Chapter 10
Cry Me a River Runs Through It
TRE
“Fiona, what happened? What’s wrong?”
She doesn’t answer. Her back stays turned to me while she’s bent over the desk, flipping between drawings and papers.
I don’t understand what the hell just happened.
I couldn’t believe it when she actually kissed me, and then it was so hot every thought left my head except to have more of her.
Did she not want me to touch her? She kissed me, though! Did I escalate too soon?
Goddamn, that was intense. My dick throbs with the sting of being this hard but having no release. I reach down and tug my pants to get a little relief. I can’t stop staring at her bent-over ass, and it throbs again.
I turn around to avoid making things worse, but that means I see Eddie finishing as his date screams his name. Shit! I grimace and writhe my hips in frustration.
I decide it’s safest to keep watch out the window because at least that won’t cause more problems with Fiona.
“They’re, uh, done. They’re kind of hanging out now.”
“I don’t care what they’re doing. Just tell me when they’re gone,” Fiona responds curtly.
A few awkward minutes pass as they lie on the picnic blanket together. Finally, they pack everything up, get in the truck, and pull away. I duck below the window when the headlights shine over the trailer as the truck leaves.
“Okay, we’re clear. Let’s scan those blueprints and get the hell out of here.” By the time I turn around, she’s already lining up her phone over the desk. I wince as a flash illuminates the trailer. Before my vision adjusts, her phone flashes again.
I look back out the window until Fiona’s done. At least one of us should have some night vision. The walls around me reflect light a few more times, then she says, “I’m done. Time to go.”
I raise the blinds and slide the window open. “When you come out, do it feet first. I’ll grab you.”
“When I come out, you’ll move out of my way. You won’t be grabbing anything.”
Her words sting, but I remind her, “The screen is down there. You’ll need to replace it.”
“Fine. Hurry up.”
It only takes a moment to lower myself down from the windowsill and collect the screen. “Ready!” I say.
Fiona’s feet swing over the side of the trailer, and I catch them, bracing her against my chest as I lean sideways to grab the screen, then lift it up to her. She clicks it back in place.
“That’s it, set me down.”
I release her, and she drops the last few feet. She wobbles, and I grab her by the shoulders. We both freeze. Fiona recovers first, half turning to shove her shoulder into my chest, forcing me back a couple of steps.
“Don’t touch me,” she snaps. “Let’s get out of here before something else goes wrong.” She turns and strides directly to the tree line.
I follow, wondering how her hair can still smell nice after hiking five miles.
“I’m heading upstream. I can feel them on the other bank,” Jordan calls, pointing toward a tree overhanging the river about fifty yards away.
“Alright man. It’s not gonna help ’til you learn how to cast, but good luck.”
“Screw you, Tre. I’m winning today!” he fires back, then wades to his new spot.
Ewan and I slowly make our way downstream, sticking to the shallows on the west bank.
I begin casting across the water, but I’m not really expecting to catch much this morning. After a minute, I notice Ewan isn’t near me anymore. When I turn, he’s struggling to make sense of his rod and reel.
“What are you doing?”
“Something’s wrong with this pole. It’s not working right.”
I close the distance between us as I say, “Let me see.” Before he even hands it over, I spot the issue. “Ewan, why did you bring a spinning rig?”
“I don’t know. I just grabbed the first one I saw lying around at camp. I assumed people had gear that worked. Why, what’s the problem?”
I burst out laughing so hard I can’t answer.
After a few moments, where Ewan’s face gets progressively redder, I explain.
“Nothing’s wrong with the equipment. It’s built for a different type of fishing, genius.
You can’t cast a spinning rod like you’re fly fishing.
You work the river every year. How do you not know this? ”
“Whatever, man. I don’t come out here for the fish, anyway. It’s a peaceful way to meditate on the water.”
“Mmm, very wise. Also, a very convenient way to justify why you won’t draw first blood.”
“What are you using, if you’re such an expert?” Ewan questions.
“The same fly rod as always. Jerry gave me a few lures that haven’t been selling for him.”
“Failed hand-me-downs? Sounds like neither of us is going to win today,” he quips, and I shrug. “So how the hell do I do this one, then?”
“You picked it, you’ve gotta figure it out. Just try not to hook me while you do.” I grin.
“Ha, ha. Thanks for nothing.”
We space ourselves out again and spend the next few minutes silently fishing. Or at least our facsimile of it.
My hands go through the motions on autopilot while my mind wanders.
Just like every other free moment over the past three days, my thoughts return to the trailer.
