Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 82282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
They didn’t forget their cooler full of beer and cheese, though.
Or the earth worms and little baby minnows that they’d be fishing with.
After the fiasco of putting the boat in the water and then trying to get it out again before it sank to the bottom of the boat ramp, they set out on the lake to do some brother bonding time, with me in tow.
Something had happened at my apartment, but of course they tried to protect me from everything. Each and every man in that room looked at me like I was a poor, pitiful, little disabled woman.
I’d reluctantly gone with Trance, Miller, and Foster, leaving the other two men at my apartment that I’d only met once before. They looked trustworthy, though, which was why I left them. Even with murder in their eyes that they’d had the moment I’d walked out the door.
“I can’t believe you forgot the fish basket.” Miller grumbled for the eighteenth time.
“I’ve got a fuckin’ live well! Put them in there, you stupid son of a bitch!” Trance yelled.
I giggled, yet again, as they started arguing like little boys.
“How am I supposed to keep mine separate from yours? If I put them in yours, then I won’t be able to gloat about whose is bigger!” Miller growled.
The giggling turned to full out laughing my ass off.
“What does it matter?” Foster asked seriously. “Viddy was the only one who caught what we were absolutely sure was a keeper.”
That was true. They’d forgotten to bring a tape measure, which meant that the fish they were catching might or might not be legal, so they’d ended up tossing them back. Mine was the only one in the live well at the moment, much to each of the men’s annoyance.
“I tried to offer my dick as a measuring tool, but you wouldn’t let me with Viddy here. Although she said it’d be all right.” Miller provoked.
Trance’s eyes turned cold and hard as they took in his older brother.
“Your dick better stay in your pants at all times. I’m not sure what four inches would do us anyway. We need twelve inches. You’d have to stack your dick three times to get what we needed.” Trance goaded.
Trying to stop the inevitable argument before it got to shoving, I distracted Trance by asking Trance about his name.
“You know, Trance, it’s really weird that both of your brothers are named after beers and you aren’t.” I said as I looked at his face.
Today my vision had returned to the better than normal, as opposed to last night, where it dwindled down to barely anything again. After a quick call to Dr. Morris this morning, he said that it was possible that it would always do that when I got tired, and to just get used to it.
It proved to be more annoying than anything. I didn’t know when, at any given time, it’d decide to stop working again. So I was always on edge, waiting for it to leave.
“Trance isn’t my real name. That’s just the name I was given when I joined The Dixie Wardens. Killian Red Spurlock is my real one...” Trance said distractedly.
He had a fish on the line, making him lose the conversation in the middle as he battled with a fish on his hook.
I was worried it’d slip off like it had the last three times, but this time he got it all the way to the boat, and Foster used the net to capture the slippery creature and bring it onto the deck.
“My God, that thing is the ugliest, most nastiest thing I’ve ever seen.” I said, walking over to it and crouching down so I could see it more clearly.
“What is it?” I asked as I ran my finger up the side of its slimy body.
“Buffalo. They’re big fuckers, but we don’t usually keep them. They don’t taste very good to us.” Trance said as he removed the hook from the fish’s mouth.
“What was mine again?” I asked.
“Channel cat.” Foster said.
“Mine’s prettier.” I decided.
“Yeah, Channel Cats are pretty.” He agreed as he tossed his line back into the water.
Reaching forward, I cracked open a bottle of Bud. “I guess it’s good that your parents didn’t like Bud Lite. Foster, Miller, and Killian have a much better ring to them.”
They snorted. “Our father owns a bar now that he’s retired. At the time each of us was born, he named us after the beer he’d been drinking the night before.”
That was explained by the youngest, Foster.
“That’s nifty and a lot like my parents’ explanation. My mom and dad named us after songs that they’d heard on the radio when we were born. They fought like cats and dogs for the entire nine months of the pregnancy. The first one was Vidalia.” I smiled wistfully at the retelling of the story. “My daddy liked to say that he had to change the station just in case Jolene came on. Sweet Adeline was the first one that came on the oldies station the minute after Adeline was born.”
“Our parents sound like they would’ve gotten along, honey.” Trance said softly, running his smelly fish fingers across my cheek.
I was so enamored with his words, and the smile on his face that revealed those beautiful dimples that I didn’t even care about his fish fingers. I just smiled and leaned into his hand, thankful that I was experiencing the moment.
Being technically blind left me with many regrets as to what I would never get to experience.
But during the next five hours on that boat, it was the best of my life.
Why, you ask?
The three men that surrounded me.
Weather in Louisiana was hot, regardless of the time of year.
It was mid-September, and only a mere eighty-nine degrees out. Although on the milder side of the heat index, it still meant that sweating was inevitable.
Add to the heat, the humidity, and you had a nice little feeling of baking going on. By mid-morning, all three men in the boat with me had shed their shirts, and all stood bare chested and glistening.