Overboard

"Look, Connie, I don't want this to get out ... particularly among our two families. They don't need to know. It would hurt the people we care about too much ... and she's gone now ... so what's the point?"

"I know. I don't want them hurt either. I think my mother would have a heart attack, and your boys would be devastated."

Tom nodded, composing his thoughts, wondering if telling Connie was the right thing. She had guessed what her sister had done, but now she wanted to know more. He was going to have to be careful with his answer.

"I was called into RCMP headquarters for an interview. It was supposedly to put a close to their file on the ... accident. I wasn't there very long before the questions about what happened that night started all over from the beginning. They asked me to describe the events and I could see that they were comparing my answers to the statement I made to the Coast Guard that night.

"Pretty soon, one of the officers asked me if I knew a Mr. So-and-so. I forget his name. Turns out he was a senior manager in the office where Veronica worked. I'd never heard of him, so that's what I told them. Then ... I couldn't believe this ... they wanted to know if I was aware my wife was having an affair with this guy.

"Well, things went downhill from there. I was in a daze and couldn't come to terms with the idea that Veronica would cheat on me. Apparently, someone had passed along a tip to the police about the affair, but didn't accuse me of anything ... just that the two of them were awfully palsy. The police interviewed this guy, and after some tough questioning, he admitted to the affair. It had been going on for some time ... months."

"Oh, God," Connie groaned. "How could she? I can't believe she would be so stupid as to do this to you."

"Yeah ... well it was a shock to me I can tell you. I had no clue. None! In the meantime, the cops were trying to see if I had known about it and had maybe done something to Veronica."

Connie looked shocked, but sat silently, wondering what to say. In the end, she just shook her head.

"I guess that explains why you've had such a tough time getting past what happened."

He nodded. "Yes. Not only do I not know what happened to her that night, I don't know why she felt the need to cheat on me ... on the boys ... on all of us."

Again, Connie sat silently, almost about to say something, but stopping at the last second. Finally, she spoke.

"Tom, my sister has always been a self-absorbed, selfish, bitch. Before you came along, we were constantly at each other's throats. I don't know why she hated me, but she did. Maybe it was because I was an unexpected accident. I came along long after her, and I got a lot of attention from Mom and Dad. Maybe she was envious of that. I don't know, but whatever the reason, she and I didn't get along for the longest time, and I'm just stubborn enough that I wasn't going to take any of her shit ... especially when I got older.

"When you appeared on the scene, I could almost see her mind working. You were a catch. You were going to inherit your father's business some day and be a 'somebody.' It didn't hurt that you were handsome, polite, sexy, smart, well-educated, and ... oh, did I mention handsome and sexy," she said with a hint of black humour.

Tom couldn't help but chuckle. She wasn't revealing any well hidden secret about how she viewed him at that young age.

"I was helpless. Too young for you, and not very pretty at that stage of my development. No tits, no ass, braces, and some acne. But wonder of wonders, you treated me great. You never ignored me or made fun of me. Can you imagine what that did for my ego? You were Prince Charming, but I was going to lose you to the Wicked Witch of West Vancouver. I can't count the number of times I cried myself to sleep wishing I was eighteen and pretty and not fourteen and ugly.

"As I got older, she quit giving me a hard time. She had you and the life she wanted and I wasn't a threat to her."

"You were never ugly," Tom protested. "You just hadn't grown into your body yet. The braces and acne were both temporary. I remember seeing your portrait that your folks had done for your sixteenth birthday. You were very beautiful, and nothing since then has changed. You've just gotten more and more beautiful over the years. It makes it all the more surprising that some guy hasn't swept you up and stolen you away."

She looked at him again, long and hard.

"You don't get it, do you?" she said sombrely. "I was waiting for you. I was waiting for Veronica to screw up and then I'd make my move. Every time I went out with another guy, I was comparing him to you. None of them measured up. None of them were ever going to measure up to you."

Tom sat back again, a surprised and confused look on him. A length, he let out a long sigh, leaning back against the cushions along the bench.

"You waited twenty years for your sister to make a mistake?"

She nodded. "Stupid, huh. Talk about futile. Veronica never was going to make a mistake if she could help it. You were too good to let go of. When your father died, she thought she'd hit the jackpot. As time went on, she was even more sure she had. You gave her everything she wanted. New car? Sure. Big house? No problem. Vacation in Europe? When should we go? And the more you gave her, the more she began to take you for granted."

"I never knew," Tom admitted. "I guess I thought I was just giving her the things she deserved for being a loyal wife and wonderful mother. I had nothing to complain about. We had sex on a regular basis. There were no mysterious late night meetings or out of town conferences. She didn't complain about some of the long hours I was putting in when we were developing new products. I never had a hint that anything was wrong."

"The only thing wrong was Veronica, Tom. She was getting everything she asked for and it still wasn't enough. I told you, she was selfish. When she ran out of things she could ask you for, she probably thought that she could have a lover and it would be just another acquisition."

"You didn't have a very high opinion of your sister, did you?" he said sadly.

"No ... I didn't. Part of it was jealousy. She had you and I didn't. Part of it was frustration because I could see her taking advantage of you. And part of it now is anger because she betrayed you for no reason. Somehow, in the back of my mind, even back when I was a teenager, I knew she would do something like this. I never envied her about anything other than being with you."

