Kitchen Witch

30 | Cod Catch

Riley had barely made it to the dock on time, having driven a little faster than he legally should have, hoping that if he had gotten pulled over, he could use that damn nightie as a legitimate excuse. He sauntered up to the boat, already packed with the day's group and waved at Scotty.

"I would ask if everything was ok, given that early is on time in your book, but judging by that shit-eating grin on your face, I would reckon that you're doing just fine." Scotty teased.

He attempted to flash Scotty a glare, but his face betrayed him; he really was in far too good of a mood for even the likes of Scotty's chiding to goat him. "Thanks for loading up. The weather looks like she's going to be on our side today." He said, hopping down into the boat.

Riley made a quick introduction to the awaiting tour group, introducing himself as captain and giving some information on the spot they would be fishing before handing things over to Scotty. Even with Scotty's constant chiding, he appreciated the guy's partnership. Not only was he an experienced fisherman but he had the charisma for doing the more social parts of the tour group work. He was great at chatting up the customers and even at selling the tours. Riley provided the boat and assisted with the hands-on part of the fishing for the day, leaving the finessing to Scotty.

The Keane's Crest pulled out of the harbour and headed into the open water. Riley leaned back against the backrest, taking in the view of the sun bouncing off the water's surface. His thoughts drifted off to the night before; no wonder Scotty had ribbed him; he couldn't keep the smile off his face. He still couldn't get over the fact she had gone to the trouble of preparing a meal for him. It had been a very, very long time since someone had gone out of their way to do something like that for him. He had never grown up in a house with home-cooked meals or family dinners. His brief marriage consisted of pizza boxes and microwave meals eaten in front of the TV. They had both been so young, working hard to make ends meet, with little time or energy for culinary skills. He had eventually learned how to cook up fish and seafood and the odd steak like any self-respecting fisherman. But to be honest, his meals at home usually came out of a box of some sort. He had felt spoiled. Dinner had been easy and relaxed, and he enjoyed her company immensely. He groaned under his breath, thinking of how much he had enjoyed her company. Riley pushed forward on the lever as they left the channel and tried to stay focused on the job.

The weather was serving up fish for the group on board the Keane's Crest. They had put down anchor in one of Riley's favourite spots; it produced more than it didn't. The sun was out, the breeze gentle enough to keep the stink of fish bait off ya and the boat from rocking too hard. The boat was alive with squeals from the first-time fishers dropping line and pulling up cod after a few jigs. Riley kept busy helping take fish off the hooks and untangling the odd line. Before long, the group had amassed a good catch. Riley pulled up the anchor and made to start back while Scotty entertained the lot with a demonstration of cleaning the fish. Riley could hear the telltale roars of laughter as Scotty's tried and true one-liners hit their mark as he let the engine warm up. The boat started an odd, subtle vibration; Riley made note of it and moved the boat into gear, hoping the old girl wasn't about to start giving him trouble. But his bout of good luck seemed to have run its course; the vibration worsened, and intermittent clicking started with it.

"Son of a bitch!"

Scotty had picked up on the vibration by now and had excused himself to check-in. "Shit – loose belt, ya think?" Scotty readjusted his ball cap, fingering the threadbare lip.

"I'm hoping that's it. I'm going to drop anchor again and open her up. Think you can keep up the entertainment?"

Scotty nodded and Riley headed to the engine cover and muttered a prayer of sorts as he opened up the compartment for a better look. One of the pistons had a crack in it, likely from prolonged stress, the boat was old, his Grandfather's boat. Riley slammed the cover shut, the grin that had plastered his face earlier now replaced by stress. This was going to be a costly repair and would take time. Time that the boat wouldn't be in the water earning. Riley felt a pressure build in his chest thinking of his kids and the money he sent back each month. Things were always tight, especially with both kids in college. But now things were going to get a lot worse. He dreaded having to tell Tracy. But first, he had to get the damn boat back to shore.