That means leaving Chris at home for at least a few hours.
I considered picking up an ankle monitor for him, but who has that kind of money to throw around?
Right now, he’s sitting in his normal spot on the couch, this morning’s paper half-folded next to him.
“How are you doing today?” I ask.
“Don’t worry,” he says monotone. “I’m not going to rob Fort Knox while you’re out skinny dipping with your girlfriend.”
“I’m more worried about you scamming the neighbors and me being forced to move out of my home,” I tell him.
“Whatever,” he says.
I’d rather have him mad at me right now than spewing his usual nonsense about how I need to trust him, but I’m still nervous as I go to the kitchen to get some coffee.
My phone rings as I’m pouring and I answer it, saying, “Hey, Ash.”
“Hey,” she responds. “Are we still on for Lake Park today?”
“Yeah,” I tell her. “I’m just grabbing some coffee and I’m ready to go.”
“Okay,” she says with an audible exhale.
“You sound relieved,” I respond, smiling.
“It’s not you,” she says. “I just know how crazy things have been around there the last little bit.”
“Yeah,” I affirm. “Anyway, I should be ready to come pick you up in a minute, I’ll see you in ten.”
“Sounds great,” she says. “It’s supposed to stay pretty warm today, and I could really use some time out of the house.”
“How’s Jana’s eye?” I ask, trying to hold in my laughter, but not doing a very good job of it.
“It’s not funny,” Ash says, but from the tone in her voice, I can tell that she’s smiling. “I shouldn’t have done that. It was wrong.”
With that, I burst out laughing.
It’s not that she hurt someone or that that someone was Jana; Ash is usually such a pleasant person, though, I can’t even imagine her hauling off and punching someone in the face. It’s like if the Pope backhanded a bishop.
“Are you done?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I answer, still laughing as much as not. “I’ll see you in a few.”
* * *
Lake Park is exactly what it sounds like. I’ve been through here quite a few times throughout my life, but I’ve never approached the boat rental until today.
Now, sitting in the middle of the lake facing each other, only us and the guy running the boat rental shop in the park from what I can tell, I’m having trouble finding the right thing to say.
“Is this your first time boating?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Ash says and we resume our silence.
She told me she’d never been on a boat when we made the plans to come here, but I don’t know where else to go from here.
“I would have thought you’d have all sorts of yachting experience,” I tell her.
She smiles a little. She says, “My parents were more the private jet types.”
“Tell me about them,” I say. “It must be pretty unique growing up with them as your parents.”
“I don’t know if it’s unique,” she says. “It doesn’t feel that way to me. It’s what I’ve always known. There were a lot of things I found weren’t universal as I started growing up, though.”
“Yeah?” I ask. “Like what?”
Our first few hours completely alone in almost a week and we’re sitting here talking about her parents. This kind of talk is good for setting the groundwork for a relationship, but it’s not the kind of thing that’s going to bring back that chemistry that brought us together in the first place.
“Well,” she says, leaning back a little, holding onto the underside of her seat for support, “I remember being freaked out when I got to school and realized not everyone’s parents had a different luxury car for every day of the week. When I went home that night, I asked my parents if they could give some of their cars to the other kids’ parents. You can imagine how that went over.”
“When I was a kid, we almost never had a car,” I tell her. “When we did, we never had it very long before mom wrapped it around a light post.”
This isn’t the way to go and I know it. We should be talking about what we have in common, not the massive differences in our upbringings.
“How’s Chris doing?” she asks. “Do you think he’s going to clean up his act?”
“I don’t know,” I tell her. “If it’s all right with you, I’d rather not talk about Chris right now.”
“Oh,” she says, nodding. “All right.”
It shouldn’t be this hard.
“It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?” I ask, looking around.
“Yeah,” Ash says. “It’s really pretty out here.”
“It’s funny how this place has been sitting here all of both our lives and we’re both just seeing it for the first time,” I observe.
“Hey, Mason!” Ash says and I look back at her. She’s leaning over the side of the boat, looking into the water. “Come here and check this out. What kind of fish are these?”
I lean a little so I can see where she’s looking, but I can’t see any fish. It’s hard not to smile. I think I know what she has in mind.
“I can’t tell,” I answer. “What do they look like?”
“They’re pretty small,” she says, “but they’ve got all these bright colors. Like that one has a big green splotch on one side. Come over here and look at this.”
Yeah, it’s a trap.
Regardless, I slowly stand and step over to Ash, trying to keep the boat as steady as possible as I do.
“Careful,” she says. “We wouldn’t want you to fall in.”
“Where are they?” I ask as I get close enough.
“Right there,” she says, pointing. “They’re small, though. You have to get kind of close otherwise the tint of the water makes it so you can’t see them.”
Do I have my cellphone in my pocket? I give my pants a quick feel. Nope. Keys and money are either in the car or in the locker the boat rental guy let us stash our remaining valuables in, too.
“All right,” I answer, holding back a grin.
I lean over where she tells me to.
“Can you see them?” she asks. “They’re about six inches from the surface.”
“I don’t see—wait,” I tell her. “I think I do—”
And that’s when she does it. Ash simultaneously rocks the boat in the direction I’m leaning and, with her foot, she pushes me over the side of the boat.
The water’s cold, but not frigid, but that’s not my concern.
“Help!” I scream. “I can’t swim!”
“Oh my god!” Ash cries. “Grab my hand!”
My arms are flailing as I try to stay above the surface of the water, and Ash is reaching out for me, but the push out of the boat put me farther out than our arms reach.
“Mason!” she shouts, grabbing an oar and holding it out toward me.