HARPER AND I were only two Red Hooks deep on a rented pontoon when I spied the heads bobbing dark against Lake Hartwell's shimmers. There hadn't been another boat all morning so I growled us over to the man and woman fighting to keep their faces above water. Harper was quick to whirl out the rings and we tugged them deck side, working silently until they were up and in, the water pouring off their bodies, slapping the vinyl seats. No sense in asking what'd happened while they were still guzzling air. It'd all come out eventually.
Harper gave them towels and the sun crept forth, the thermometer's mercury kissing eighty. The man barely wiped his red face before he gunned the balled towel against the woman's seat and shouted, “You're happy now, aren't you?” and I felt like I'd turned on a movie midway through.
“Jake,” she protested between huffs. She clutched my faded Minnie Mouse towel, the one I'd never found the right mood to throw away.
“Take me over there,” Jake ordered us, pointing, and I heard the distant whine of the Jet Ski. It was doing circles in front of Cemetery Island. I looked for the kill switch on him but they weren't wearing life jackets. He'd left the key in.
We waited a few rotations, the Jet Ski set in its orbit. I adjusted my floral one-piece. “It'll run out of gas before it touches ground,” I told him. “We'll take you in and call patrol.”
I turned the pontoon around, but Harper kept staring at it. “What if it hits someone, Em?”
“You're welcome to swim over and grab it while I take them to shore.” I blew Harper a kiss and their nose wrinkled, though they couldn't hide their smirk. They gave just as
