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trend hadn’t yet hit Canada, he thought.
    A few minutes later he was on his way back to the clinic when he saw a shop on the other side of the street called The Sportsman’s Outfitter. In the windows he saw several posters with people fly-fishing in rivers and streams. After his disastrous attempt at fly fishing, he thought he’d check and see how much it would cost to go with a guide.
    It was quiet inside, except for Jimmy Buffett’s “Margaritaville” coming from a small speaker on top of a filing cabinet. Posters, photographs, and maps covered the walls around the store and in the front of the store were several long tables filled with brochures and photo albums.
    Luke could faintly hear a woman’s voice coming through an open door on the back wall. The voice got louder and a woman stepped through the door.
    “Those days are available. How many will there be?”
    She wore khaki shorts, hiking boots, and a purple polo shirt. She stepped over to a desk and opened an appointment book and as she bent forward to write, her long black hair fell forward, blocking her face.
    “Did you say four? Is everyone over eighteen? Has everyone been fly fishing before?” she said, glancing at Luke and making eye contact.
    “Yes, sir. All I’ll need to hold the reservation is a credit card number.”
    She held up one finger and mouthed the words, “I’ll be with you in a second.”
    Luke smiled and nodded, then shifted his position to see her more easily. She was about Bonnie’s height, looked to be in her mid-thirties, but definitely heavier because she filled out her polo shirt much more than Bonnie. When she quit writing and looked back at him, he realized he was staring at her and looked back at the brochure and started reading about fly fishing.
    For the next few minutes she answered the caller’s questions, glancing at Luke every half-minute or so with an apologetic smile.
    Luke walked around the store looking at posters and maps, glancing at her occasionally. She was a very attractive woman. After a few minutes she put the caller on hold and turned to Luke, “I’m sorry, but this is going to take longer than I thought. Some folks from Arizona are booking a fishing trip and they have a jillion questions. Can you wait a few more minutes?”
    Luke looked at his watch. “Maybe I should come back later. I just wanted to see what kind of fly-fishing trips you have.”
    “Don’t go, I’ll be done in a few minutes,” she said, moving towards him. “I know all the best places and you won’t find anyone around here that can catch more trout than I can.”
    Luke was surprised. “Really? Are you a guide?”
    “I am!” She spoke with a playful arrogance. “If you go fishing with me you won’t be disappointed. We’ll have a great time and catch a lot of fish, too. I promise.”
    “That’s what I’m looking for...” he glanced at his watch again, “but I’d better be going.”
    “Okay then. I’m Lauren,” she said and reached out to shake his hand. “I’m the owner.”
    He accepted her firm grip. “I’m Luke. I’ll try to catch you a little later.”
    She released his hand and said, “Where are you from, Luke?”
    “Texas.”
    “I pegged you as a Texan as soon as you opened your mouth.”
    “Well, I guess I do talk a little different from y’all.”
    In a mock Texas accent she said, “Y’all shore do talk different than we do up here.” Then she giggled. “But I like it.”
    Luke felt his cheeks redden. “I guess I’d better quit talking and let you get back to your phone call.”
    She wanted a commitment. “Now, you are going to come back later, right?”
    “Yes, ma’am, I’ll try.”
    “Don’t call me ma’am, okay.” She was firm, but smiling. “Just call me Lauren. And what do you mean you’ll try? You said you’d come back, right?”
    Now embarrassed, he got a little flustered. “I’m sorry. I won’t, but I will.”
    Puzzled, she said, “You won’t, but you will? You’re