What was actually bothering him was that he’d almost wanted to stay and hang out with them that weekend instead of going fishing. Which was a new feeling. He looked forward to this weekend’s fishing trip every year: getting together with his best friends from high school for the once-a-year boys’ weekend. They rented out the private charter, and there was more fooling around and drinking beer than fishing, but their annual competition for the biggest rockfish added a competitiveness to the weekend and kept them all coming back year after year.

He cranked the music as he drove along the coast toward Blue Moon Bay Sportfishing. It was about forty minutes outside of town, but the owners were originally from Blue Moon Bay and had kept the name when they’d relocated down the coast years before. The sun reflecting off the ocean and the mild breeze blowing through the cabin of the truck made him feel good. Better than he had in a while.

Pulling up into the lot of the dockside sportfishing outfitter almost an hour later, he grabbed his tackle box, rod, and reel and headed down to the pier where the other men were waiting.

“Hey, man…thought we were going to have to leave without you,” Phil Parker, his best friend from high school, said as he approached. The man was dressed in a pair of fishing coveralls, rubber boots, and a Boonie hat, looking the part of a fisherman, at least, even though he held the record for no rockfish caught six years straight. The guy had as much interest in fishing as Wes had in crunching numbers, but his accountant-desk-job friend came to hang out with the old gang every year.

Wes returned his fist bump and waved to several of the others still inside the shop, buying new gear and bait. “Ran a little late dropping off Marissa.”

“How is she?”

“Nine going on thirty,” Wes said as he climbed on board the charter.

“I hear that,” Phil said. Phil was on his second marriage with seven children in their new blended family. All girls, ranging in age from eleven to six months old. If Wes enjoyed this free-from-obligations weekend, Phil needed it to survive.

“How’s the family?” he asked.

“Good. The oldest ones are doing a spa weekend with their mom, and the baby is with the grandparents.” He reached into the cooler and handed Wes a beer.

“Thanks.” He cracked the seal and took a gulp as he stared out at the water. “Perfect day for this.” The conditions looked pristine out on the water. Soft waves crashed against the boat as they baited their hooks with squid, attached the appropriate amount of weight, and prepared to drop their lines to the bottom of the ocean floor once the rest of the group boarded and the captain set sail.