Page 136 of The Fishermen


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“Great,” I said, pressing my mouth to his skin. “So I’m part of the cub-club now.”

Franky laughed briefly, then turned earnest. “Seriously,” he said. “We can stay.”

“What if it takes years to resolve all the childhood shit I’ve kept bottled up? There’s the dead-beat dad shit to unpack too. What if I talk to Beatrice until I’m blue in the face, and still a few nights of peaceful sleep here and there is all I’ll ever get?” I knew I was being negative and impatient, but I didn’t want to resort to narcotics to get a decent eight hours of sleep, and I knew that was where I was headed. “What if nothing works, Franky?”

Franky looked out onto the water again, as if my answer waited there. “Then we’ll try something else.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“We’ll fish,” Franky said simply and shrugged.

My laugh rumbled through his chest where my lips were still pressed against him. “So we’ll be fishermen?That’swhat will cure me?”

“Yeah, why not?” he said, smiling at me. “It’ll be the cure for all the bad things life will throw at us, because there will be plenty. Nothing is ever perfect, Leland. But we can choose how we deal with it.”

“And we’re going to choose fishing?” I asked to be sure. “When life tosses us a curveball, we’re going to go fishing.”

“Yes,” he said.

“What will we do with them? We don’t even like fish,” I pointed out, even while the thought sent my heart crashing against its cage with a joy so potent it left me breathless. So long as I was with him I would do and try anything, because he made me believe anything was possible.

He hauled me higher up so he could look deeply into my eyes, the place where he would forever find all the love I held for him. “It’s okay,” he said, one corner of his mouth lifting. “I’ll teach you how to catch and release.”

The End

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