I‘m sure the waitress thought we were insane and maybe we were, but I felt free and decadent, like this is what adults did. When we were done, we just sat and watched the water. There was a drawbridge just off the slips. A bell began to clang, and then the bridge split as some kind of big white boat approached. Mr. Anderson had his feet up on his bench. His chin rested on the points of his knees as he stared at the boat floating by. ―I used to boat all the time,‖ he said, a little dreamily. ―A walkaround.‖ A brief glance my way. ―The kind Quint had in Jaws. Kathy never liked it, just never got into it, but I‘d be on the water for hours, sometimes a few days. Fishing sometimes, but I was just as happy not. When I was in California, I used to dive. I even dove Lake Tahoe once, this place called Rubicon Point. I‘d never seen anything like that. The wall‘s very steep, goes straight down eight hundred feet, so far you can‘t dive to the bottom. The water‘s green at the surface and then it gets colder and bluer as you descend and you‘re still feeling okay, like what‘s the big deal, just a bunch of rocks.
