An hour later, I stepped out of the shower stall, draped a towel around my waist, and wiped the steam off the mirror. Looking at my face, I decided not to shave today. I’d look more “masculine” this way. I fumbled through the mess in the cabinet under the sink, looking for the hair dryer. I could at least fix my hair. Or was that against the straight fisherman’s rules?
As I blow dried my hair, I thought I heard the doorbell ringing downstairs. I turned the dryer off and pricked up an ear. Yes, someone was at my door. Holding the towel closed, I went to the guest room to peek at my driveway. There was a rental car parked there. A black Mazda. “Oh, my God,” I moaned, my heart jumping into my mouth. The doorbell rang again. I ran to my bedroom for my clothes, but then changed my mind and hur
