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Jason was still too stunned to grab his own fishing rod. “Hang on. You saw a therapist?”
“Yeppers.”
“Why? When?”
Galen flicked the fishing rod through the still water. “It was my hair.”
“Your what?” Jason wondered if he was actually still asleep, and none of this was really happening. Maybe he was snuggled in bed with Kendra, having a really weird dream. “Did you say your hair?”
“Yeah. I couldn’t cut it. I tried. I’ve made sixty-three appointments at every barber shop, hair salon, spa, what have you, within a hundred-mile radius. I show up, too. But I can’t go through with it. I pay the barber and move on. Sometimes they say, let me at least trim your beard, but I can’t do that either.” He pointed at his head, where black hair flowed to his shoulders in wild, untidy waves. “This is the most expensive fucking haircut in goddamn Minnesota. And it’s never been cut.”
Jason was laughing so hard he nearly fell out of his kayak. Only Galen would make and break sixty-three hair appointments and pay up anyway. Sure, his hair and beard were a mess—you could even say unkempt—but that was Galen, and his friends loved him anyway. “So you got therapy for a haircut?”
Galen looked affronted. “I figured maybe the problem was inside my head instead of on it. You should think about it. I learned a lot.”
“Me? I’m fine. I get a trim every six weeks from Nate Baker. He does an excellent job.”
“I mean for the inside.”
“Something wrong with my inside?”
“You’re single too. And you’re a natural-born family man. Raising Holly doesn’t count because she mostly raises herself. But that was probably good training.” A fish tugged his line, and he reeled it in with practiced skill. As he flipped it onto the kayak, the trout traced a silver arc through the air.
Hadn’t he been thinking something similar himself when he’d caught Bobby live-streaming the fire yesterday? But in the busy-ness of the day, he’d forgotten about it.
“If I’d wanted a family, I would have gotten married to Gretchen. She kept talking about our biological clocks.”
“You never would have been happy with Gretchen. She’s too…” Galen dropped the fish into the cooler of ice they’d brought. “She’s too much like you. You need someone who challenges you, who gets your blood moving, who—”
“Okay, okay,” Jason interrupted before he got too graphic. “Didn’t know you were such a matchmaker.”
“I don’t have to be. You already found someone good.”
Yeah, someone who didn’t want to “change the game.”
“We’re not talking about me. Let’s get back to you and your problems. You still haven’t cut your hair, have you?”
“Baby steps,” growled Galen.
Jason snorted so loudly he nearly capsized his kayak. Galen leaned over and steadied it for him.
“Are you going to look me in the eye and tell me you want to be single forever?”
He glanced away from Galen and stared into the deep water of Lake Bittersweet. Prisms of reflected light danced around him like morning fairies. He had lots of family already. He had two sisters, his nephews, his parents, his friends, his firehouse crew. The entire town of Lake Bittersweet sometimes felt like family. Maybe that was enough. Maybe it wasn’t.
The only thing he knew for sure was that he wanted Kendra. He loved her.
He had to tell her how he felt. He didn’t need to push her. But he had to be honest.
When he finally met Galen’s eyes, his friend peered at him across the two kayaks and shook his bushy head. “Uh oh. I know that look. Need the number of my therapist?”
Twenty-Three
Day two of Operation Respected Elders was nearly as chaotic as day one. Kendra spent most of the day at the nursing home saying things like, “we can’t hook up the gas until the fire department has signed off on it,” and “no, we don’t really have space for a pizza oven, but I’ll put it in the suggestion box for the permanent kitchen,” and “if they say they need five blenders to puree the meals, then that’s what they’re getting.”
Keeping busy was good; it kept her from dwelling on what Jason had whispered last night. Would it be so bad to change the game?
Then there was Gina’s comment. Sooner or later, all relationships reach that point where you either go forward or you stall out.
