herout; she'd been shocked. She'd sputtered something about contacting him once she returned from her campingtrip. At the time, she hadn't really wanted to go. Now she wondered if it wasn't a good idea. Something to takeher mind off Jack and her feelings for him.
She snapped another picture and watched Jack through her lens as he returned to his fishing pole and picked itup. The sun glinted off the silver reel as the spool spun around and around. The movement of his hands andaims was smooth and precise, and his boots wet planted a shoulder's width apart. The CD player shut off andshe could hear the soft tick-tick-tick of his reel. Her heart picked up its soothing pace and she clicked his photo.
White sunlight poured over one side of him while the shade of his hat slashed across his nose and mouth. Hebrought in the line and reached up to pull a weed from the hook. Then in one fluid motion, he flipped the balewith his thumb, flung the tip of the pole straight out to his side, then whipped it forward again. His lure sailedacross the water as a breeze bowed the line, catching it on a current like a spider web, suspending it in air for afew short moments before the lure hit the water with a kerplunk and pulled the line down with it.
She lowered her camera and looked away. She couldn't hide behind her lens from either her feelings or his. Jackhated her, and he'd never forgive her. He'd made that perfectly clear. Around her, he was very guarded, and shedidn't even know why he'd asked her to come along on this fishing trip. He acted like she was a necessary evil,like bug spray. She was leaving at the end of the summer, and she probably wouldn't see him again until nextyear. There was no future for her and Jack, except that at some point she hoped it would be possible for them tobe friends again.
She wasn't going to hold her breath, though.
She was making a future for herself and Nathan a thousand or so miles away in Washington. She'd talked toNathan about selling their house, and he was okay with it. He'd been sad, like she was. The house held as manygood memories as bad, but he liked the idea of moving into a loft in Belltown even if it meant a change inschools. She'd already called a realtor, a friend of Junie's, and put the house on the market. Junie had always hadan extra key, so she arranged to give a copy to the realtor.
Daisy was definitely getting on with her life now. She'd never been on her own before. Never solely responsiblefor all decisions. She was scared. And if she thought about it too much, she got little anxiety attacks, but sheknew things would be okay.
It was well past noon and everyone was hungry by the time they made it back to camp. While the boys cleanedthe fish they'd caught, Daisy set the picnic table with a red-and-white checkered cloth and red plastic plates andutensils.
When she spoke with Jack the night before, she insisted that they split the meals. He was in charge of dinner.
She wondered if he'd pull out a package of hotdogs and a bag of chips and call it good.
She set a roasted chicken, salad, and a loaf of rye bread on the table. By the time she'd sliced the chicken andadded dried pieces of fruit and raspberry dressing to the salad, Nathan and Jack were walking from the shoretoward her. Nathan had put on his shirt and he carried his ball cap. His hair was sweaty and smashed to hishead. She couldn't help but notice that when Nathan forgot to act cool, he moved, a lot like Jack did. More easyand relaxed. Jack took off his sunglasses and brushed the side of his face against the shoulder of his lucky T- shirt - which had proved to be lucky once again, since he'd caught two smallmouth bass and a crappie.
'I'm going to change and be right back,' he said as he tossed his hat and glasses on the table. He moved towardthe four-man tent they'd pitched beneath a cottonwood tree. 'Watch out for faaar ants,' he warned, drawing outthe vowels. 'I saw a nest of 'em over by the toilets.' He grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled it over his headas he threw the tent flap back.
'Mom,' Nathan called to her.
Daisy pulled her gaze from the tent and the fleeting glimpse of Jack's bare back, the smooth planes and indentof his spine, the sliver of the white elastic just above the bluer waistband of his jeans...
'What's a faaar ant?' he asked just above a whisper 'Fire.' She chuckled and shook her head. 'Fire ant. Theyhave a nasty bite that burns.'
Nathan smiled. 'Well why didn't he just say fire?'
'He thinks he did.' She placed some chicken and salad on a plate and handed it to Nathan. She'd brought aThermos of ice tea, and she put ice in three red Dixie Cups and poured. 'Are you having a good lime?' sheasked her son.
Nathan sat and shrugged in that way of his that could have meant anything. 'I guess.' Then he grinned anddrawled like a Texan, 'I'm gonna catch my limit if it harelips the governor.'
'Just don't get bit by faaar ants,' she warned him.
Nathan tipped back his head and laughed a steady heh-heh-heh.
'What are y'all laughing about?' Jack asked as he walked toward them, closing the snaps on his shirt. It wasbeige, cowboy cut, with the arms hacked off.
'Nathan says he's going to catch his limit if it harelips the governor.'
Jack looked up and his green gaze touched Daisy's face from across the table. 'Damn straight.' He grabbed aplate and placed a few pieces of chicken on it. 'What is that?' he asked as he looked into the salad bowl.
'Salad.'
He scowled. 'It looks like chick food. Like flower petals, weeds, and leathery fruit chunks.'
Nathan laughed and Daisy frowned at him. 'It's very good.'
'I'm going to take your word on that.' He put three pieces of bread on his plate and then looked across the tableat her. 'Butter?'
'You still eat butter?' She hadn't used butter in so long, it hadn't occurred to her to pack any. 'I have creamcheese.'
He shook his head and walked away. He moved to the back of his truck, lowered the tailgate and rummagedaround in his cooler. When he returned, he had a stick of butter. He unwrapped the stick then set it on the table.
'You've been living up North too long, Daisy Lee.' He pulled a pocket knife out of his front pocket and madewafer-thin pats. 'Do you want some of this?' he asked Nathan.
Nathan nodded and Jack stabbed a few thin pats with the knife, then handed it over to him. Nathan laid them outon his rye bread and paused a moment to eye the knife before he handed it back.
'How about you, Daisy?'
'When was the last time you cleaned that knife?'
'Hmm.' He finally sat down and pretended to think a moment 'Last... no, the year before last. It was right afterI used it to gut an armadillo.'
Nathan laughed as he took a big bite of his bread.
She was sure he was lying. Well, almost sure. 'No thanks,' Daisy answered.
'Pansy-ass,' he said right before he sank his teeth into his bread covered in little squares of yellow butter.
She took a big bite of her salad. 'Scardy-cat. Afraid of a little arugula and raspberry dressing.'
'Hell, yeah,' he said as thin creases appeared in the corners of his green eyes. 'If a man eats stuff like that, thenext thing he knows, he's wearing pink and tying a sweater around his neck'
Nathan held up his hand and Jack gave him five.
'I thought you liked my raspberry salad.'
'No,' Nathan said. 'I'm hungry.'
Daisy didn't believe him. Jack was turning him into a traitor. A guy just like him.
'So what did you bring for dinner?' she asked.
Jack used his armadillo-gutting knife to cut his chicken. 'Wild rice.'
'That's it?'
'No, I brought some real lettuce and some bleu cheese dressing.'
'We're having wild rice and salad?'
He stared across the table at her as if she couldn't possibly be so dense. 'And the fish.'
'You were that sure you'd catch our dinner, that you didn't bring anything else?'
'Hell, yeah. I wore my lucky shirt.'
Daisy turned her attention to Nathan, who was highly amused.
Jack took a long drink of tea then set the glass on the table. 'I coat the fish in flour, then fly 'em up.'
