wrinkled skin at the corner of his eyes and mouth. She wants to be able to love this man as a
separate entity from the one she grew up with.
“We should go fishing again when we get back,” shesays.
“You sure?” His brow furrows but she can tell he’sexcited.
This time the planks beneath them are warm and theycan see a few people swimming
maybe a half-mile up the river, and the sun bakestheir cheeks so they’ll both have browner
freckles by the end of the day. They brought the radiowhich plays “Piano Man” and they sing
along unabashedly, even if it’ll scare off the fish.If Jo were here, she would sing loud enough the
people down the river would hear, and would catcha fish every now and then, unlike Irene and
her father. The thought crosses Irene’s mind thatJo and her father might get along. When
commercials come on the radio, she turns the volumedown, elbows her father in his side and
asks “Do you still think being gay is a sin?” Shecracks a grin as if she’s not serious.
He doesn’t laugh or smile back. He glances at thewedding ring on her finger then to her
face.
“I think you’re the best thing I’ve ever done inmy life, and there is not one part of you
that I’m not proud of.”
Irene feels as if the wind has been knocked out ofher.
“She didn’t really have work this weekend,” he says.
“No. She wanted to come, though. I asked her notto.”
Then for the first time, there is a sharp tug on herrod and they clamber to reel it in.
