33. I’ve Got a Woman to Go After
I’ve Got a Woman to Go After
MATTHEW
Despite the chill in the air, I’m sweating my ass off.
I unbutton the cuffs of my flannel and roll them up to my elbows, then toss off my hat.
I’ve put off winterizing the boat far longer than I should have.
I need to get the boat out of the water and into the storage center near the docks.
Luckily, I’m old hat at this. I've had plenty of practice scrubbing off the salt, topping off the fuel tanks, and removing the batteries.
This is usually a celebratory time. An initiation of rest and hibernation for the upcoming cold months. But after my boat was trashed, I had to grind even harder to make up for the financial loss. I’ve been fishing up until the very last moment I can.
From outside my covered spot, I hear Ian’s unmistakable boom, “About time you got her out of the water.”
I peek over the bow and give him a meek smile. “Hey, Ian.”
Ian walks closer to my boat and touches the side. “Damn, she sure shines, doesn’t she?”
“Yeah, wanted to make sure she was in perfect condition for next season,” I say before hefting myself over the side of the boat to the ground.
“Considering I’m probably going to be working seasons back-to-back.
” I grab a rag out of my back pocket and wipe my hands off, busying my attention so I don’t have to look Ian in the eye.
Of all the fishermen, he’s probably the one I’m least mad at.
Even though he’s been an innocent bystander in this mess, he’s a bystander, nonetheless.
Ian crosses his arms over his chest. “Been worried about you, kid.”
“I’ve been fine,” I reply, mirroring him.
“Sure, you have,” Ian says.
“I have.”
Ian clicks his tongue. “I’m going to take Gwen’s word on this one.”
I lean against the hull of my boat. “What’d she say?”
“That you’ve been struggling since Lillian left.”
I shove the rag back in my pocket. “That’s not why I’ve been struggling,” I say.
“You don’t need to pull the manly-man bullshit with me, Matt. I’m not your dad, huh?”
I press my lips together. I couldn’t give less of a shit about being a “manly man.” If I think about Lillian for too long, my chest starts to ache, and it puts me in a state I can’t get out of for days afterward.
“You cared for her. I know you did.”
“Yeah, well. People care for people. Nothing special about it.”
“Is that really how you feel?”
“Yep.”
Ian pauses, tipping his chin up and looking down his nose at me. “So, if Lillian heard you say there was ‘nothing special about it,’ you’d be okay with that?”
Well, shit, he has me there. I’m almost cornered but not quite. “She’s the one who left.”
“You can’t blame the girl, can you?”
“No, but I can blame her for not picking up the phone or answering my texts.” I’ve thrown my phone more times than I care to admit.
“You could go after her,” Ian says, waggling his eyebrows.
“Make a fool of myself by running to LA and having a door slammed in my face? No thanks. I’ve already had my ego bruised enough for one summer.” For one lifetime, really. “Besides, I have to get through the winter.” Ian nods quietly. I take that as a cue to go back to hanging nets.
Normally, I would hire out this task. My mother had a real knack for hanging nets, but I always found an excuse not to do it. This winter I’m doing it myself to save money.
It’s actually a very meditative process. The rhythm of sewing the lead lines to the bottom of the net, and the cork lines to the top. The movement is methodic and relaxing.
“You have to decide if it would be worth it, regardless of her answer.”
“Sorry?”
Ian clears his throat. “You have to decide if it’s worth the risk of looking foolish if you went after her to LA. And if it’s not, then you need to build a bridge and get over it. You know what I’m saying?”
I furrow my brow. “Ian, listen, I really don’t want?—”
“The whole reason I ended up in Naknek was because of a woman. You know that, don’t you?”
“Well, yeah, but . . .” It’s sort of a sad story, actually. No one mentions it for fear of making Ian get that far away, wistful look in his eye.
Ian opens his hands in front of him. “You think I regret it?”
“No,” I say immediately. “I mean . . .”
A wry smile appears on his lips. “Of course, you’d think that. I mean, I don’t blame anyone. I wouldn’t have settled here if it hadn’t been for her.”
The story is one that’s been passed around Naknek, but I only know bits and pieces of it. I’ve never heard it from Ian’s mouth directly because I assumed he didn’t like talking about it.
“I was only going to be in Naknek for one season. And then, I came back for another one, and another one, and you know what they say, third time’s a charm.” Ian hums. “Stuck around that time.”
I watch the older fisherman, his expression thoughtful as he remembers.
