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“Family of my girlfriend. I just met them for the first time yesterday, but something told me they’d love a fishing trip.”
“Ah, okay. I wasn’t sure if you were family of the wedding party. So who is your girlfriend to the bride-to-be?”
“Sister,” I said. “And I guess this is the kind of small town where a wedding party coming is big news, huh?”
“You bet. People have been talking about it for weeks since they booked a venue here. We get a lot of weddings out in the farms because it’s pretty, but one this size is pretty unusual. I told my brother a couple of you guys are bound to fall in love with it here and move out yourselves. Think I’m right?”
I gave the scenery another scan with my eyes. “My girlfriend might,” I said. Calling Pearl my girlfriend sent a little thrill through me, which felt both hilarious and pathetic. I wasn’t sure I’d really referred to her as my girlfriend too many times, but I liked the way it rolled off my tongue. I liked thinking of her as mine. “She has been talking about wanting to leave Manhattan for somewhere quieter.”
“Don’t blame her,” Zack said, nodding as he fiddled with his fishing pole. “You going to follow her if she leaves?”
“Not sure,” I said.
“Damn. That’s pretty cold. How long have you two been together?”
“About six months. And it’s more that I don’t think she’d ask me to come if she left the city.”
Zack gave a slow, knowing nod. “Got it. It’s like that? Too bad, man. I had a girlfriend once who wanted to study culinary stuff in France for a summer. I offered to come and she said I was smothering her. I backed off, she went, and she ended up pregnant by some guy named Raphaël. So, take my advice. If your girl tries to tell you she just needs some space during the move, you walk away before you get burned. Because ‘space’ is code for dick. Someone else’s dick, that is.”
I chuckled. “You know, I think that might actually be true.”
“Damn right it is.”
“My last girl,” Curtis said suddenly. I hadn’t realized the brothers had waded closer to where Zack and I were standing. “She left me for her cousin. Ain't that some shit?”
“Second cousin, Curtis. Don’t go pepper sprayin’ the stereotype.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Pepper sprayin’ the stereotype?”
“Yeah,” Lane said, looking a little indignant. “Like when you do somethin’ that makes people keep thinking something.”
“I think he means perpetuate,” Zack said quietly in my ear.
I grinned. “Well, I’m sorry to hear about your girl.”
“Ah, it’s alright,” Curtis said. “I had eyes for her sister, anyway. Point is you can’t trust ‘em. Women are snakes. Beautiful, sexy snakes. Snakes you’d like to smooch and cuddle from time to time, but snakes you can’t trust when your eyes are closed. Hell, I wouldn’t trust a woman any more than a barbecue joint that don’t trim its brisket.”
“Shee,” Lane agreed with a solemn shake of his head.
“Don’t go actin’ like you know, Lane.” Curtis flashed a semi-toothed smile. “We all know what you and that goat were doing all last summer.”
I raised my eyebrows, hoping I was misunderstanding the implication.
“Y’all don’t know shit,” Lane said. “Least I ain’t popped one of my testies blowin’ up a lawnmower like some kind of dumbass.”
Curtis shot him a look and gave him a shove. “You ain’t supposed to talk about that in front of strangers.”
“And you ain’t supposed to bring up Greta.”
As weird as the conversation was, I was smiling and enjoying the hell out of my evening. This trip to Fairhope was one of the first real breaks I’d taken from my regular life in a long time. I could feel a sort of calming warmth rising up inside me day by day. This was the sort of stuff I’d been craving without realizing it. Some dumb guy talk. Some fishing, even if I wasn’t catching anything. It all felt good, and as the conversation dwindled except for the occasional fight between Curtis and Lane, my thoughts drifted along, just as lazily as the river water.
I thought about what kind of life I might want when I was older. Would I really be happy if I swore off relationships forever? No, I thought. And if I found the woman I wanted, wouldn’t I do anything to keep her? Yes.
I was done pretending I didn’t want Pearl like that. I did. I was ready to be a dumbass and put my heart on the line again. But the part I wasn’t ready for was trusting myself. I’d been the one to fuck things up just as often as it had gone the other way. I was the problem, even when it might’ve looked the other way around. I got bored. I stopped putting in the effort to be a good boyfriend. It shouldn’t have surprised me that the relationships always soured.