To Fiona as she enjoyed watching Eddie with his date.
To the soft, smooth skin under my fingers as I ran them over her back.
To the shock of her actually kissing me.
To the press of her body against mine. To the throbbing ache of desire.
Damn it. I glance down, suddenly grateful to be standing in hip-deep water with bulky waders on. Well, no sense waiting any longer, I think, looking around for Ewan.
He’s resorted to simply throwing his hook forward weakly and tugging at it. He appears unconcerned with his ineffectiveness.
I wade over to his side. “So, look. I tried. What you said, you know. Talking to your sister.”
“Really? How’d that go?”
“I don’t know. Not great. She’s incredibly confusing.
I tried making peace, right? I realize you can’t exactly flip a switch on something like that, but it’s a lot harder than I expected, and I’m not sure why.
We got to where she’d start being civil, but then she’d randomly go back to being mean.
We almost started acting like normal people, and then suddenly she’s fighting with me again.
I don’t get it.” I lapse into silence, hoping he’ll know what Fiona’s deal is.
Neither of us is even pretending to cast anymore.
Ewan sighs. “It’s our mom.”
“What? What about your mom?”
“Fiona holds a grudge, apparently for life, for what you said back in high school when our mom died.”
I stare at him slack-jawed for a moment. “What the hell are you talking about? When did I say anything about your mom?”
“Do you remember when she died?”
“Sophomore year, right?”
Ewan nods. “It was the week before Christmas when her car crashed. Basically, right after winter break started. Obviously, we were still messed up for a while, so we didn’t come back to school right away in January.
About a week into the next semester, our dad finally made us.
It was a rough day. People were trying to be nice, but in reality they kept reminding us she was dead.
Even when they weren’t actively talking about it, they were giving us pitying looks. At least, that’s what it felt like.”
Ice runs down my spine, despite not knowing where this is going.
“Fi and I ended up leaving the lunchroom because it was way too much. We were sitting in an alcove down the hall by ourselves most of that hour, but before everyone started going back to class, you and a few of your preppy friends walked by. You were telling them how you heard our mom’s death wasn’t an accident.
That she was depressed and hated being stuck with her family so much, she drove off the mountain to kill herself.
To get away from us.” Ewan finally turns his face from the water to look me in the eyes.
Fuck. I try to hold his gaze, but I have to look away from the raw emotion on his face. I want to ask him if he’s sure it was me or if he heard it right, but I don’t waste the breath. There’s no doubt in his eyes.
“Shit, man. I don’t remember that at all.
” I pause. I’m at a loss. There’s nothing I can say that will matter at all.
Nothing is sufficient to make up for that kind of cruelty.
“I’m so sorry. I understand that doesn’t make anything better, especially after all this time.
I know I was a dick when we were younger, but I didn’t think I was that terrible. That casually mean for no reason.”
Ewan turns his attention back to his rod and reel, pointlessly tossing his hook for something to do.
“I hope you know that I know that’s not true.
I’d never even think something like that now.
I bet I heard it from my mom. She’s vicious, pretty much for fun most of the time.
I didn’t understand that then, and I was an idiot.
I’ve been distancing myself from that family for the last decade, Ewan.
You know me,” I say, but it still doesn’t feel like enough of an apology.
“Yeah, I do, Tre. That’s why we’re friends now. And why I’ve tried to get Fi to get to know you.”
“Damn. This explains so much. Well, crap…” I trail off as I recall my interactions with Fiona, not only from the last five months but during school too.
How can I explain things to her? We’re not supposed to talk until my appointment at the clinic next Wednesday. I could try to apologize then. But should I dredge up that kind of hurt at her job? No, that’d be even more fucked up.
She’s going to come get coffee every day believing I’m an asshole, but there’s no way we can have this talk at Betty’s.
Maybe after we’re done at Hay Creek. She’ll be too focused at first, and we really don’t have much time to get everything done. Yeah, when we get away from the site we’ll be riding high. I’ll explain before she decides we can never be seen talking again.
“Woo hoo! Got one, boys! First blood to Jordan.”
We both spin around at the shouting. Jordan is holding his rod overhead in one hand, with a trout wriggling in the other.
Ewan moves first, walking upstream while hooking his line to his rod. Apparently, he’s given up trying to fish for the morning. “Nice. What is that, a fourteen-, fifteen-incher?”
“Hell yeah! I’m eating good today. Isn’t that right, Tre?”
“Yeah, bud. You won, so I’m cooking,” I call back, wading across to try my luck near the far bank. “Let’s see if I can match you.”