“If I’d stayed with her after that first summer, we would have had more time together. Maybe that would have changed the trajectory.” Ian lifts his hand. “You know the rest.”
Ian had fallen in love with a local woman, a widow whose husband had died out on the gulf.
She had two kids and worked at the cannery to make ends meet.
And then, after Ian decided to stay in Naknek for that fateful third fishing season, they lived together until her second child moved to college down in Washington.
Then, her heart gave out.
“I could have left Naknek right after she died, right? But I didn’t,” Ian continues. “I could have avoided being looked at by all those sympathetic faces if I had just left. But I fucking didn’t.”
“That’s different, Ian. You didn’t have any control over?—”
Ian laughs. “I’m trying to tell you that love isn’t without risk. It can hurt like hell, but . . . but I would have regretted not having those good years.”
“But you knew she loved you. I don’t know if?—”
“What do you know, Matt? What do you feel?”
I’m quiet. I’m not sure if I can say it aloud without feeling foolish.
“Sometimes loving something is going toward it. And sometimes love is letting it go. You need a little bit of both,” Ian says. “But if you lose it, it hurts like a bitch.”
I sigh. I know he’s right. The pain is proportional to how good it felt to be with Lillian. “I don’t want to spend my whole life thinking about her.”
“You won’t have to as long as you do everything in your power to fix things. Besides, if it does work out, then you’ll be happy to think about her the rest of your life.”
For a moment, I let myself forget how things fell apart. And I remember all those warm moments between us. Moments that made it easy for me to see a future with Lillian. I’d gladly spend all my days thinking of her, putting her first, and giving her my all.
But I can’t do that if I’m not actually with her. It would be horrible to pine for her the rest of my life without even trying. “You’re right.”
“I am,” Ian says.
I chuckle, rolling my eyes.
Ian backs away. “Anyway, good talk. I’ll see you soon, alright, Matty?”
He disappears out of my port, and I stand there, staring at the pile of net and cork line I’ve started to hang.
Damn the nets. I’ve got a woman to go after.
With my duffel thrown into the back of my truck, I pull into the Half-Hitch for a quick coffee before I head to the airport to fly to Anchorage.
Inside the café, I’m surprised to find Jesse at the counter quietly talking with Gwen. At first, they don’t notice I’m here, which is just as well. I don’t want to see Jesse.
I start to back out until I hear Gwen whisper, “Just go see him. He’ll listen.”
“He’ll try to start a fight again,” Jesse replies. “I need you to come with me, so he won’t?—”
“You’re the one who clocked him in the eye!” Gwen replies.
They’re talking about me. That much is obvious. Plenty of people have been talking about me since July. Since the second they found out I was taking Lillian out on my boat. Well, fuck it. I’m done running from it. “Ahem.”
Jesse whips around, and Gwen’s eyes widen at the sight of me. “Matt!” she exclaims. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m headed out of town and wanted to grab a coffee first.”
“Out of town?” Gwen tries to smile, but her eyes are still wide, darting from me to Jesse and back again. “I didn’t know you had to travel.”
I stare at Jesse. He won’t look at me. It’s for the best because I’m like a dog right now. If he looks me in the eye, I’ll attack. “Spur of the moment trip.”
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“LA.”
Jesse’s head shoots up. “LA?”
I go up to the counter, keeping a few feet away from Jesse as I dig in my pocket for my wallet. “Going after Lillian.”
“Took you long enough!” Gwen says.
“Yeah, well?—
Jesse cuts me off. “I didn’t know you were still talking to her.”
“I’m not,” I say pointedly. “She won’t take my calls.”
Jesse scratches his cheek. “Matt, I?—”
“Coffee to go. Gwen, would you?” I ask, putting some cash on the bar.
Gwen takes the money, throwing Jesse a nervous smile before grabbing the coffee pot.
I drum my fingers on the counter as I wait.
“You’re really going to LA?” asks Jesse.
“Yep.”
We’re silent again. Gwen returns with my coffee.
“I’ll leave you guys alone,” she whispers.
“No need.” I pick up the cup and give her a small wave. “I’m off.”
I turn to go.
“Matt,” Jesse calls out after me. “Wait.”
I stop. I don’t know why I stop. I want to keep going and get my plane in the air. Because the sooner I get to Anchorage, the sooner I can catch a flight to LA. “I have to get going, Jess.”
“Just give me a minute,” he says, coming over to me. “Just one.”
I hold back a growl from my throat.
My brother approaches me, for the first time in a long time, with hesitation.
“I, uh, I’m sorry,” Jesse says.
