Angels Fall

eleven, went down to the kitchen to switch coffee for Coke and added a handful of pretzels. He was munching down on the first of them when his phone rang. He scowled, as he always did when the phone rang, then lightened up when the caller ID readout showed his agent.
    "Hi, Lyd. It's going good," he told her when she asked about the book. He looked at the cursor on his screen. Today it was his friend. Other days, it might be the enemy. Then he smiled when she asked if he had time to talk about the proposal from his friend. "Yeah, I got a few minutes. What did you think?"

    WHEN HE HUNG UP, he scratched around through his piles of notes for the copy he'd made of Reece's schedule. He found it between a gun magazine—research—and a printout on the plasma TV he was thinking of buying.
    He looked at the clock, back at the cursor. And decided he wasn't going to feel guilty for knocking off early.

    HE WANDERED IN TO Joanie's just as Reece was stripping off her apron. He leaned on the counter. She had her hair bundled up, and the heat from the grill had her face flushed. She looked soft, he thought.
    "You eat anything you cooked today?" he asked her.
    "Not exactly."
    "Pack something up."
    "Pack something up? What's this? Another picnic?"
    "No. It's lunch. Hey, Bebe, how's it going?"
    "I'm pregnant."
    "Ah… congratulations?"
    "Easy for you to say. You don't have morning sickness. The fun never ends." But she smiled, eased her feet by leaning on the counter across from him. "Jim's hoping for a girl this time. I wouldn't mind. How come you never ask me to pack something up, Brody?"
    "Because Jim would kick my ass. Am I supposed to ask when you're due and stuff like that?"
    "You're a guy. You're supposed to look flustered and a little afraid. And you're doing a good job. In November, around Thanksgiving. By then, I'll look like I've swallowed an entire Butterball anyway. 
    When's your next book coming out?"
    "A couple months sooner, and much less painfully."
    At the call of order up, Bebe rolled her eyes. "Well, back to the thrill and excitement of food service."
    "Lunch." Reece held up a large bag as she came out of the kitchen. "You can be among the first to sample our new and experimental paninis."
    "Paninis. At Joanie's."
    "  Et tu , Brody? You'd think I was cooking snails and calf brains— which I can do, and dehciously."
    "I'll take the panini." He led her outside, taking her elbow and steering her across the street as she glanced around for his car.
    "Where are we going?"
    "To the lake."
    "Oh. Nice idea. It's a pretty day for lunch by the lake."
    "We're not having lunch by the lake. We're having lunch on the lake." He nodded toward a canoe. "In that."
    She stood where she was and eyed the boat, a little dubiously. "We're going to sit in a canoe and eat paninis?'
    "I picked the spot, you picked the food. It's Doc's boat. He said we could borrow it for a few hours today. We're going to do a little paddling."
    "Hmmm."
    She liked boats. That is, she liked boats with motors, or boats with sails. But Reece had no idea how she felt about boats with paddles. "I bet thatt water's still plenty cold."
    "You bet right, so let's stay on it, not in it. Get in the boat, Reece."
    "Getting in the boat." She stepped aboard, balanced herself and walked to the rear bench.
    "Turn  around the other way." Brody told her.
    "Oh"
    He got in, handed her a paddle, then took the front bench. Using his paddle, he launched them from shore. "Just do what I do, only on the opposite side of the canoe."
    "You've done this before, right? What I mean to say is this wouldn't be the maidenvoyage for both of us, would it?"
    "I've done it before. I haven't bought a boat yet because I waver between a canoe and a kayak, and it 
    feels stupid to have both. Besides, there's always one to borrow without storage and maintenance hassles. You just buy the owner a six-pack or a bottle, and you're good.
    "Always an angle." She had to put her shoulder into the paddle. "Water's harder than it looks." Her muscles were already warming, and as she watched Brody paddle like a hawk watches a rabbit, she thought she had his rhythm. She could admit she liked the sensation of gliding; the boat just seemed to skim over the water. But gliding took work, and she could already feel it in her shoulders, her biceps. Time to start weight resistance again, she told herself.
    "Where are we going?" she called out to him.
    "Nowhere."
    "There again?" She laughed, shook back the hair