“Nice reels.” he said
“I found this box of tackle, too. They look handmade.” She handed him the metal box, then shielded her eyes and looked up. “This is good timing. Dusk is setting in.” Even though it was late in the day, they may still have a chance of catching something. “They’ll work, yeah?”
“They’ll work.” He examined the rod she handed to him. “So will this. Want me to check—?”
“I’ve got it.” She didn’t snap, just made the simple declaration. She chose her own tackle from the box and tied it on. A few minutes later she was casting off and taking a seat in the chair beside him.
“You’ve definitely done this before.” He repeated her actions, got a bit more distance than she had and set the pole down in the receptacle on the arm of his chair. “I was thinking about grabbing a beer. You want one?”
“No, thanks. But I’ll take some wine.” She replied.
“Good idea. I’ll join you.”
Forced politeness, Bonnie thought as he disappeared below deck, had its advantages.
