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Authors: Victoria Houston
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know what he was planning to do.
“Well,” she said after a brief pause, “can’t hurt to give it a try, Doc. Mason’s got an aggressive side to her and this may just hit her right. But, please, call me later. Even if it’s after five, I’ll have my phone with me and I’m going to worry until we know more.”
CHAPTER 12
H unched forward in anticipation, Mason was perched on the porch steps, a blue and white-striped beach towel draped across her shoulders and a bright red life jacket clutched to her chest.
“Grandpa!” She waved as she jumped to her feet and danced down the stairs towards Osborne’s car. Shouting as she ran, she said, “C.J. invited us to a picnic, too! Root beer, bratwurst. Even Ray is coming.” She yanked open the car door and thrust her head inside. “And it’s just me who gets to go with you, Grandpa. Not Cody.”
Osborne turned away to smile. He was not surprised to hear that excluding her little brother would make the afternoon even more special. As Mason clambered into the front seat, her mother appeared in the doorway, a blue backpack in her hands. She held it high as she said, “Dad, got a minute?”
“Be right there,” said Osborne, holding the car door open until he was sure Mason had fastened her seat belt.
“Here,” said Erin, as he reached the porch, “a change of clothes in case you-know-who falls in, which I can guarantee she will. And jeans and a sweatshirt for when it’s cool later. She’s got her swimsuit on under her shorts and T-shirt.”
“Has she said anything more about this morning?” asked Osborne, reaching for the backpack.
“Not a word, but she is certainly thrilled to be going off with you and her new best friend,” said Erin. “By the way, C.J. had me call Ray to be sure he knew he was invited.” Erin grimaced, “He’s coming all right, Dad, he’s bringing a “… surprise.’“ Erin mimicked Ray’s deliberate delay when imparting critical information.
“Jeez Louise,” said Osborne with a wry smile as he gave his daughter a quick peck on the cheek, “I’m not sure how many more surprises this old man can manage.”
On pulling to a stop in a parking space below the deck fronting the Calverson’s lake house, Osborne had spotted a handwritten sign directing them to take a side path between a garden and the south side of the house. “Mason, you run on ahead,” he said to the child, who needed no urging—as she was already flying down the path. “I’ll be right behind you.”
He gathered up the fly rods and fishing gear and slung Mason’s backpack over one shoulder. Rounding the back of the house, he found himself at the top of a steep hill and a stone walkway that led, in a series of switchbacks, down to the water.
Pausing to look below, he could see the back of a woman in a white T-shirt and navy blue shorts, most likely C.J., loading coolers from the dock onto the pontoon. The pontoon, which was one of the largest ones that Osborne had ever seen, was tethered to one of two docks fronting a wide, wooden deck. Alongside the other dock was a covered shore station, which held a speedboat and two jet skis.
As he started down the stone pathway, he was a good fifty yards behind Mason who was bouncing her way down and shouting loud enough for the entire shoreline to hear. Mason’s cheerful calls alerted C.J., who glanced up with a pleased smile—a smile that broke into an even wider grin when she saw Osborne.
“Hey, folks, you’re just in time for the picnic cruise. All aboard,” she said, wiping her hands on her shorts. “C’mon, I’m almost ready. Dr. Osborne, feel free to use the boathouse if you need to change—there’s a shower and everything in there.” She pointed to a boathouse off one side of the deck that had been obscured by trees when Osborne was looking down from the top of the hill.
Osborne deposited Mason’s backpack and his fishing equipment on the dock, then straightened up and, hands on his hips,
“Well,” she said after a brief pause, “can’t hurt to give it a try, Doc. Mason’s got an aggressive side to her and this may just hit her right. But, please, call me later. Even if it’s after five, I’ll have my phone with me and I’m going to worry until we know more.”
CHAPTER 12
H unched forward in anticipation, Mason was perched on the porch steps, a blue and white-striped beach towel draped across her shoulders and a bright red life jacket clutched to her chest.
“Grandpa!” She waved as she jumped to her feet and danced down the stairs towards Osborne’s car. Shouting as she ran, she said, “C.J. invited us to a picnic, too! Root beer, bratwurst. Even Ray is coming.” She yanked open the car door and thrust her head inside. “And it’s just me who gets to go with you, Grandpa. Not Cody.”
Osborne turned away to smile. He was not surprised to hear that excluding her little brother would make the afternoon even more special. As Mason clambered into the front seat, her mother appeared in the doorway, a blue backpack in her hands. She held it high as she said, “Dad, got a minute?”
“Be right there,” said Osborne, holding the car door open until he was sure Mason had fastened her seat belt.
“Here,” said Erin, as he reached the porch, “a change of clothes in case you-know-who falls in, which I can guarantee she will. And jeans and a sweatshirt for when it’s cool later. She’s got her swimsuit on under her shorts and T-shirt.”
“Has she said anything more about this morning?” asked Osborne, reaching for the backpack.
“Not a word, but she is certainly thrilled to be going off with you and her new best friend,” said Erin. “By the way, C.J. had me call Ray to be sure he knew he was invited.” Erin grimaced, “He’s coming all right, Dad, he’s bringing a “… surprise.’“ Erin mimicked Ray’s deliberate delay when imparting critical information.
“Jeez Louise,” said Osborne with a wry smile as he gave his daughter a quick peck on the cheek, “I’m not sure how many more surprises this old man can manage.”
On pulling to a stop in a parking space below the deck fronting the Calverson’s lake house, Osborne had spotted a handwritten sign directing them to take a side path between a garden and the south side of the house. “Mason, you run on ahead,” he said to the child, who needed no urging—as she was already flying down the path. “I’ll be right behind you.”
He gathered up the fly rods and fishing gear and slung Mason’s backpack over one shoulder. Rounding the back of the house, he found himself at the top of a steep hill and a stone walkway that led, in a series of switchbacks, down to the water.
Pausing to look below, he could see the back of a woman in a white T-shirt and navy blue shorts, most likely C.J., loading coolers from the dock onto the pontoon. The pontoon, which was one of the largest ones that Osborne had ever seen, was tethered to one of two docks fronting a wide, wooden deck. Alongside the other dock was a covered shore station, which held a speedboat and two jet skis.
As he started down the stone pathway, he was a good fifty yards behind Mason who was bouncing her way down and shouting loud enough for the entire shoreline to hear. Mason’s cheerful calls alerted C.J., who glanced up with a pleased smile—a smile that broke into an even wider grin when she saw Osborne.
“Hey, folks, you’re just in time for the picnic cruise. All aboard,” she said, wiping her hands on her shorts. “C’mon, I’m almost ready. Dr. Osborne, feel free to use the boathouse if you need to change—there’s a shower and everything in there.” She pointed to a boathouse off one side of the deck that had been obscured by trees when Osborne was looking down from the top of the hill.
Osborne deposited Mason’s backpack and his fishing equipment on the dock, then straightened up and, hands on his hips,
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