Nathan brought his pole back to cast and she snapped his picture. He wore a ball cap, the bill curved low on hisforehead and just above his silver and black Oakley sunglasses. His khaki shorts rode low on his behind andshowed his red and white striped boxers. He wore skater shoes without socks.

His cheeks were very pink, and he'd taken off his T-shirt although she'd warned him against it.

"You treat me like a baby," he'd complained like a baby. But he gave in and allowed her to rub him down withsun screen.

She turned her camera on Jack, who stood across the stern from Nathan fishing from the opposite side of theboat. He'd pushed his straw cowboy hat low on his forehead and wore a pair of sunglasses with mirrored bluelenses. His old green T-shirt was worn around the neck and the short sleeves fit loose around the hard moundsof his biceps. Earlier he'd caught her staring at the little hole in the shoulder, and he'd told her it was his luckyfishing shirt. A pair of faded Levi's hugged his hips and thighs. The edge of the waistband was slightly frayed,and the five-button fly cupped his package in soft faded denim. She wondered how much luck those pantsbrought hint Probably a lot. On his feet he wore cowboy boots. What else?

He glanced across his shoulder at her and she snapped his picture. Irritation wrinkled his brow before he turnedhis attention back to his line. She didn't know if he was irritated because she was taking his picture or becauseGodsmack had just said the F-word again. Although, she'd certainly heard him throw that word around. I'mgoing to fuck you till you faint came to mind.

He'd picked her and Nathan up that morning driving a white Dodge Ram truck. To her surprise, it wasn't"vintage." It was fairly new and pulling a twenty-one-foot bass boat. When he'd asked her and Nathan the otherday if they wanted to go fishing, she'd envisioned an aluminum boat with a little putt-putt motor. She shouldhave known better. Jack wasn't the kind of guy to have a putt-putt anything.

The gray-and-red boat had dual consoles with seats that looked better suited for a race car. A third fishing chairwas perched in the back by the huge outboard engine. Below the clock on the wood-grain console was the CDplayer. Earlier as they'd set up camp, Nathan and Jack made a deal. They would alternate music. Jack went firstand then Nathan. The problem was that Jack had a human-sized CD case, while Nathan had a case about thesize of the New York phone book. They were in for a ground-thumping few days.

Nathan caught the first fish. A twelve-inch Walleye that brought the first real joy she'd seen on his face in a longtime. Jack netted it for him and helped him remove the hook. With their head bent over the fish, Daisy snappeda few pictures. She was too far away and the music was too loud for her to hear what they said to each other, butwhen Nathan tipped back his head and laughed, Daisy felt it in her chest. The pang in her heart wasn't solelydue to the pleasure of her son's laughter, though. It was Jack too. He was reaching out to Nathan. Trying tomake a connection with his son, and for some reason that Daisy didn't understand, she felt herself fall a littlemore in love with him. Not the fast wham-bam love of adolescence. Not the flash of heat and fire like alightning bolt, which she'd once tried and failed to grasp in the palm of her hand. This was easier. A gentle beatagainst her heart, a soothing ahh in her chest, which scared her more than the first time she'd fallen for him. Thislove was more mature. She was more mature, and she knew exactly what to do about it.

Absolutely nothing.

Mali Flegel had called her the other night and asked her to dinner. It had been so long since a man had asked 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.