We puttered through one wide turn after the next. Housing on either side of the creek gave way to fishing camps dotting only one bank; and after that, nothing but wilderness. Meanwhile, despite my lack of depth perception, I expertly avoided various hazards and would have pointed out my boating mastery to her, but for the ubiquitous presence of neon-colored buoys alerting boaters to keep a safe distance.
After slathering sunscreen on her arms and legs, Natalie joined me in the cockpit.
“This is the first time I’ve gone up Brices Creek,” she said. “It’s beautiful.”
“How can you live here and never come up this way?”
“No boat,” she said. “I mean, I’ve been on the Trent River and the Neuse River with friends, but we never came up this way.”
“I thought you don’t go out much.”
“I don’t,” she said. “Not lately, anyway.”
Though I could have asked her why, I could tell she didn’t want me to. “If you’re hungry, there are some snacks on the table.”
“Thanks, but I’m fine for now. I can’t remember the last time I had a beer, so I’m kind of enjoying this.”
She stared out at the slow-moving black water, clutching her cold bottle and basking in the sun.
“How did you know where to find the alligators?” she asked.
“I overheard some people talking when I had lunch at the Trading Post, so I decided to check it out.”
“I’ve never eaten there.”
“Believe it or not, the food is actually pretty good.”
“I’ve heard that. But it’s kind of far from where I live.”
“Nothing is far away in New Bern.”
“I know, but I spend so much time behind the wheel when I’m on duty that I get sick of driving.”
“You drove here and my place isn’t far from the Trading Post.”
“The Trading Post doesn’t have tablecloths and candles.”
I chuckled. We continued upstream, trees pushing in from the banks, the water ahead as flat as a billiard table. Here and there, we saw the occasional dock, overgrown and rotting, jutting into the creek. Above us, an osprey circled.
Natalie continued to stand beside me, and I had the sense that something had changed between us. Every now and then, she took a sip of her beer and I wondered whether she’d been nervous about our date.
Was she seeing someone else? I still thought it likely, but if that was the case, why had she come today or gone to dinner with me? Because she was bored or unhappy? Or simply lonely? And what was he like? How long had they been going out? It was also possible that she’d just been curious about the alligators and viewed me as a friend, but then why stand so close to me? She knew I was attracted to her. Common sense indicated that asking her to a second dinner in as many weekends meant something more than a desire for simple friendship, yet she’d agreed to meet me again. If she really was dating someone else, how would she explain her absence today? Did he live out of town? Was he in the military and deployed elsewhere? As usual, I had no answers.
The creek continued to narrow until we reached the boat ramp and entered the national forest. On the dock, I saw a father and son fishing; they waved as we motored past. Though I was only half-done with my beer, it was already growing warm. Leaning over the railing, I dumped the remainder and slid the empty bottle into the wastebasket in the cockpit.
“How much longer?” Her voice drifted back to me.
“Almost there,” I answered. “Another few minutes.”
Rounding the final bend, I began to slow the boat. In the treetop, I spotted one of the eagles sitting in the nest, though its mate wasn’t around. Up ahead, on the opposite side of the creek, in the small muddy clearing, were two alligators sunning themselves. They were juveniles, no more than five feet from nose to the tip of their tail, but it still felt like a stroke of luck.
“There they are,” I said, waving her over.
She ran toward the bow, vibrating with excitement.
“I can’t believe it,” she offered. “They’re right there!”
Turning the wheel, I tried to angle the boat so we could sit in the recliners and enjoy the wildlife. Satisfied, I shut off the engine, then retreated to the stern to drop anchor, feeling the rope tighten as it caught on the bottom.
By then, Natalie had pulled out her phone and begun to take pictures.
“There’s something else, too,” I reminded her. “The surprise I told you about.”
“What?”