Relaxed, Valerie sat in the camp chair and watched the tip of her fishing pole. Brad caught a bass earlier and it swam around in the bucket waiting for a partner. “I never catch anything,” she mused. “I remember once I kept moving around because all you boys were catching fish right and left and I couldn’t even get a nibble.”

Brad didn’t have anything in the water. She had a feeling he did that so she could catch something. “You caught that stingray in Florida that time.”

“Yeah, fishing for flounder.”

Brad grinned. “Still. I never caught a stingray in my life.”

Valerie shifted the baseball cap on her head and grinned at him. “You might as well hold the pole so we can catch dinner before the sun goes down.”

He smiled a gentle, lazy smile that made her stomach do funny things. “I’m in no hurry.” He kicked his feet out in front of him and crossed his legs at his ankles. “How was work today?”

“Nonstop. I grabbed a sandwich from the deli and ate it in the elevator going from one meeting to another.” She retrieved the bottle of water from the cup holder in the arm of the camp chair. Condensation made the label fall off. She ran her finger over the remnants of glue. “I’m doing design work at home because the days are full of meetings.”

“Was it like that for you in Savannah?”

She thought back to her little shared office and the influx of work. “In cycles. I’m assuming this is similar with greater volume and more staff.”

“Sure. Lots of jobs are beginning. That’s a busy time for you guys in design and engineering. The project managers are winding down jobs, coming home, getting ready to get back out there. Everyone’s time seems to be busy at different cycles.”

He rubbed his eyes with his fingers, and she realized how tired he looked. “Except for you,” she observed. “You are in the thick of all the cycles.”

“Except me.” He sighed. “Poor little me who worked until nearly midnight the Sunday before Memorial Day so I could enjoy the picnic.” He raised his water bottle in a toast toward her. “All because I drew the short straw.”

“Wait, what?” Fishing pole forgotten, she leaned forward and put her elbows on her knees. “Did you guys actually still draw straws like when you were kids? You drew straws for your current positions?”

He laughed. “Did you not know that?”

“No, I just assumed you were picked because you were more gifted in leadership than your brothers. You’ve always been more organized, neater.”

He shook his head. “Dad wanted it to be placed in God’s hands, not his. He didn’t feel like he could make a fair decision. So, we drew straws. Later, he told me he knew it would be me. But, who knows, he might have said that to any of us.”

She studied his face, the seriousness in his gray eyes, the order he’d created around him even in a fishing spot on the river. “No, I think he knew it would be you. It did not surprise me when you were named president. I think anyone who knows you, who knows all three of you, expected it to be you.”

“Everyone but me.” He stood and walked over to the cooler, digging in it until he pulled out an apple. “I couldn’t believe it was me. I only recently just relaxed and accepted it.” He settled back in his chair and took a bite of the apple, crunching into the crisp flesh. “You know, when dad and Mr. Mason first started Mason-Dixon contracting, they only wanted to build affordable houses.”

Valerie snorted. “You and I both know there’s builders making a killing from south of the All American to north of Lawrenceburg building little mini-mansions on the cheap and selling them for millions. That’s anything but affordable.”

Brad nodded. “That supply will keep coming down the pike as long as there is a demand, too. No end in sight.”

“Very different from the vision Mason-Dixon had, I imagine.”

Brad pursed his lips. “Mason-Dixon grew too fast. The demand outpaced their vision. Eventually, they split and both created huge names for themselves. They built so much of this city. Dad never planned on having thousands of employees over several states. He just wanted to build affordable houses. But he embraced it and he did it well. If I sit and think about it, I get overwhelmed with the responsibility. I don’t want to ruin his legacy.”

She stayed silent for several minutes before she said, “I seriously doubt you’ll do anything to ruin his legacy. But, as he officially retires and you fully take the reins without his presence, if you make changes or do things differently in various areas, that’s completely acceptable. Because you’re taking his legacy and turning it into your own.”

“Assuming I have children to whom I can pass it down.”

She picked up her pole and slowly reeled in the bait. “You don’t want children?”

“Of course, I do. Lots and lots of them.” He took another bite of the apple. “But first comes love, then comes marriage.”

Valerie laughed. “Then comes baby in the baby carriage.”

“Bingo.” He finished the apple and tossed the core into the water. “Lots of folks get that out of order these days. I found it works much better when you do things in order. I’ll leave the timing for all of that to God, like always.”

They sat in silence for several minutes. Valerie couldn’t help but think about the things she’d done out of order in her life. She tried to push the thoughts away and not let any darkness into the sunny day. Finally, Brad asked, “Are you happy you came home?”

Standing as she checked her bait, she looked down at him. “I could have gone anywhere. Your dad would have put me in any Dixon Contracting office or written me a referral. This was where I wanted to come.”

After she cast the bait, she tightened the reel and sat back down. “I already know all those facts,” Brad said, “but I asked if you were happy you came home.”

