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“But,” she says as we stop near Rachel the Pig, a giant bronze piggy bank. We each drop in a few bills for the market foundation, and Sutton pats the pig’s head for good measure. “If they happen to recognize one of us andaskif we’d like to catch a fish, I’m not saying no.”
There’s a young woman behind the counter, dressed in hip waders, who keeps eyeing me and Sutton as we wander thestall looking at the fish they have on offer, and chatting with patrons and employees. When we approach her, she rests her forearms on the counter and leans over it as much as she can.
“Sutton Davis?” She asks, eyes a little shifty as she looks from Sutton to me and back again. “Is that you?”
“Lizzy?” Sutton asks, and I notice that the young woman’s name tag readsElizabeth.
“Sutton!” Elizabeth, Lizzy, comes around the counter and the two throw their arms around each other. “It’s been, what? Ten years?”
“I think so,” Sutton laughs, pulling away but still grasping Elizabeth’s forearms. “How’ve you been?”
“Good. After graduation I moved back here and went into the family business. And I’ve been keeping an eye on you, what a playoff run last year!”
“Thanks, Liz,” Sutton is beaming, but her smile softens into something filled with fondness and nostalgia. And when her eyes flick to mine, I don’t miss the fire burning in her gaze.October.“It was pretty great.”
“The suspension is a load of crap.”
“It’s been an adjustment,” Sutton smirks. “This is Max, by the way.”
“I thought so. Nice to meet you Max. You can call me Liz.” Elizabeth smiles at me and waves us both closer to the counter. “Do you guys want to catch some fish?”
“I don’t.” Taking a step back from the two of them, I hold my hands up in front of me. I don’t do fish. Or anything with scales for that matter. Cats are my speed. Maybe dogs. I will not touch a fish. Unless it's already been filleted, or breaded and served with fries on the side. “But Sutton does.”
“Well, come on then.” Liz slings an arm around Sutton’s shoulders and positions her in the spot where she’ll be catching the fish.
“We’ve got a catcher!” Liz shouts to the men behind the counter.
“Actually, I played third base,” Sutton quips, sharing a laugh with Liz, who gives her a crash course on fish handling. I step back with my phone camera ready for pictures. “And if I remember correctly, you and I were a pretty formidable five-three battery on the field. Maybe we need to switch places.”
“Catch one first,” Liz calls, “and thenmaybewe’ll talk about you throwing one.”
Sutton sets up in the stance that Liz showed her, hands at the ready and after a quick countdown, a fish flies through the air and right into Sutton’s hands. She laughs, eyes lighting up as she hoists the fish over her head in celebration. I snap pictures, and when her eyes meet mine, I lower the camera and wink in her direction. Her cheeks turn the most adorable shade of pink.
“Are you sure you don’t want to give it a try?” She asks, wiggling the fish in my direction, but keeping a respectful distance.
“Positive.” I slip my phone back into my pocket when I notice people around us pointing and whispering. Catching a fish in the middle of a public market isn’t exactly inconspicuous, and as Sutton trades Liz the fish for a towel, I bend close to her ear with a whisper. “I don’t want to be the one to burst the bubble, but it looks like we’re being noticed.”
“I can create a diversion,” Liz offers. “There’s always a tourist that wants to catch a fish. And I have a good eye for the ones that can’t. You two can sneak away.”
Sutton hugs her old friend and thanks her for the experience before grabbing my hand and weaving us through the crowds of people, and away from the crowded coffee shop nearby. Sutton ducks into a small, less crowded cafe and pulls me in behind her. While we wait, I show Sutton the photos Igot at the fish market, and she scrolls through social media looking for any mention of either of us and is satisfied when nothing shows up.
“That was fun,” Sutton leans against me while we wait, “sorry we had to make a quick exit.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. What do you say we continue this date day someplace a little less…crowded?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“I have a plan.”
We accept our coffees from the barista and take them with us outside into the rare warm, late April day, enjoying the sunshine as we get away from the crush of people. It’s a short walk from the market to the Seattle Aquarium. If I thought Sutton in a museum was an experience, the aquarium is a different story altogether. There are less plaques to read, which she doesn’t seem to mind because she knows everything that she sees.
I ask questions and Sutton has answers for all of them. She answers with such confidence that I don’t question her, but part of me wonders how. How does she speak with so much authority on everything we’ve seen so far?
“Sutton?” We’re standing in front of the jellyfish exhibit and she’s explaining something to me about their symmetry, and the fact that jellyfish are the largest type of plankton on earth – which is news to me – and I’m looking around for where she’s getting this information but it’s nowhere to be found. “How do you know all of this?”
“I have a bachelor’s degree in marine biology.” Her answer is nonchalant, as if she’s just said the sky is blue, and she’s back to talking about the jellyfish. Particularly the differences in the types of jellies housed here in the aquarium, as she points from one tank to the next.
“You mean to tell me, all this time we’ve known each other, I didn’t know that you have a degree inmarine biology?”
