Read Anchor of Hope Page 8


  Chapter 8

  Most of the swimmers had left by the time Ashley and Jay found a spot at the end of the jetty to fish from. There were still a few boats out on the water, which looked as though they had a similar idea. Ashley could see their fishing rods sticking up in the air.

  “Do you always carry around fishing gear in your truck?” she asked.

  Jay nodded. “I do, actually. Whenever I finish work early I like to go for a fish, and a swim too, if it’s hot. It’s nice out here. Just the silence, no one around. The fish usually start jumping as the sun sets, which shouldn’t be too far off.” He cast a quick glance at his wristwatch.

  He kneeled down on the jetty and began attaching a colorful lure to Ashley’s rod. He handed it to her.

  “Do you know how to cast it out?” He kneeled down to find himself a suitable lure from his tackle box.

  “Yes. Dad used to take me fishing all the time when I was younger.”

  She drew the rod back and propelled it forward in one quick movement. The lure shot up in the air and clunked directly below her, hitting the jetty. She hadn't released the bale-arm on the spool. Jay kept a serious face, making a concerted effort not to embarrass her for her simple mistake. He rubbed the back of his neck rising to his feet.

  “You, uh, forget to flick the—”

  “I know, I know.” Ashley tried not to let her embarrassment show “But so you know, I didn't forget it, I was having a practice swing.”

  “Swing?” Jay asked, he stifled a laugh.

  “OK, I might be a little out of practice. I don't go fishing that much in the city.” Ashley laughed, embarrassed

  “May I help you?” Jay asked, holding out his hands.

  She nodded. At first she thought he might come up behind her, wrap his arms around her and gently guide her hands, like they always seemed to do in the movies.

  But he didn’t.

  He simply stood beside her and took her right hand, moving it towards the spool.

  “Here,” he said. “You need to flip the bale-arm over, when you cast–not swing—it out.” He pressed the line along the rod with one finger and flipped the bale-arm to demonstrate. “After you’ve cast it, you flip it back, like that.” He flipped it back over, securing the line.

  He met Ashley’s eyes, questioning to see if she understood.

  She nodded, feeling aware of his presence.

  He was much taller than her and about twice as wide.

  He smiled. “Good.” He released the rod and went back to attaching a lure onto his fishing rod.

  Ashley cast out her rod, this time successfully. “Ha! I did it!”

  Jay chuckled. “Just like riding a bike.”

  “I don't think that expression is true, you know. I tried to ride Mom’s bike the other day and was completely uncoordinated, I hit a tree. I’m glad no one was there to see me,” Ashley said, her back turned towards Jay as she slowly reeled her line in.

  “You hit a tree?” He laughed.

  “Well, it was more like a bush—and I half hit it, half fell into it.”

  He laughed again, and although she couldn't see his face from behind her she could tell he found her unfortunate experience entertaining. She heard the zing as he cast his line out behind her on the opposite side of the jetty.

  “I can't believe I forgot the . . . little flipper thing-”

  “Bale-arm,” Jay offered.

  “Bale-arm,” she repeated. “After all the time I spent fishing with Dad, you’d think I’d remember something so simple. He’d be ashamed if he saw me now.” She gave a small laugh.

  “No, he wouldn’t.” Jay's voice was serious.

  With their backs turned towards one another it was impossible to read his expression.

  “Do you miss him?” Jay asked.

  “Yeah, I do. Every day.” Ashley cast out her line again. Another successful cast. “I miss his jokes. He had a way of lightening every situation. You know what I mean? Like whenever I was freaking out about something, he’d help me to see the bigger picture and realize that no problem was too big. If that makes sense?”

  Jay cast his line out again. “Yep.”

  Ashley turned her head, hoping to get an idea of what he was thinking. The sun was beginning to drop below the trees up on the hill tops and the sky turned a brilliant shade of fluorescent orange.

  “Do you miss your mom?” Ashley had never asked him that before. Not in the whole nineteen years they had spent growing up together.

