5
Capri carried the fishing poles and tackle box out to her prized pickup, a bright red Dodge D150 Adventurer ‘Lil Red Express Truck she’d brought home from an auction in Denver, all tricked out with oak wood panels, gold pin-striping over the wheel wells, and dual chrome exhaust stacks. The vehicle was her pride and joy.
She secured the poles in the back and headed back for the house. “Okay, Dick,” she called out. “We’re all loaded up. Let’s go.”
Seconds later, her stepfather appeared on the arm of her mother. It’d only been months since his diagnosis of liver cancer, yet he was already looking frail and unsteady. Of course, the treatments were aggressive and took their toll. And they didn’t even know if the advanced chemotherapeutics would work.
One of the worst parts of the whole thing was that the doctors were almost always guessing. They were smart people, and the guesses were informed by tests and trials and years of experience, but they were guessing nonetheless.
Her mother’s face showed signs of worry. “He had a bad night, Capri.” There was no missing her concern. “Maybe you should skip going today.”
Dick scowled and shook his head. “No. We’re going fishing.” He retracted his arm from his wife’s. “In AA, we learn to live in the present. We can’t fix the past or predict the future. There’s no promise tomorrow won’t be worse. We’re going.”
Capri’s mom’s face softened. They exchanged glances, knowing Dick’s mind remained firm. There would be no changing it. “Well, then…I hope you both have a wonderful time,” she said, lightly patting her husband on the shoulder.
Capri smiled at the sweet gesture.
There was a time when she hated her stepfather. He wasn’t the kind of guy who gave you a lot to like.
For years, she’d struggled with her stepdad’s alcohol addiction. He was often mean, and his inebriated comments often pierced her armored soul, especially when she attempted to rescue her mother from his verbal assaults.
Thankfully, Dick sobered up years ago after his fourth car accident, where he put a young family in the hospital. The event served as the catalyst for some major changes in his life, not just in his drinking but in how he interacted with his family and friends. Soon, the old Dick gave way to a new version—a man who quietly gained the respect of others.
By the grace of God, she’d grown to forgive and appreciate her stepfather. He was the only dad she’d ever known…and she loved him.
Capri offered Dick her arm. “Well, then ole man…let’s go. There’s fish waiting to be caught.”
They drove out to Jenny Lake and slowly made their way down the trailhead, winding their way through a dense forest of spruce and fir. The air was rich with the scent of pine needles and fresh mountain air. Occasionally, one of them had to duck a low-hanging branch.
The hike was a short thirty minutes. They took it slow, stopping a couple of times to let Dick sit on a nearby rock and rest. As they continued their way along the trail, they passed by a crystal-clear stream that flowed down from the mountains. The water cascading over rocks created a soothing soundtrack.
“You know,” Dick said. “Some call the Tetons God’s country.”
“I wouldn’t argue with them,” she told him.
Finally, they arrived at their destination—a spot along the lake where the thick blanket of trees gave way to a shoreline of sand and gravel. An area that offered a panoramic view of the water. Long ago, Dick said it was ‘their’ spot and claimed that it was the best fishing in all of Wyoming.
Turned out he was right. It was a rare occasion that they failed to catch at least a dozen large rainbow trout that day. Of course, Dick had a secret lure…he’d thread the usual earthworm on his hook, but he added a tiny piece of colored marshmallow.
Against the background of the stunning vista, Capri laid the poles against a tree. She slipped the backpack off her shoulders and pulled a fold-up canvas chair from where it was attached with a bungee cord, opened and settled it into the sand, testing to make sure it was sturdy. “There you go, Dick.”
He looked at her, grateful, and slipped the backpack off his frail shoulders before sitting. He patted the pack with a veined hand. “Doris said she packed us some bologna sandwiches.”
“We won’t need any blasted sandwiches, Dick. We’re eating fish!”
His face broke into a wide grin. “You betcha. Fish it is!” He unfastened the pack and pulled out a bag of tiny marshmallows. “And maybe a few of these for dessert.” He winked.
They settled in, the serene environment enveloping them like a gentle embrace. Capri handed off a pole to Dick and then busied herself baiting her own. She cast her line into the water, the smooth arc punctuated by the gentle plop as the lure hit the lake. Beside her, Dick adjusted in his chair, a contented sigh escaping him as he watched the line disappear into the depths.
“You know, Capri,” Dick began, his voice low, almost lost against the whispers of the breeze, “I never thought I’d find peace like this. Not after everything.”
Capri glanced over, noting the sun casting a halo around his weary frame. “You’ve come a long way, Dick. We both have.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled softly. “Remember how you used to slam your door whenever I tried to talk to you? And now here we are, fishing together. Guess life has a funny way of smoothing out the rough edges.”
She smiled, her eyes misty. “I’m glad we got to smooth them out together.” Especially now, she thought to herself.
They sat in comfortable silence, the only sound the occasional call of a distant bird and the rhythmic lapping of water against the shore. After a while, Dick spoke again, his voice softer, reflective. “I want you to know something, Capri. I’m sorry for the pain I caused you and your mom. It took me far too long to realize the damage I was doing. But I’m grateful for the second chance. Not everyone gets that.”
