Flynn coaxed me out of the house, got me to leave the comfort of that warm haven. On the weekends, he began taking me with him to the park basketball court, and I sat watching him play basketball with the other young men gathered. Other times he got me to play with him one on one. I hadn’t played basketball before I met him, but I enjoyed the game and I was pretty good at shooting baskets. I was good at shooting pool too, and we began spending some of our Saturday afternoons at Jake’s Place, the local pool hall. We also spent more time with the Peñas at their home. On Sunday mornings Flynn persuaded me to dress for church and he even went with me. On warmer weekend days we walked along the sands of Venice Beach. I didn’t swim, but Flynn did. Sometimes he stripped off his shirt and dove into the cold waiting water. He wanted me to go with him. He wanted to teach me, to make me unafraid of the water, but I wouldn’t go. Instead I sat on the beach and waited, watching his strokes, his perfect form. Once when he came out of the water, he plopped onto the sand beside me and, despite my objections, pulled me against his wet body and enveloped me in his arms. “Warm me up,” he said.
I laughed and tried to pull away.
“Un-unh,” he said. “I’m not letting you go. Ever.”
He kissed me.
I leaned my back against his chest and we gazed out at the azure sky against azure water. “Papá Miguel is thinking about getting a boat,” Flynn said. “A motorboat. Maybe I’ll go in with him to buy it. Maybe that way I can get you out onto the water.”
“You don’t have to buy a boat,” I said.
“I want you to sail with me. I want you to enjoy the water with me.”
“Okay, if Señor Peña buys a boat, I’ll sail with you. But I’m not going in the water.”
“I won’t let you drown. Trust me. I’ll always take care of you.”
I turned to face him. “I do trust you, Flynn. You’re my beautiful, absolutely gorgeous husband! You’re my love! Sweetheart, I trust you with all my being!” His lips were waiting, and as always I was drawn to kiss him. I closed up tight against him, my breasts against his chest. I put my arms over his shoulders and clasped my hands behind his neck and succumbed, kissing him long, then I pulled away and got up quickly from the sand. “But you’re not getting me in that water!”
Flynn too jumped up, and I ran away laughing. He caught me, picked me up, carried me to the water, and I screamed. “Don’t you throw me in there!”
He laughed. “I promise I won’t let you go.”
And he didn’t. He didn’t throw me in, but he carried me into the ocean until he was waist-deep and I was wet as well; then, laughing still, he brought me back to shore. I pretended to be angry. He pretended to care that I was. He put me down and we walked back to the car, drove back to our little house, and spent the rest of the day loving each other. We talked about having another baby.
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
Señor Peña bought the boat. I persuaded Flynn not to take on the debt, not right now with my not working. Despite that, we knew we were always welcome on the boat, and in April, during one of its early voyages, Flynn and I were on board, along with Jorge, Justine, and J.D., with Señor Peña at the helm. Señor Peña christened the boat for the second time in honor of Flynn and me, then we set sail on a crystal-clear Saturday morning.
“To mi amado hijo Flynn and his beautiful wife!” Señor Peña proclaimed, saluting us with morning champagne. “To them, the beauty of love and family!” He took my hands. “There will be a time for children, Cassie, the greatest blessings of life. In the meantime, just enjoy young love, being together, and then the children will come.” Now he laughed. Everyone on board did.
It was a glorious morning. The sky was clear, brilliant blue and cloudless. The waters were calm, and we sped far from shore before Señor Peña stopped the boat, threw down the anchor, and announced it was time for the fishing to begin. Fishing rods were in holders fixed to the stern, and Señor Peña insisted I take a rod and give it a try. I was feeling a bit queasy being on the water and I really didn’t want to stand near the boat’s edge with a fishing rod in hand, but I got up anyway and went over. I didn’t want to spoil the morning with my complaints. As I reached for the rod, Flynn, always so attuned to my feelings, met my eyes and said, “Cassie, are you all right?”
I managed a smile. “I’m fine.”
“How’s your stomach? First time on the water, you might feel sick.”
“I said I’m fine, Flynn. Now give me the rod.”
Flynn smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”
Flynn handed me the rod and I took it, expecting the feel of it to be the same as when I fished back home on the Rosa Lee, but the swaying of the waters gave it a different feel. I don’t know how long I stood there, just holding on to the rod, before Señor Peña advised me to sit in the chair in front of the holders, but to keep a steady hold. “Once you feel something tugging, that’s when you’ll need to jump into action. Then your work begins!” He laughed, and I sat down, waiting for a tug on the line.
While I waited, Flynn and Señor Peña and Jorge swapped stories about fishing in Mexico when Flynn and Jorge were growing up. Both of them had taken up rods and were waiting for a bite, but neither Justine nor J.D. wanted anything to do with fishing; they both felt seasick. I still felt the queasiness myself, but I fought it as I held on to the rod and the boat began to rock.
By now the weather was changing. The bright sunshine that had ushered us onto the water was gone, and dark, ominous clouds were gathering. A wind had kicked up and it looked as if it was going to storm. Señor Peña said that there had been no forecast for rain. It was supposed to be a sunshiny day, all day. He figured the clouds would pass. Yet still the clouds gathered and darkened.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Justine announced.
“Then stop drinking the damn champagne!” J.D. admonished.
“That’s the only thing keeping me from throwing up,” retorted Justine, and, champagne bottle in hand, went over to the side of the boat and leaned over.
“Don’t get so close, Justine,” Flynn warned.
“Oh, I’m all right. Just go on with your fishing.”
“Justine, you want a rod?” asked Señor Peña. “You want to give it a try now?”
“You kidding? Naw, I just want to get off this damn boat.”
Señor Peña chuckled. “That’ll be soon enough. The sun will come out soon and all this will pass. For now, just try to settle back and enjoy the water. You lie down there on the seat. You’ll feel just like a baby being rocked to sleep.”