A moment later Marcellus had pushed the canoe away from the dock, the front of the boat plowing across the smooth surface of the water. There was a paddle at Midge’s feet, and the memory of summer camps in her youth finally came back to her; she grabbed the wooden instrument with both hands and stroked the water on her left before realizing her grip was wrong. Moving her left hand to grasp the handle in a claw, she began paddling in what she hoped look like a more appropriate manner.
“I’m surprised you came out here.”
“Why?” It was the only safe response she could think of to the surprise question from behind.
“Because you’re more into fishing than any of us.” Midge wondered how long she would have to maintain this charade. “Except Tosh, that is. But everybody else is just here to party.”
Midge mentally slapped herself for not noticing Marcellus had not brought any fishing gear onto the canoe. She noticed they had paddled to the middle of the lake. “So that’s why you’re here? To party?”
Marcellus’ casual laugh blended with the soft sound of his paddle propelling into the water. “I got better things to do with my life, than party with Tosh.”