Page 25 of Back to Square One

“Looks like we have a little party this morning,” Lizzie said, clearly happy to see them. She craned her neck looking toward the house. “No Claire?”

Evie shook her head but said nothing, just took Lizzie’s offered hand and carefully stepped onto the boat. In a few minutes, the boat’s motor rumbled to life like a monster coming up from the depths of the lake. Stevie untied the ropes from the dock, hopped aboard, and they were off.

Lizzie pointed them toward the center of the lake, and they chugged slowly, which Rowan was glad about. It seemed like hitting the gas, making the boat go faster—and louder—would be obnoxious at this hour, and while there were a few other boats she could make out in the dim near-dawn light, they were all either anchored quietly or humming along at a slower pace than during the day. It must’ve been fisherman etiquette, she thought, to keep the noise to a minimum this early, and she was glad about that.

She and Evie both sat in the front seats on opposite sides, and Rowan couldn’t help herself. She pretended she was scanning the shore, looking at various houses that she couldn’t really see, but instead, she was looking at Evie. At her thick, dark hair—the length of which Rowan was still getting used to, though the style really suited her. At her figure, clad in comfy clothes, and Rowan had a quick flash of Evie’s legs wrapped around her waist, her head thrown back, and it made her swallow hard. At her shoulders, again. Just like when she went skinny-dipping last night, Rowan could almost feel the muscles of Evie’s shoulders as her fingers dug into them.

A clearing of a throat came from behind her, and she turned to meet Stevie’s eyes through the tiny windscreen. Eyebrows rose in question, and Rowan could hear Stevie in her head. Um, what are you doing? Stop staring at her.

She frowned and gave a subtle nod, then forced herself to look in the opposite direction.

The light had grown steadily as they chugged through the water, and now there was enough to see clearly. They chose a spot—well, Lizzie and Stevie chose a spot; Rowan and Evie were simply along for the ride—dropped anchor, and settled in.

“Why didn’t we make any coffee?” Rowan asked, as she pulled a soda out of the cooler, suddenly feeling like a little blast of caffeine would be a good thing.

“Because we did that on the first day,” Lizzie explained as she pulled a fishing rod out, “and Stevie here spilled hers. See that?” She pointed to the carpet near her feet where a light, round stain was.

Stevie clenched her teeth and wrinkled her nose in an “oops” face. “Nobody brought a carafe or anything, so I just carried my mug on board.”

“That will not be happening again.” Lizzie winked at Stevie to take any sting out of her words.

Rowan popped her can open and took a sip, the carbonation hitting her empty stomach with a not-exactly-pleasant buzz. Evie watched her—something Rowan was painfully aware of—and then followed suit. Soon, they were both lounging on opposite sides of the front, sipping their sodas and watching the other two women bait their hooks.

“Who wants to fish?” Stevie asked, looking from Rowan to Evie and back.

“What the hell, I’ll give it a shot.” Rowan put her can in a drink holder and took the rod Stevie held out to her.

“You know how to cast?” Stevie asked.

“I think so, but it’s been a while. I went to a summer camp when I was little, and we learned how to fish there.”

“Okay. Here.” Stevie took the rod from her, showed her how to hold the button down when she got ready to swing, then how to let go as the line soared.

It came back to Rowan pretty fast, and soon, she was casting like she’d been doing it her whole life. Stevie cast off the other side while Lizzie sat on the back, her line off in that direction. They all sat quietly, the only sounds the hum of an occasional boat and the hoot of a crane here and there.

Rowan glanced to her left to see Evie lounging on her seat, legs out and crossed at the ankle, the back of her head to Rowan. She sat quietly. Contemplatively, it seemed, deep in thought about something. Maybe she and Claire were having problems? Her brain tossed her the memory of the two of them arguing the other night, Evie telling Claire to back the fuck off. Those were strong words coming from Evie, a person who didn’t swear often, at least not that Rowan remembered. She snorted a soft laugh at that, because really, how trustworthy was her memory at that point?

Evie turned and met her gaze, then raised her eyebrows, silently asking if she was okay.

Rowan smiled and nodded and turned back to her fishing.

“Hey,” Lizzie said. “I just thought of something. How funny is it that we have Stevie and Evie on board? You guys rhyme. I hope we don’t confuse you.”

Rowan grinned. “I mean, maybe we should just call them Stephanie and Evelyn. Save ourselves the trouble. You think?”

Lizzie rubbed her chin, making a show of thinking. “Maybe we should.”

“Yeah, if you want to find yourselves overboard,” Stevie said. “Right, Evie?”

“Hundred percent. Don’t let my skinny arms fool you. I’ll toss your asses right over the side.”

And then they were all chuckling, and it was good, being here with her friends. Rowan felt lighter than she had in days.

“Hey, Ro? Can I ask you something?” It was Lizzie again.

“Uh-oh,” Stevie said with a grin. “I probably should have warned you guys: Lizzie gets deep on the boat. Existential. Asks endless questions.”

Lizzie gave her a playful shove. “Fuck you, I do not.”