“For what?” I ask. I’m going to drag this out as long as I can.
“For . . . well, you know.”
I stare at him expectantly.
“Jesse!” Gwen calls out from behind the counter. “Be specific.”
Our younger brother rolls his eyes but nods. He knows what he has to do. “Look, I let Dad get in my head. I mean, it was such a group mentality by that point; it was easy to get caught up in it. I shouldn’t have . . . well, shouldn’t have done any of it, but especially the cabin. That was?—”
“All of it was you? The tires, the message on the car? The?—”
“They weren’t all my idea!” he says in defense.
“But I thought if I did it instead of someone else, then at least no one would get hurt. I mean, you know how some of these guys are. They barely have two brain cells to rub together after drinking,” Jesse says.
“I didn’t want Lillian to get hurt. That wasn’t the point. ”
I shake my head in disbelief. “I’m your brother, Jesse.”
“And that’s why I did it. I mean, that’s why I told myself I was doing it. Protecting you from yourself. From her.”
I want to be angry, but the pain in my chest just makes me sad.
“I could just see her breaking your heart, and you don’t deserve that, Matt,” Jesse says, voice trembling.
I never knew he could be so emotional, especially over relationships.
“I saw you getting your hopes up over her. And if you had gotten the rug pulled out from under you, I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself for not doing something. ”
“You made her think I’m a monster,” I say, scratching at my beard.
Jesse sighs. “Yeah, I’m sorry.”
“So, what’s changed?” I ask. “You hate her, and you hated me with her, so?—”
“I never hated her.”
I snort. “Yeah, right.”
“I didn’t! Not the way you think I did. I just wanted . . . to keep things the same. I thought I was protecting you. But I was just protecting me and being a jerk.”
As I stare into my brother’s eyes, I see the little boy he once was. How much he needed me before he got bigger, taller than me. Before he hardened to the world. “I’m still your brother, Jesse. You’re not going to lose that. But if you’d just given her a chance, a real one, then?—”
“I know that. Now.” Jesse diverts his attention to the tips of his shoes. “Gwen made me talk to someone.”
I frown. “Talk to someone?”
“A therapist,” Gwen says from her place outside the conversation.
Jesse’s cheeks go red. “Yeah, one of those online things. She thinks I have anger management issues.”
“Gwen or the therapist?”
“Both,” Gwen answers for Jesse.
Jesse glares at her. “Hey!”
She merely smiles. Sister knows best.
“Why are you so angry, man?” I ask.
Jesse looks down. He seems tired. Tired of himself. I know that feeling. “I don’t know. I think it’s genetic. Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, right?”
I narrow my eyes.
“But, um, that’s an excuse. Or, so I’ve been told by my therapist,” Jesse says, then scratches the back of his head.
“I think it started when we lost mom. You and Gwen always seemed to be able to handle it. But I just . . . I’ve never known how to talk about it.
Thought if I was quiet about it, it might go away. ”
“But it didn’t.”
Jesse shakes his head. “No.”
Part of me wants to give my brother a hug, but I’m not ready to be so close to him. I put my hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be bitter like dad, okay?”
“I’m trying.”
I rub his arm. “I know you are.”
For a moment, I think he might burst into tears. However, he swallows the swell of emotion down. “Anyway, I don’t suppose you might be able to forgive me.”
“Someday.”
“Yeah, someday,” he says, clearly disappointed.
I hold out my hand to him. A truce. Jesse takes it, and we shake. There’s a lot we have to recover from, but we’re brothers. A lifetime of distance isn’t in the cards.
Jesse shakes my hand and smiles.
“Okay, I’ve got to head out,” I say. “I want to be in the air before it gets dark, and?—”
Jesse holds onto my hand, keeping me from leaving. “Okay, but you’re going to fly to LA and do what? Search for her high and low until you find her like a creep? Go to her office or something?”
I have tried to avoid thinking about the logistics, but he’s right. I might scare her if I just . . . show up. “You have a better idea?”
“I do. But you have to give me your phone.”
I look at Gwen. She shrugs. What have I got to lose?
I’ve already lost Lillian. I thought I lost Jesse too.
Maybe I can give him a chance to repent.
I pull my phone out of the inside pocket of my jacket.
“You’re not going to make things worse, are you?
Because if you do something stupid, I swear to God?—”
Jesse pulls out his phone too. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll let you have a clear shot to the face, how about it?”
I smile despite myself. “That’s a fair trade.”
Jesse smiles back and sits down at one of the tables. He taps on my phone for a few moments before typing something out on his.