She lifted the chair by the handles and turned so she could face him instead of the water. “I have learned so many things about myself, about my parents, about you. None of that would have happened if I hadn’t come home. I’m glad I came. But, frankly Brad, I haven’t been happy in years. I don’t know if I know how to be anymore.”

He sat forward and took her hands in his. “You don’t have happy moments?”

Contemplating what he said, she pursed her lips and tried to form her answer correctly. His hands were warm, strong. She loved the feel of his skin against hers. “I have moments where I feel happiness. But reality always pushes in, physical pain, regrets, all of it comes back. I don’t know what that means about me or my psyche. I’m not saying I dwell in misery, but I am definitely not existing in a state of happiness.”

“What would make you happy?” She could tell by the fierce look in his eyes that he was not teasing her, that the question was serious. She had a feeling that if she had an answer, he’d move heaven and earth to make it so.

“I think,” she said, breathing out, “that I have to find a way to come to terms with decisions I made in my past, to forgive the younger me. I think I live in a constant state of regret and when I can let that go, then I’ll find happiness.” She smiled. “I was happy when you said you’d take me fishing this week. I was happy to look forward to this evening all day. I know I’ll be happy as I cook up that fish you caught. I’m able to experience moments of happiness.”

“Valerie, if you need anything, or if there is ever anything at all I can do to make you happy, let me know. Whatever it is. I promise I’ll make it happen.”

“I believe that,” she said in almost a whisper. “Thank you.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the fishing pole bend in half and the seriousness of the moment disappeared as she jumped up and caught it. Laughing, she set the hook and slowly reeled in her fish. It fought, she fought, Brad gave advice, and she worked it until she got it all the way onto shore.

Brad reached down and picked it up and used a pair of pliers to pull the hook out of its mouth. It landed in the bucket with a splash and both fish started swimming in circles.

“I think it’s as big as yours,” Valerie said, admiring her catch.

“At least.” He rubbed her shoulders. “Good catch. Do you want to keep them both?”

She pursed her lips and contemplated the question. “It’s a lot of fish for the two of us, isn’t it?”

“I think one is plenty.”

“Okay. Toss yours back.”

“Well, of course,” he said, reaching into the bucket with both hands to scoop out the fish that had spent a good part of the afternoon contained. “I wouldn’t think of tossing yours back.”

After he slipped his fish back into the water, he talked her through killing and cleaning her catch. “It’s way easier to do it out here,” he explained, “than in your kitchen sink. Just toss the waste back into the river. Circle of life.”

Valerie used his fillet knife to clean and gut her fish, then rinsed it out in the water in the bucket. She knew she’d rinse it again at her house. Brad had brought a plastic bag to transport any catch in and after putting her fillets of fish in it, she sealed it and put it in the cooler with the leftover snack she’d packed.

“Now to dinner!” she exclaimed as they packed up the fishing poles and tackle.

Brad tossed everything into the back of his truck and held the door open for her. She felt ridiculously proud of her catch and couldn’t wait to cook it. As he drove to her house, she turned slightly in the seat and faced him. “Thanks for taking me fishing.”

“Best romantic date ever,” he said, looking over at her and winking. “Seriously. It’s a mixture of two of my favorite things; you and fishing.”

Her breath caught at his words but she kept her comeback light. “Right up there with fishing, huh? That’s a lot of pressure.”

“You don’t even have to try.” In no time, he had pulled into her driveway. He carried the cooler in and she went straight to the kitchen. “I already have coleslaw. Your mom sent it home with me on Monday. And I made a hush puppy batter this morning. All we have to do is cook some potatoes and these fillets.”

After setting the cooler on the ground, Brad walked to the sink and washed his hands. “Just tell me what to do.”

While she seasoned the fish and put the fillets under the flame of the broiler, Brad sliced potatoes and added them to the oil she’d heated up in a frying pan. In another pan of oil, she added scoops of the cornmeal and green onion hush puppy mixture. When the little balls of bread rose to the surface and turned brown on the bottom, she turned them over and let them cook another two minutes, then pulled them out of the oil and let them drain on a paper towel covered plate.

With the first batch of hush puppies draining, she opened the broiler drawer and checked the fish. Using a spatula, she turned them and closed the drawer.

Thirty minutes after getting home, the two of them sat at her table. Brad held out his hand and she placed hers in it and bowed her head while he prayed.

“God, you are a God of wonders, a God of healing, and a God of love. We thank You for everything that You are and everything that You will be. Please bless this food to the nourishment of our bodies and our bodies to Your service.”

His prayer resonated with her heart. God was a God of healing. Not just of bodies, but of minds and spirits. Seeking healing through Him, forgiveness for herself and her mistakes, might break through this fog of merely surviving and help her find a way to bring joy and happiness back into her life.

She liked the feel of her hand in his and hesitated a second longer than necessary before letting go. Nervous, she put her napkin in her lap and picked up her fork. “You fry a mean potato, Mr. Dixon,” she said around a mouth full of food.

