Gem Bellows's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

For a week, Gem watched the same thing happen. River came in, ate his stew, and left. He never stayed past his last spoonful. By the time she dried her hands and stepped out from the kitchen, he was already gone into the swamp night. She was tired of scraps. Tonight she decided to keep him at the table longer than a bowl of stew ever could. She waited until he was halfway through his meal. Then she brought him a second bowl he hadn't ordered. "On the house," she said, setting it down. River looked up. "I didn't ask for this." "I know. You always leave the second you finish. I figured I'd give you a reason to sit." He studied her. For a second she thought he might stand and walk out the door. Instead the corner of his mouth moved under his beard. "That obvious?" "You're the most reliable man I've ever met." He huffed a short laugh and picked up his spoon. Gem's chest loosened. She pulled a stool from an empty table and sat across from him before her nerve ran out. "Why the rush every night?" she asked. "Nobody waiting on you?" "My lines." He nodded toward the window, toward the dark water. "I set them after dark. Catfish bite best then." "So you leave good company for fish." "Fish pay my rent." He ate another bite. "Company doesn't." It wasn't a no. She leaned in. "Teach me, then. Your lines. I've never set one." River stopped chewing. He looked at her the way the regulars looked at Calla, like she'd wandered in from the wrong place. "You'd hate it. Cold. Smells like bait." "I scrub fish grease for a living. I can handle bait." The fire popped in the big stone hearth behind them. A fisherman laughed near the door. River set his spoon down and seemed to weigh something. "Tomorrow," he said. "Before I eat. Meet me at the dock behind this place. Sundown." Gem kept her face calm. Inside, she was screaming. "Sundown. I'll be there." He finished the second bowl. He didn't rush it. When he finally stood, he looked at her once more. "You're strange, Gem." "I get that a lot." He left through the door into the swamp night. This time, she wasn't holding scraps. She had tomorrow, and a whole hour on the water with him, before the stew ever cooled. She turned toward the bar, grinning. The grin died fast. Calla sat on her usual stool, martini untouched. She had heard every word. She lifted the glass in a small, patient toast. "A dock date," Calla said softly. "How sweet. Be a shame if your fisherman learned who he's really taking fishing." Gem's victory curdled. She had finally won time with River. Now she had to buy Calla's silence before the sun went down.