One of the problems Marvin Pincus discovered about running the Fly Tying Love Center here in the valley is that there appeared to be more fly tying than love counseling going on.

This particular morning, he was whipping up a nice fluffy Adams dry on a number 12 and wishing everyone’s love problems were as easy to solve as tying one of these. He takes silent pride in being a pioneer in this field of combining fly tying and romance solutions, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t quietly hope for his neighbors to have more love problems. His advice had worked well with Dewey (a lead-wire-wrapped wooly bugger leading to the suggestion he showers before he asks a girl out on a date), and with Randy Jones (a pheasant-tail nymph and a Parmachene Belle sending him on his way to girlfriend happiness with Katie Burchell). But there were others out there. There had to be others.

The counselors who just sit there taking notes managed to find any number of unhappy potential love victims.

“Marjorie,” Marvin said over coffee, “maybe if I offered an incentive, you know? Some little extra that would bring them in for advice?”

“Like what, Honey?”

“Maybe taking some flies that I tied for them and making earrings out of them?”

“The men around here don’t really take to wearing earrings.”

“I mean, for the women … you know. Women are the emotional ones who need love advice the most. Everyone knows that.”

“How many clients have you had so far?”

“Well, two.”

“Both of them were …?”

“Men, true. But I’m not sure what I could offer the guys except the flies themselves to use to go fishing.”

“That sounds good.”

“And the earrings?”

“We could get you some of those fasteners for the earrings, and it would probably be a good idea to cut the points and barbs off them.  And I could wear a pair just to start the neighbor ladies talking about it.”

“Good idea! I’ll tie you up a few right now.”

“In that case,” Marjorie told her husband, “I’ve got the ladies club luncheon today and I planned to wear the red outfit…”

“Royal Coachman streamers on number fours! Honey, you’re the best.”