  “Not really,” he replied, much to Ashley’s surprise. “I wish I did, though. I never knew her. I was only three when she died, so I have no real memory of her. I have her photos, so I know what she looks like, but I can't remember what she was like, her personality. Dad said she was always singing and dancing, but I can't remember any of that.”

  His mother had died in a car accident, hit by a drunk driver while travelling home one night after attending a wedding. Jay had been staying at his grandparents’ house. She died instantly. Sam had spent a long, painful time in hospital. He had so many broken bones doctors told him it was unlikely he would ever be able to walk again without assistance, but he did.

  “Well, from what your dad has said about her, she sounded wonderful. She was really beautiful.” Ashley remembered the photos she had seen in the past.

  Jay was silent and she guessed he didn't want to talk about it. Strong and silent, that was him.

  Suddenly her line began to spin. “I've got something!” she squealed.

  Jay looked over, smiling. “Pull it in!”

  She reeled her line in and there on the end of her line was a bass. A very small bass.

  Jay stood beside her, ready to assist her if she needed help. Which she would, because she wasn't quite prepared to touch the slimy, flapping fish. But as she lifted the rod, pulling the fish out of the water, it slipped off the hook and disappeared beneath the surface.

  “Aww, I nearly had him.” Ashley frowned.

  “Almost, but he was too small to keep anyway.” Jay kneeled down behind Ashley to change his lure. “Keep trying.”

  “Oh I will—the next one will be a big one, just wait and see. They don't call me the champ for nothing!” She grinned confidently and turned to cast off. She flipped the bale-arm over, pulled back and used all her might to propel the rod forward.

  Something went wrong.

  She heard a sudden sharp intake of breath from Jay and after a moment of pondering why she couldn't see where her lure had landed, she cast a quick glance back at Jay who had his hands clasped to the side of his neck and was gritting his teeth in pain.

  “Oh my gosh!” Her hand shot up to her mouth and she went to help him. The hook had caught him right on the side of his neck.

  “I'm so sorry!”

  He gritted his teeth and using both hands—one to hold the skin taught and the other to grasp the hook—he pulled it out. It had only made a small puncture, but Ashley felt horrible.

  “Are you OK? I’m so sorry!”

  He pressed his fingers to the wound to try to stop the bleeding.

  Ashley looked in his tackle box and found a few Band-Aids which she pulled out.

  “Here, move your hand.”

  He moved his hand away and she could clearly see the two small holes—one where the hook went in and another close by where it had come out.

  “Are you all right, Jay? You haven’t said anything. Are you mad? I can't believe I did that. I'm such an idiot.” As she raised her eyes to look at his face she could see he was smiling down at her, and she couldn't help but smile back.

  “I’m fine. It’ll get better. I don't know about your fishing skills though.”

  She laughed and wiped the blood from beside the wound so she could stick the Band-Aid on.

  “How does that feel? Should we go to the hospital?” she asked.

  “Ashley, relax. I'm fine. Really.”

  “I feel terrible. You kindly invite me to share in your fishing experience a
nd I try to kill you . . .” She ran her hand through her hair. He placed both of his hands on her shoulders to steady her, forcing her to look at him. His hands were warm and secure.

  Great. Another scar to add to his collection. The silvery line running through his right eyebrow was still visible from the dirt bike accident he had had when he was only fourteen. She was almost tempted to ask him about the more recent scar on his rib but decided not to pry.

  “I'm fine.”

  She took a deep breath and looked at him apologetically. “OK, if you're sure. We can go home now if you want.”

  “Now? This is the best time for fishing.” He released her and waved his hand through the air. The sun had disappeared below the horizon and the sky behind them had turned a dark grayish-blue color, merging into pink. The almost-full moon was beginning to get brighter and there were even one or two stars that had become visible.

  A splash caught her attention. Glancing out over the water, she saw ripples moving in a circular pattern.

  “Was that a fish?”

  Jay nodded.

