“I LOVE YOU” I scream from the shore 

It carried out onto the river 

“I have 30% battery,” he says back, and I hear everything. 

“BUT I LOVE YOU” I scream back. 

“I love you too.” He says, as he checks his phone for service, battery, switching it back to airplane mode. 

I think men and women are very different. 

Hooking up the trailer to the Jeep, he left the heat running for me with the door open, my emergency lights on, and 80’s music on high. His favorite. He always turns up the radio when it’s a song from the 80’s. Usually it’s too loud for me but he dances to it and I let him until I can’t handle it anymore. 

I picture him On the pontoon, the rain falling over him and his bright colored beanie, the engine faltering like it does, with his paddle in hand just in case

I drive the Jeep with the trailer over the The speed bumps past the skater boys skating in the rain into the park where the boat launch is. 

It is November and we are procrastinators. 

There are ducks there 

And one steamy beige car with two men smoking

Max calls me twice on the way to find my location and drops me a pin and texts. It is all within 10 minutes. He instructs me on “how to maneuver the trailer.”

I maneuver the trailer just fine, thank you. I’m doing great. 

We live on the river. He climbs from the pontoon knee deep, his eyes focused on the job. He does tell me that I did a great job maneuvering the trailer and I accept the compliment. I think I surprise him a lot actually. 

He climbs out, hair wild and mustang like I like it. He is really quite handsome. I remember how much I like him. 

He takes off his boots which are full of river water (I empty them and tuck them under the heater in the car) and he climbs around in his black socks; he checks some things, soaked to his knees. Getting all of it adjusted, putting the anchor in a safe location,  handing me his wet socks, he finishes barefoot. 

“Yeehaw,” he says, climbing in, content. 

We park the damn thing and it takes forever. I’m annoyed if I’m honest. It’s raining and I’m trying to help & I’m cold. Sometimes he tells me how to direct him and I hate all these things. I want to complain. 

I feel the spirit suggest that I simply thank him. 

And so I do. 

And the rest of the afternoon carries on just fine.