Saturday afternoon Dad is dragging the Miss Lenore down towards the creek. It's wicked cold today, and I can't imagine him lasting too long out there.

"You really taking the boat out?" I yell from the back door. I glance at the clock on the stove.

"Thought I'd give it a shot. You want to come on out with me?"

"No way," I laugh as a gust of frigid air looks like it's going to pull the hair clean out of his head.

He's tall and thin, with not an ounce of fat on him, but he claims he's out of shape. Yet here he is dragging the boat like it weighs no more than a loaf of bread. Dad loves being outside. No matter what the weather is like. There was one time when I caught him standing on the porch when a hurricane was passing through.

I watch him shove off shore then run over to the phone to dial Charla's number.

"Hey, have you talked to my dad?"

"Sure did. I told him I was coming to get him for a long night of fun and food." Charla lets a few seconds go by then she starts talking again. "Rory, is everything okay? I worry about you."

"It's great. I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me. Dad's out in the boat now, I was just wondering what time you were coming by. I want to make sure he's ready."

"I'll be by around seven-thirty. Do you need me to drop you off somewhere?"

Think fast, French. There is no way Dad and Charla will leave you alone if you don't say you have plans. "Nope. My friend, Taylor, is coming over. He won't get here until later. So, how long do you think you and Dad will be out?"

"I hadn't really thought about it. You sure something isn't going on?"

Crap. I've made her suspicious. Desperate times call for desperate measures. So I do what I have learned to do well...I lie.

"I had a dream that you and Dad hit it off. "

She laughs. She has one of those laughs that makes you all warm inside. It sounds like music.

"So, that's what this is about? Heck, Rory, that ship sailed a long time ago. Your daddy and I are just good friends."

"Grandma Carolyn says that being good friends is the most important part of any relationship."

"That's true. But it doesn't mean every friendship is destined for romance."

I study my fingernails as she talks. For the first time in a long time I utter the truth. "Well, it can't keep me from hoping."

"That's the sweetest thing anyone's said to me in a long time," she says.




Dad stays out in the boat for a long time. He doesn't fish or row around, just sits hunched against the cold, staring at the woods across the creek and the water. Sometimes I wonder what he thinks about when he's out there. Maybe it's all the mistakes he made when he was young. Or maybe it's about all the mistakes I've been making lately. Whatever it is he's thinking about, he sure does look lonely doing it.

I meet him at the bank when he finally rows himself back to shore.

"So, how was it?" I ask.

"Cold."

"You shoulda' worn gloves," I say, reaching down to grab the edge of the dingy.

He nods, then tilts his head to the side and looks intently into my eyes. "What are your plans for the night, Rory?"

He catches me off guard. Mentally, I brace myself.

"I think Taylor's coming over."

"Is he that snotty kid?" he asks.

I shake my head quickly. "Oh, no, that's Reid."

"Good, I don't care for that one."

He has something on his mind, but carries the other side of the dingy without saying anything. It's not until we're lifting the boat over the edge of the oleander that he speaks. "Rory, you'd tell me if something was going on, wouldn't you?"

"Sure."

"Good. I don't like being blindsided. A man's word is about all he's got in my book. You've been raised to be upfront."

I nod, careful not to look away or shove my hands in my pockets. Those are my giveaway signs.

"A lot's been going on lately. I don't know what I'd do if I found you were hiding something from me."

I almost tell him. It's the right thing to do. The old Rory would spill his guts. He'd come clean and confess. But I'm trying to be a different guy now. Like a snake who's shedding his old skin, I'll scrape along on my belly until it falls away. Then a new, shinier Rory will appear.

Of all the people who should understand this, Dean should.