  Then she saw a fish jump. It was a silvery color. Then another, and another.

  “Ha! That is so cool.” Her mouth dropped open.

  Jay picked up his fishing rod and cast it out.

  Ashley picked up her rod too. Jay gave her a suspicious glance and jokingly took a few steps away from her.

  She cast it out and smiled in triumph.

  This time it was Jay’s reel that spun fast. He pulled in a trout, but it was too small, so he released it. After a few more minutes he caught another one. This was a good-sized trout, it would make a decent meal.

  “Are you going to let it go?” Ashley asked as he kneeled on the jetty and removed the hook from its mouth.

  “I wasn’t going to. Why?”

  “It looks so sad. I feel sorry for it.” She pouted.

  He paused for a moment. “Tell you what. If you're willing to pick it up, I'll let you release it.”

  Ashley cringed. It looked slimy and stinky, and the way it was flipping back and forth on the jetty made her feel uneasy.

  “OK,” she said, rubbing her hands together. She let out an audible breath through rounded lips, as though preparing for some mammoth task.

  Jay laughed as she attempted to pick it up by the tail using her thumb and forefinger. That turned out to be impossible, as its tail swished backwards and forwards and was far too slippery. She took a deep breath and using both hands grabbed it firmly around the midsection.

  “Ewww!” She held it over the water and gently let it go. After a brief pause it swam away. “Yay! Swim free, little buddy.” She held out her hands as if they were contaminated.

  Jay laughed and scratched the back of his neck again.

  “Well, there goes my dinner.” He looked out at the water.

  “What? Seriously? You shouldn’t have let me throw it back!” Now she felt guilty.

  “In all honesty, I didn’t think you'd have the guts to pick it up.” He laughed.

  “Gah! I’m sorry. I must be the worst fishing partner ever. I can try to catch you another one.” She went to reach for the rod.

  “No, it’s getting dark. I better get you home. Don’t worry about it at all. I’m sure I’ve got a potato or something at home I could eat. Maybe some stale bread.”

  “I feel bad now. Again,” Ashley said as Jay picked up the tackle box and his fishing rod. Benson had been sleeping at the entrance to the jetty, and now stood waiting for them as they made their way towards him.

  “I’m only joking, Ash,” Jay said. “I’m capable of cooking for myself. I’m glad you decided to stay.”

  “Even though I injured you and lost your dinner?” She raised her eyebrows.

  “Wouldn't be the worst injury I’ve had, or the biggest fish that got away.” He shot her a quick glance but she could barely make out his expression in the darkness.

  Was he referring to her? Had she injured him so badly when she left all those years ago?

  Was she the fish that got away?

  She was glad she had stayed too. The last thing she had imagined she would be doing during her short trip back to Sweet Home was spending time with her high school sweetheart. But that was then. Now they were just friends. Old friends, catching up and hanging out. Nothing serious. Totally innocent.

  He tossed the tackle box and rods into the back of his truck and Benson leapt in with ease. He opened the door for Ashley.

  “Are you sure you want to give me a lift back? It’s out of your way. I could call Mom or Martin to pick me up if that’s easier.”

  “Not at all. I don't mind.”

  She hopped into the truck.

  He came around the other side and climbed in. As he started the engine, Ashley noticed a small trickle of blood running down his neck. She pulled a tissue out of her purse and reached over to wipe the blood away. He mustn’t have been expecting it because as she touched his skin she felt him tense up.

  “You’re bleeding,” she said. She gently dabbed at the blood and held the tissue against the Band-Aid to stop the flow. He kept his eyes straight ahead, unmoving.

  “There.” She removed her hand. “I think that’s stopped it.”

  “Thank you.” His eyes quickly darted to hers then back onto the road.

  She stared him for a long time. His right hand was on the steering wheel and his left elbow rested on the window, allowing him to twist the side of his beard with his fingers. Even though the sun had been down for a while, the heat was still stifling.

