“Tastes better than venison, too. Cool. Pick you up in thirty. Bring Pippi. Mom made us some snacks. She said she’ll grill up anything we catch.”
Harper sent a thumbs-up, saved her document one more time, and closed her laptop.
“Well, looks like we’re going fishing.” Pippi’s ears perked up at the word “going,” and she hopped onto the tote bag that Harper used to carry her. “Yes, that’s right. You get to go, too.” Pippi’s separation anxiety was surpassed only by Harper’s. They’d become so close, and Harper hated leaving her home.
Harper smiled at the unexpected chance to get outside, to try something new, and to do it all with Tommy.
She realized she thought about him quite a bit and often wondered if they’d ever be more than friends. He was great to hang out with. He was well-read, kind, and funny. He was a responsible adult, not living off a dream or a trust fund. He wasn’t trying to be an influencer—he even had his own business and had told her about opening another on the family farm.
She just didn’t know if this was friend zone or... more. And what was the point, really, if in a few months she was going back to New York anyway?
When she’d told Mary and Dot how she was feeling, Mary told her to snap out of it.
“Not everything has to be so deep, Harper! Let yourself have some fun for a change. You’re a gorgeous, talented, whip-smart young woman and helikesyou. So, let him!”
Harper pulled on khaki shorts, a royal-blue V-neck tank, and her baby blue canvas sneakers.
Her legs were pale as she sunburned easily and stayed out of the sun. And she hated the smell of self-tanner, so she never used it. Plus, the time she’d tried applying it in college, she’d ended up with orange hands for a week.
“You’re supposed to use latex gloves to protect your hands, Harp!” Dot had tried to help but even bleach couldn’t remove the stains.
“Rookie mistake. Next time call a pro.” Mary had showed off her perfectly bronze legs to make her point. For a week, Harper had kept her hands in her pockets any time she went out in public.
Harper stood in front of the entryway mirror, posed with her pale legs, and took a selfie. She sent it to Mary and Dot.
“Does this say ‘Yes, I’ll go fishing with you but don’t get any ideas’?”
“Why wouldn’t you want him to have ideas?” Mary responded immediately.
“I don’t want to come off as too interested.”
“But you are interested!” Dot said.
“Just tell me—should I look more sophisticated?”
“To go fishing? No. If anything, wear shorter shorts and just a sports bra.” Mary wasn’t helping.
“I think your outfit is perfect. You don’t want to be too dressed up. Just go have fun!” Dot was trying to build Harper’s confidence.
“And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Mary said.
“Don’t worry. It’s not like that.”
Dot jumped in. “He’s taking an afternoon off to bring you along for his favorite thing.”
“Hopefully fishing isn’t his favorite thing.” Mary added a winking emoji.
“You two are so helpful. What would I do without you?” Harper’s sarcasm showed through their screens.
“Have fun and tell us everything later!” Dot said. Mary sent her signature xoxo.
In the end, Harper decided she’d stick with the outfit she’d already put on. Her anxiety was already off the charts and changing again might put her over the edge and have her cancel on the entire afternoon.
Looking around the bench with Mary and Dot’s summer gear, she threw sunscreen and bug spray into her backpack. Her hair frizzed terribly in the humidity and it was hard to get all the stragglers into a red silk scrunchie. She pulled a floppy sun hat with a string to hold it in place down over her head.
She looked at herself in the mirror one last time. She turned from side to side to get a sense of how she looked.
“Not so bad, eh, Pip?” she said, grabbing her sunglasses.