"--don't just throw the damn thing around now, hold on." He catches the rod with his palm, leans back away from the tail end so I doesn't clip him in the face.

"If you want breakfast, you've gotta do this right."

He slides his hand down, nudges up against the spigot so her grip shifts into something lighter, something he can direct. "Drop that end in the water, get the line wet so it don't lock up on you."