  She couldn’t decide how much he had changed since she last saw him. He seemed the same, but different somehow. Maybe not so self-centred. Gentler. Still funny. He gave her another quick glance and smiled as he caught her looking.

  “What?” he asked.

  She panicked. She had been caught staring.

  She needed to think up an excuse.

  “I . . . uh . . . I like your beard.”

  I like your beard? Really? That's the best you could come up with?

  “It's very Mountain Man-ish.”

  “So, overall, you think it improves my face?” he asked.

  Was this a trick question? Was he asking her if she thought he was ugly so a beard to cover his face was an improvement, or was he simply asking if she liked his beard?

  “I like your face,” she said, then regretted it.

  He laughed, that great laugh where his eyes squinted and formed creases at the corners and his mouth opened wide in joy. Ashley laughed too.

  “What I mean to say is I think you'd look great with or without a beard. You have a nice face.”

  “Thank you,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road.

  “Would you ever shave it off?”

  “My face?”

  “Your beard.” Ashley was surprised at how easily their conversation had flowed. They hadn't spoken in almost eight years, yet it felt like yesterday that they were together laughing and joking.

  “Do you think I should?” he asked.

  “It’s up to you,” Ashley said. “Doesn’t it get hot in summer?”

  “Does yours?” He smirked and cocked one eyebrow.

  She swatted his arm. “I don’t have a beard!”

  “No, I know you don't have a beard. It’s more like a moustache and goatee.”

  He dodged as she tried to hit him again and laughed.

  She leaned towards the rear view mirror, tilting it to check her face, turning her head from side to side making him laugh even more. “I so don’t have facial hair.”

  “Of course you don’t. Don’t take things so seriously.”

  She tried to keep a straight face but found it difficult. He always had had a way of making her laugh and lightening any situation, and she couldn't help to admire that attribute. Her father had been like that too. It was good to be around someone with that trait, especially considering that she often thought of herself as being too uptight and reading too much into things.

/>   As they pulled up in front of Jane and Martin’s house, Jay put the truck into park and darted around to open her door for her.

  “Wow, you have changed.”

  He scratched the back of his neck again. A nervous habit?

  “Thanks for letting me come fishing. I had fun. Probably more fun than you.” She frowned as she glanced at the Band-Aid on his neck and reflecting on the unfortunate action of throwing away his dinner.

  “I doubt that, but you're welcome. It was good to see you again.” He placed his hands into his pockets.

  They stood there for a moment, in an awkward silence not knowing what to say or do.

  Should they hug, or shake hands? A high-five maybe?

  “I should probably let you go,” Jay stepped aside to let her pass.

  “Yeah, I should probably go.” Ashley smiled briefly and raised her eyebrows. “I'll see you around.”

  “Yeah, I'll see you on Saturday.”

  As she stepped past him, he grabbed her around the wrist and she felt her heart begin to race. His fingers were warm, and despite the summer heat she could feel the hairs on her arm prickle with goose bumps.

  “That’s not too weird, is it?” He frowned.

  She frowned too, unsure what he was talking about.

  “Me. Coming to your mom and Martin’s wedding? If you don't want me there, say the word and I won’t come.” His eyes searched hers and that deep furrow between his brows was back.

  “It’s not weird,” Ashley said. “I promise.” She made the sign of a cross over her heart. “You and Bryan are practically BFF’s, our dads were BFF’s and I know Mom would be disappointed if you didn’t come. Besides, we’re cool, aren't we?” She shrugged and gave a friendly smile.

  Jay nodded and let go of her wrist. She could still feel the warmth of his skin lingering on hers.

  “OK, but if at any time you change your mind, you tell me.”

  Ashley smiled. “I won’t change my mind.”

  “Still stubborn, I see.” Jay smirked as he backed away towards his car.

  “I prefer the term ‘determined’,” Ashley called as he got into his car and began to drive away.

  It wasn't until he had disappeared from view that she realized she had been gently rubbing her wrist where his hand had been.

  And that she hadn’t stopped smiling.