“My mama raised me right.”

She laughed and immediately relaxed. They chatted as they ate. About work, about his brothers, about Buddy. “He isn’t sure where he fits in my life anymore,” she said, thinking about the man who gave up everything for her.

“You intentionally shut him out. To protect him from your life, I’m sure. And while everyone understands that intellectually, you probably have to be intentional about bringing him back in now.” He pushed his empty plate aside and leaned forward on his arms. “I’ve done that to Jon without realizing it. He’s going through something. He’s dark. He’s drinking too much and angry too often. I found myself parenting him instead of supporting him and it affected our relationship. It took my dad saying something to me to make me realize it.”

She looked at him, at the worry clouding his eyes, at the lines of strain around his face. “I imagine it’s hard to go from boss to equal depending on the environment.”

“Even you had a hard time with me being the boss,” he remarked.

She ran her tongue over her teeth. “I think I might be over that now.”

“Yeah?” He reached out and took her hand. The move startled her, and she tensed up before she realized it. “Good.”

Intentionally relaxing, she pulled her hand away and stood, gathering his plate and hers. She took them to the kitchen and put them in the sink. When she turned around, she found him standing in the kitchen door.

“I’m going to leave now,” he said, his voice deep. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She clasped her hands in front of her and nervously wrung her fingers. “Oh, okay.” He turned and she followed him to the door. Before he opened it, he stopped and faced her. She was right on his heels and almost ran into him. He grabbed her shoulders to steady her and looked down at her.

“Thank you for catching and cooking dinner. I had an amazing time.”

Heart pounding, mouth dry, she smiled a tight smile and stared into his eyes. “Me, too,” she said. “Thanks for, uh, taking me up on it.”

When his hand cupped her cheek, she stopped breathing. Was he going to kiss her? Was Brad Dixon about to kiss her?

When he released her and opened the door, she felt a sudden sense of disappointment. In a nervous gesture, she licked her lips and watched him get into his truck. She raised a hand goodbye as he backed out of the driveway.

Only when she shut and locked the door did she realize she had come home with him and never checked the house.

Amazed, heart pounding, she grabbed her keys and cell phone and did a cursory check, but for once she didn’t feel surprised to find everything in order and nothing at all out of place.

Brad pulled into the parking lot of the apartment building they would renovate. He had the keys in his pocket, so he grabbed his tablet and let himself into the office that he and Ken would call home for the next several months. He didn’t want to go home and think about how Valerie had tensed up when he touched her. He would rather just work, put it out of his mind.

The office had a main waiting area, two offices, and a bathroom. They would convert the waiting room into a living space and kitchenette. They had the couch, chairs, refrigerator, and appliances in storage from the last renovation job. Using his fingertip, he drew on his tablet and created rough plans for the space. The bathroom looked like a shower could fit in it if they got rid of the sink. They could use the kitchen sink. Each of the offices would serve as a bedroom. They had plenty of room for single beds and dressers, and each could have a sink and mirror installed.

He made notes, he wrote plans, he sent Ken three texts and adjusted plans based on the replies he received. He sent an email to one of the crew chiefs to have four laborers scheduled for tomorrow to move the furniture and appliances out of storage and bring them here.

Hours later, he found himself in Jon’s room, nursing a beer long gone warm.

“Do you think she’s afraid of you?” his brother asked.

Did he? He analyzed the question. “I think she’s aware of what a man can do to a woman, and she has to force herself not to expect it from me. But I don’t think it’s actual fear.” He set the half-empty beer down and stood, shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “I wish I had stayed and asked her. Why did I leave?”

Jon put his empty beer bottle back into the cardboard carrier it came in. “You left because you don’t want her afraid of you and you couldn’t stand the thought. It’s understandable. But, dude, you’re going to have to confront it or else you’ll never ever get anywhere with her.”

Brad paced to the window and looked at his reflection in the light. How could he possibly address it? “I have this rage inside of me that wants to pull a Superman and fly around the world backwards, reset time. It’s like this energy that consumes me.”

Jon sighed. “Rage, huh. Yeah. I understand.” He stood and crossed the room so he stood in front of him. He leaned his back against the window frame and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You can’t, though. So how are you going to settle this rage? What’s the source? Tyrone, who hurt her? Valerie, who bucked everything we were raised to believe and moved in with a married man? Buddy who took her away from you when she was fifteen? You have to find it, backtrack until you get to where it starts, then you have to deal with it there. Until then, your soul is going to be unsettled, and you won’t be good for her.”

Brad studied his brother. They looked alike. Most people couldn’t tell them apart. To him, though, they had so many differences, he wondered how they even came from the same parents. “Where did such wisdom come to someone so young and attractive?”

Jon’s lips formed a thin line. “I can’t talk about it.” He walked up and slapped Brad on his shoulder. “I love you, man. I want to see you content and happy. If I can help, let me know.”

“Likewise, brother.”