“You’re all work today, miss. Here, I’ll prop the poles into the stands.”

“Stands? That’s how you fish—just stick rods into stands? That’s not real fishing. Here, let me put one out into the water.”

“We aren’t pulling in pickerel here, Annie. We’re in about a hundred and forty feet of water, and we’re hoping for the big one. Wahooo! My line is pulling!” Johnny cut the motor on the boat and pulled the rod that had arched into an upside-down U out of its holding stand. The line stretched, and Johnny pulled and wound the spool. Pull and wind. Pull and wind. Johnny and the fish fighting it out.

Annie watched Johnny’s strong arms, watched his mouth tighten, watched his hands tremble like those of a little boy on Christmas morning.

“Grab the net!”

“What? No!”

“Grab the net. I’m going to pull him along the right side here. Put the net into the water. Hurry!” Annie grabbed the green net by the handle and put it into the water.

“I think you should do this.”

“I can’t! I gotta move the fucker over your way. Man, he’s heavy. We got ’im. A big one!”

“Johnny, this is too much pressure. If I don’t get him in the net, you lose your fish and . . .”

“Ssh. Here he comes. Make sure he goes in head-first. There, he’s in. Now lift him. Lift!”

Annie pulled as hard as she could and turned the net handle over to Johnny. “I can’t. He’s too heavy.”

Johnny put his rod onto the floor of the boat and lifted the big fish into the air. The big salmon flip-flopped inside the net as Johnny gently placed it onto the bottom of the boat. Johnny let out a huge hurray and grabbed Annie by the waist. He hugged her close and said, “Kiss?”

Annie put her face forward and allowed him to give her a small peck, but Johnny pulled her in closer and softly placed his lips against hers. He let them linger there. It was pure heaven. The fish slapped its tail hard against Johnny’s ankle in approval. Annie and Johnny felt a small splash fly up toward them.

They pulled away from one another. When they got back to shore, Johnny carried his big fish up to the weighing station. He was proud, and Annie was enjoying his happiness. Johnny slid the bottom lip of the salmon onto the big hook. It weighed just over fifteen pounds. Johnny felt like a champ as Annie took photo after photo. A young blonde woman came along and asked, “Is that a real fish?”

Annie held her hand tight against her mouth to stop her laugh from falling out. Johnny looked over calmly and said, “Yes, ma’am, that’s a real fish.”

“Oh, wow! Can I, like, take a picture of it?”

“Go right ahead.” Johnny looked over at Annie and winked.