An Unexpected Catch

As I stood looking out over the lake, the sun was just setting, and the sky was blanketed in purple with a fiery orange glow in the west. The fading sunlight shimmered across the rippling water. Gentle waves lapped against the rocks and sandy shoreline, stirred by a welcome breeze after a scorching afternoon.

As I walked the bank, pondering where to first cast my lure, something bright caught my eye. There stood a woman in her early to mid-thirties wearing a pink baseball cap, a white tank top, and green shorts. Wavy blonde hair spilled out the back of her cap to the middle of her back. She had lightly tanned skin, an athletic build, and a natural beauty that stood out even from a distance.

In her hand was a bait casting rod with a reel that had tangled fishing line spewing from it like a rat's nest. She tugged and pulled at the line from different angles, trying to fix the backlash, but only making it worse.

I looked the other way and began casting my lure around a patch of weeds near the shore. It wasn't that I didn't want to help her; I simply didn't want to unintentionally embarrass her. My first retrieve was slow, with no strikes. As I prepared for another cast by opening the bail on my spinning reel, I heard a voice behind me.

"Sir? Excuse me, sir?"

I turned around, and now that she was closer, I realized just how stunning she was. Her complexion was nearly flawless despite wearing no makeup. Her lips were naturally full, and her eyes were a striking shade of green.

"Yes? What can I do for you, ma'am?"

Instead of answering, she looked sheepishly at the ground and extended the fishing rod toward me. The reel now had an even larger tangle of line spilling from it.

"Can you help me?" she asked, clearly embarrassed that she'd had to ask a complete stranger.

"Oh. Yes, absolutely." I smiled as I accepted the rod. "It would be a shame for you to miss the evening bite. There are some nice bass and catfish feeding on these shallow flats around sunset. Here, take this and keep fishing while I get your reel sorted out."

I handed her my spinning rod, but the moment she took it, I realized something was wrong. She looked at the reel, then back at me.

"I... I don't know how to use this kind of reel," she admitted.

"Oh, it's really simple. I'll show you."

I started explaining, but she interrupted me.

"Actually, I think I'd learn better if you guided me. Could you stand behind me and show me with my hands?"

"Oh. Sure. If you're comfortable with that."

I stepped behind her, careful not to crowd her. Reaching one arm around, I began explaining.

"First, pinch the line against the rod with your index finger, then open the bail."

"Get a little closer and guide my hands with yours. I don't want to get this wrong," she said with a shy smile.

I stepped in closer, lightly brushing against her back. The scent of coconut and tropical flowers drifted from her shampoo. I gently placed my hands over hers and guided her through the process.

"Use this hand to hold the rod while your index finger pinches the line against it," I explained. Her hands were soft, and her neatly manicured nails were painted emerald green. "Now hold the bottom of the rod with your other hand and get into casting position. Think of the pinched line as the thumb button on your baitcaster. You'll release it in much the same way, but with a spinning reel you don't have to worry about thumbing the spool to prevent a backlash. Ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," she replied.

Together we made a smooth cast that sent the lure sailing just beyond the weed line.

"There," I said. "Perfect. Better than a lot of people who've been using spinning reels for years."

She looked over her shoulder with a grin. "You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"I'm really not. You didn't release the line too early or too late. That's usually the hardest part."

She turned back toward the lake and began reeling slowly.

"So what's the trick?" she asked. "Do I just reel it in as fast as I can?"

"Not unless you want every fish in the lake laughing at you."

She laughed, and I couldn't help smiling with her.

"Fish laugh?"

"Oh, absolutely. They hold meetings under the docks and make fun of bad anglers."

"I knew it," she said, playing along. "That's why they've all been ignoring me."

"They've probably already started giving you a nickname."

She laughed again.

"So what should I be doing?"

"Slow and steady. Every few turns of the reel, pause for a second or give the rod tip a little twitch. It'll make the lure look like an injured bait fish."

She followed my instructions carefully.

"Like this?"

"Exactly."

For a while we stood together in comfortable silence, watching the water. The evening had settled over the lake, and the songs of birds were slowly giving way to crickets. Somewhere farther down the shoreline, a fish broke the surface with a loud splash.

"So," I asked, "how long have you been fishing?"

She smiled sheepishly.

"If I'm being generous? About thirty minutes."

I laughed.

"So this is your first time?"

"It is. My dad loved fishing, but he passed away a few years ago. I found some of his old tackle while cleaning out my garage last week. I thought... maybe if I learned, I'd feel a little closer to him."

The humor faded from her voice.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly.

She offered a small smile.

"It's okay. Honestly, he'd probably be laughing at me for turning that reel into such a disaster."

"He'd probably be proud that you came out here and tried instead of letting his gear sit in a closet."

"I hope so."

After a moment she glanced over at me.

"What about you? You've obviously done this a few times."

"My grandpa taught me when I was six. I've been hooked ever since."

She rolled her eyes.

"No pun intended?"

"I wish I could say it wasn't."

She laughed.

"You really do have terrible jokes."

"I save my best material for complete strangers."

"Good to know."

She looked back toward the water.

"I'm glad I asked you for help."

"I'm glad you did, too."

For a moment neither of us spoke. The lake had become almost perfectly calm, reflecting streaks of orange and purple across its surface.

She turned toward me with a radiant smile.

Then she did something I never expected.

She kissed me.

Not a quick peck on the cheek, but a genuine kiss that lingered for several seconds.

The moment she pulled away, her eyes widened.

"I'm so sorry! I never do things like that. I just got caught up in the moment. I've been alone for so long, and you're so handsome."

She kept talking faster and faster.

"It always sounds so much better in romance novels. Doing it in real life was... awkward. Not that you're awkward! I mean... I should just stop talking."

She took a step back, lowered her gaze to the ground, and blushed furiously. She looked as though she fully expected me to reject or scold her.

"I actually thought it was spontaneous and romantic," I said with a smile. "As a man, it's refreshing when a beautiful woman isn't afraid to show she's interested. Dating can be confusing these days. Sometimes it's impossible to tell if someone likes you."

"I thought you'd be angry," she said softly. "It really wasn't appropriate. I'm sorry. I guess I should introduce myself. I'm Brooke."

"Well, Brooke, I'm Bill." I smiled. "You might want to reel your lure back in."

She glanced down at the rod as though she'd completely forgotten she was holding it.

"Oh. Right."

As she reeled the lure toward shore, I asked, "Well, Brooke, how would you feel about letting me take you to dinner after we're done fishing?"

She looked up at me, her smile somehow even brighter than before.

"I'd love that."

That was three years ago today.

Brooke and I have now been happily married for one year. We had a lakeside wedding, and these days we spend many evenings fishing together from our shiny new boat.

Sometimes, when we're out on the water together, she'll jokingly remind me that if I hadn't known how to untangle a bait caster, we might never have met.

I always smile and tell her she has it backward.

The tangled reel may have brought us together.

But it was the woman holding it that hooked me for life.