Frannie said, adjusting the edge of her wide-brimmed hat. She normally wore the hat for gardening, to protect her face from the sun’s damaging rays while she pulled weeds in her vegetable patch. She wasn’t sure what hat was appropriate fishing gear. Mosquito netting? One of those foam hats that house two beer cans and a hose for convenient alcohol consumption? As Frannie was getting ready earlier that morning, she had grabbed the first hat she could find, a pink print covered with tiny daisies. “I didn’t say fishing was romantic,” David replied. His head was covered with a baseball cap, the team logo faded from wear and the sun. He had hauled it out from the trunk of the car when they had arrived at the dock. “Just that it might bring more romance into our lives.” “All right, let me rephrase my question. How will fishing together bring more romance into our marriage?” she asked. Frannie wasn’t a lawyer, but a paralegal for a small attorney’s office. She brought out her lawyerese when she got defensive.
