Chapter 10 - STILL FISHING TOGETHER
One year after Charles Mercer’s conviction, Nia returned to the lake on the anniversary of her father’s death.
She went alone.
On purpose.
No reporters.
No community event.
No speeches.
Just her, a fishing rod, and the repaired tackle box.
Exactly what she had wanted the afternoon Madison and Chloe arrived.
Funny how badly a peaceful afternoon could change a life.
She sat in the same spot.
The reeds were taller now.
The preserve had placed a small wooden sign near the path:
PUBLIC FISHING ACCESS — PLEASE LEAVE THE SHORELINE BETTER THAN YOU FOUND IT.
James would have liked that.
Maybe he would have complained about the font.
Nia smiled.
She opened the tackle box.
The red lure rested on top.
Her father’s initials.
J.B.
Scratched into the metal.
She tied it to the line.
Then heard footsteps.
Nia sighed.
“If that’s somebody with a camera, I’m throwing it in the lake.”
Madison laughed behind her.
“Still threatening people near water?”
Nia turned.
Madison carried two coffees.
Chloe followed with breakfast sandwiches.
“You said you were going alone,” Nia said.
“We ignored you.”
“I noticed.”
Madison handed her coffee.
“We can leave.”
Nia looked at them.
Then at the empty shoreline.
“No.”
Chloe smiled.
“Good.”
They sat nearby.
Not too close.
They had learned Nia’s definition of company still included personal space.
For a while, nobody talked.
Then Madison said:
“I used to think this place was ugly.”
Nia looked at her.
“You came here to take pictures.”
“I know.”
“So it couldn’t have been that ugly.”
“I meant boring.”
“And now?”
Madison watched the sunlight move across the water.
“Now I think I was boring.”
Chloe laughed.
“That’s growth.”
“Shut up.”
Nia smiled.
Raymond arrived later.
He stayed standing.
“I didn’t know if I should come.”
Nia looked at him.
“You’re already here.”
“True.”
He held something out.
A folded paper.
“What now?”
“The original partnership plan.”
Nia opened it.
Twenty years old.
James Bennett and Raymond Keller.
Small cabins.
Public trails.
Fishing docks.
Protected reeds.
A community lodge.
Nia stared.
“This looks familiar.”
Raymond smiled.
“The preserve ended up surprisingly close.”
“Dad would be unbearable about that.”
“He would say we wasted twenty years.”
“He’d be right.”
Raymond looked toward the lake.
“Yes.”
Silence.
Then he said:
“I’m sorry.”
Nia had heard him apologize before.
But this sounded different.
Not because he finally found better words.
Because he no longer expected forgiveness to be part of the transaction.
“I know,” she said.
Raymond nodded.
“That’s enough.”
He walked toward the dock.
Madison watched him.
“He’s changing.”
Nia looked at her.
“So are you.”
Madison made a face.
“Don’t say emotional things before noon.”
Chloe laughed.
Nia’s phone buzzed.
A calendar reminder.
Dad — anniversary.
She deleted the reminder.
Not because she wanted to forget.
Because she did not need a device telling her when to remember him.
He was everywhere here.
In the red lure.
The repaired tackle box.
The preserved shoreline.
The cabin.
The note.
The annoying sayings in her head.
At noon, Aaron arrived with his son, Tyler.
Nia had not expected them.
Aaron looked healthier now.
His father was serving a prison sentence for corruption and obstruction.
Their relationship remained complicated.
Private.
Aaron rarely discussed it.
He held up two fishing rods.
“Tyler says he can outfish you.”
A twelve-year-old boy looked horrified.
“I did not say that.”
Aaron smiled.
“You implied it.”
“You said she was good!”
Nia stood.
“This sounds serious.”
Tyler shook his head.
“Adults are weird.”
“Correct.”
They fished together.
Raymond caught nothing.
Madison caught a branch.
Chloe lost one lure.
Tyler caught a bluegill.
Aaron caught a small bass.
Nia caught nothing for two hours.
Madison loved that.
“Fishing legend.”
“Keep talking.”
“Maybe the fish heard about your attitude.”
Nia cast again.
The line flew.
The red lure disappeared beneath the surface.
Quiet returned.
Real quiet this time.
Not the tense silence after conflict.
Not the empty silence after loss.
Just wind.
Water.
People who knew enough truth to stop pretending they were perfect.
Nia thought about her father’s hidden note.
Do not trust Raymond Keller.
At the time, those words sounded final.
But James had written them during fear.
Raymond had failed him.
Then helped expose what happened.
People could be guilty and useful.
Cowardly and loving.
Wrong and capable of changing.
Nia no longer believed character was revealed in one dramatic moment.
Sometimes character was revealed in what someone did after the worst thing they had done.
Madison had thrown the tackle box.
Then told the truth.
Raymond had betrayed James.
Then eventually testified.
Daniel Price had accepted bribes.
Then, too late, tried to help.
Caroline had risked everything.
James had hidden too much.
Chloe had followed Madison until she finally refused.
Nia herself had spent months thinking anger was the same as strength.
It wasn’t.
Strength sometimes looked like staying long enough to hear an apology without owing forgiveness.
Sometimes it looked like saying no to twelve million dollars.
Sometimes it looked like letting the daughter of the man who failed your father sit beside you at the lake.
A tug hit the line.
Nia sat straighter.
Another.
“Got one?” Tyler asked.
“Maybe.”
She reeled.
The line pulled hard.
Madison stood.
“Don’t lose it.”
“Thank you for the expert advice.”
Nia reeled again.
A large bass broke the surface.
Everyone shouted.
She laughed.
Real laughter.
She brought the fish close, removed the lure carefully, held it long enough for Tyler to take a photograph, then lowered the fish back into the water.
Madison looked confused.
“You’re releasing it?”
“Yes.”
“That thing is huge.”
“Exactly.”
The bass disappeared.
Nia wiped her hands.
Her father always released the biggest fish.
“Leave something worth coming back for,” he used to say.
She had once thought he only meant fishing.
Now she understood.
A place.
A reputation.
A relationship.
A community.
Truth.
You did not have to take everything just because you could.
Charles Mercer never understood that.
Northstar never understood it.
Maybe that was why they lost.
Late in the afternoon, everyone began packing.
Nia stayed.
Madison looked over.
“You coming?”
“In a minute.”
Madison nodded.
No argument.
They walked up the path.
Nia remained beside the lake.
She opened the tackle box one last time.
Under the lid, she had added a new note.
Not hidden.
Taped where anyone could see it.
DAD,
THEY FOUND THE LEDGER.
MERCER WAS CONVICTED.
CAROLINE’S TRUTH CAME OUT.
THE LAKE IS PROTECTED.
RAYMOND IS STILL ANNOYING.
MADISON IS LESS ANNOYING.
I’M OKAY.
LOVE,
NIA.
She closed the lid.
Then cast once more.
The lure landed near the reeds.
Exactly where James taught her.
The sky had started turning gold.
Nia whispered:
“Still fishing together, Dad.”
The line drifted.
No dramatic pull came this time.
No hidden message.
No stranger watching from the trees.
No phone call.
Nothing happened.
And for once, nothing happening felt perfect.
Nia leaned back in her chair.
The lake became quiet.
May you like
Truly quiet.
And she finally had the peaceful afternoon she had been waiting for.
