lonely and found herself yearning for the touch of a man; not so much for sex but comfort.
“You know,” she said one day on our frequent calls, “I’m still wearing the gold locket Christopher gave me and I find myself caressing his face in the picture so I won’t forget that special love we shared. I can’t pursue that relationship but maybe someday. I should be missing Sean but I’m bound more tightly by the chains of guilt than I had been by the vows of my marriage.”
“Listen, Edie,” I began my lecture that I’d given her many times, “that whole situation had me scared to death. Someone was going to die; it was too emotional and volatile. I would never say Sean deserved that fate but he left you and the girls before Christopher came into your life. You’ve got to stop beating yourself up and move on. We can’t change the past.”
Oddly enough Cory had lost his wife in an auto accident just two months before Sean died so the grief they shared was understood. He had a three-year-old daughter but he had sent her to be with her aunt because the reminder of his wife was too great when he looked at her. That should have been the first red flag but Edie let it go. She liked his easygoing way, never in a hurry or rushing. He was calm and patient and didn’t mind if he had to wait for his job to be finished.
She loved the fish stories and she was getting an itch to become a fisherman if half of the stories she heard were true. As her closest friend, I could almost predict what would happen but hey, if it soothed some of her grief, I hoped she would go for it. I just had to wait for the phone call to confirm my suspicions. Unfortunately, there were horror stories about the drug cartels infiltrating the area to make their drops. Some fishermen who had been there their entire lives had disappeared and it was rumored they had been collateral damage of the cartel.
One late afternoon Cory came for his nets as she was finishing up. He mentioned it was a full moon and it was pointless to run nets until the tide turned. He planned to go to the Oyster Bar. “Hey girl,” he asked. “Why don’t you come with me for a burger and beer?” That caught her completely off-guard and without a thought, an enthusiastic “Yes” slipped out of her mouth. Making arrangements for one of the high school girls to stay with her girls, she agreed to meet him at eight o’clock. She almost resisted her urge but she didn’t. She deserved a bit of fun since she’d been beaten up by grief so many times although she wasn’t a ‘Poor me’ kind of girl. That was the story she told herself that night and it felt good to put some makeup on and feel like a girl for a change.
He was already there when she arrived. He cleaned up nicely and didn’t smell of fish. They laughed, drank too much beer and she made a fool of herself trying to shoot pool but it was a laid-back bit of fun she hadn’t expected. Cory put too many quarters in the jukebox and they swayed to old country songs that she thought she hated. It felt so good to be held in his arms, though when she closed her eyes, she pretended he was Christopher. She wondered if her heart would truly ever let go of Chris and I wouldn’t put money on it. I laughed so hard when she told me what happened next. I could picture it clearly as day.
They left the bar as the huge yellow moon peeked over the horizon. It glimmered across the water like diamonds. The night was hot and sultry. He pulled his pickup truck onto a grassy knoll, and turned off the engine as the radio played an old Johnny Cash song ‘Oh Lonesome Me’. He slowly put his rugged weathered hand around the back of her neck and pulled her toward him. She was so relaxed and didn’t resist. His kiss was slow and sensual just the way she liked it and she found herself pressing against him longing for more. He abruptly pulled away. “Hey, Edie, let’s go swimmin’! The water’s fine”.
Before she could answer he was stripping off his clothes and running toward the warm ocean. She could see his white cheeks below his brown muscular back. Laughing at the sight, she’d had enough beer to cloud her judgment so she stripped naked and ran to the water. They giggled when he caught her and leaned her back like a sexy dance move. He put his lips on her breasts lighted by the full moon and gently made love to her. He lovingly held her and she held him right back. They were two lonely broken people; there was comfort in this man’s arms like a healing salve. Though she welcomed it as a temporary fix at the time, she allowed it to become more serious than it ever should have been.
Two months later when he asked, “Edie, will you marry me?” she was unsure why she said yes. Maybe she thought it would fill in the missing elements in the relationship and there were plenty. The mistake was hers and it didn’t take long to realize people don’t change unless it’s their idea. Never offering to lend a hand when there was a project to do let her know he had little respect for her. Her interpretation of real love is putting your lover’s needs before your own, caring for them before yourself, and giving them the best of the two steaks you just cooked.
She told me about a large load of pea gravel delivered to use as a base for a storage shed she had purchased. The dump truck couldn’t unload near the site where the structure would be so the gravel needed to be moved by shovel and wheelbarrow. She got two shovels ready for them to work together to move the stone. Before she realized it, Cory was setting a lawn chair near the pile of stone, carrying a cooler with an icy six-pack of beer inside. He sat as she began shoveling. He had downed a couple of beers, clearing his throat he said, “Honey, if you put any more gravel in that wheelbarrow, it will be too heavy for you to push.” I don’t even know the asshole but that pissed me off.
She had been through too much to put up with this kind of disrespect. That wasn’t her idea of love and didn’t take long to determine this play wasn’t going to make it to Broadway. The reviews were in and this was a crash-and-burn flop. He liked himself but she didn’t. He was lazy, drank too much, and brought very little to the table. Edie always likes to give the benefit of the doubt even if it’s undeserved. “Jenny,” Edie said, “I know Cory is hurting, missing his wife. There’s such sorrow in that kind of loss and even more if they had a good relationship. He has been unable to address his feelings so I need to be a little easier on him. Men don’t seem to have the same coping mechanism and instinct for children as women. I understand that to a degree.”
“Good for you, Edie but I don’t get it. He’s that little girl’s father so she has lost her mom and her dad. I would think he would want her with him and would nurture her and love her unconditionally. You didn’t give up your girls,” Jenny stated.
“I know, but men are different and maybe he’ll come around and be there for her. I just can’t judge him.”
Six months later Cory and Edie parted ways with no fanfare and no regret on either part. He sold his old boat to Edie for enough money to drink for a couple of months and she was happy to have him out of her life and sure as shit she was off on her next adventure. And just like that…Cory was gone.