"And now she's gone," Tom said looking at her intensely.

"Yes. She's gone, and I'm still here ... and ... I don't have a clue what to do about it."

Tom leaned back again and closed his eyes.

"It's too soon, Connie. Too soon for me to even get my head around the future. I admit, I'm attracted to you too. When I'm alone and thinking back on my life with Veronica, I find now I'm picking it apart, looking for things I didn't like, or didn't feel good about. Now that I know, it's like I'm undermining the foundation of all my beliefs about my marriage and I don't like what it's doing to me. Maybe I need therapy. I've been thinking about that too."

"Are you serious? Do you really think you need professional help?" she asked incredulously.

"I don't know. I might just go and see what a doctor thinks. I'm not anxious to do it, but I've got to get my life back on track sooner or later. I've got the boys to think about, the plant to run, and ... other things too."

She moved beside him and hugged him closely.

"I'm sorry, Tom. I didn't mean to unload all this on you right now. I had no idea my sister had done this to you. Now I'm the one being selfish. I'll back off until you feel better about it. I've waited this long ... a while longer won't make much difference," she said sadly.

Tom wrapped his arm around Connie, squeezing her to him. He was confused about his feelings for her. Was it sisterly love, or something else? Was it too soon or was he just denying what he might be feeling for her? He needed to get those things straight in his head before he did something that might have disastrous consequences.

They finished the bottle of wine and sat quietly on the benches in the stern. Not close enough to be touching, but not far apart either. The stars had begun to appear, and the occasional satellite made its way slowly across the sky. It always fascinated him to see a man-made thing hundreds of miles up in the vacuum of space, constantly orbiting earth. It would be one of literally hundreds of like devices, some in stationary orbit, watching us, photographing us, unseen to the naked eye.

The cove was quiet as it always was at night. Now and then a jet from Vancouver International would climb overhead, going who knows where, its lights flashing against the black sky. The birds had retired, but the insects were still active and it was time to button up the cockpit and go below. They would rise early tomorrow morning as they always did, not wanting to waste another sunny, summer day.

Tom slept in the forward stateroom and Connie chose an aft guest stateroom. There were two staterooms aft, separated by a modesty panel, and Tom's father had cleverly designed another bunk by modifying the galley table top to tilt. They could sleep seven comfortably, but seldom did. In the past few years, usually it was five, with Tom and Veronica, the boys, and sometimes Connie.

Chapter 4 A Change in the Weather

Sunrise was near five-thirty on Sunday, and the light in the cabin woke Tom shortly thereafter. He lay in his bunk, knowing he wouldn't go back to sleep. Wearing just a t-shirt and his briefs, he grabbed some fresh underwear from his bag and moved to the forward head, beginning his morning ritual. This head was the only one with a shower, so he quickly used the facilities, shaved, and showered, knowing Connie wouldn't be much longer in her bunk.

When he exited the tiny facility, Connie was standing in the galley wearing a translucent dressing gown, busily making the coffee.

"Good morning," he said with a smile.

"Hi ... sleep well?"

"Yeah ... I did, thanks. You?"

"Okay, I guess," she said, noncommittally. "We got into some heavy stuff last night. I think that was on my mind."

"Sorry to hear that. Didn't mean to drop that on you."

"I know. But ... I'm glad you told me. No one else needs to know ... but I did. Thanks."

"Sure. You want to use the shower?"

"Yeah, thanks," she said, squeezing out of the narrow galley and into the lounge.

Tom could see the outline of her clearly naked body through the thin material of her gown and immediately felt his reaction to it. He was glad her back was to him because his erection was going to be very prominent in his underwear. He would wait until Connie was in the head before going to the stateroom and putting on a pair of shorts and a clean t-shirt.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen Connie in a skimpy bikini or a tight, braless halter top. She liked to tantalize him and he was always amazed that Veronica didn't seem to care. Perhaps she knew him well enough to know that he would never take advantage of what her sister was offering. Now, with Veronica gone, his inhibitions were lowered ... perhaps to a vulnerable level.

He knew she wouldn't be interested in a big breakfast, so he would let her decide whether it would be cereal, toast, or another Danish from the pantry. Tom was accustomed to cereal, and he poured himself a large bowl of bran flakes, topped it with some raisins, and added the milk. It would keep him satisfied until noon.

When Connie exited the forward head, he turned to look at her. She was drying her hair with a towel and as she did so, he could see her full breasts swaying with her movements. The nipples were prominent against the flimsy fabric, and that erection he'd almost controlled was in full force again.

She was almost as tall as her sister at five foot eight, but definitely more solidly built. Tom assumed she got her build from her father, while Veronica got hers from her mother. Whatever the source, she was a stunning figure, and few if any men would not notice her without a lustful gaze. Her blonde hair was cut short, coming only to the base of her neck. Her pale blue eyes complemented her lightly freckled face and brilliant teeth. Her nose was a little larger than perfect, but it wasn't out of place on an otherwise beautiful face.

Tom often wondered if Veronica had envied her sister. Hearing Connie tell him about their combative younger years, he thought not. It wasn't until Tom and she were married that Connie matured into the beautiful young woman she was to become. He was glad that the two sisters had overcome their animosity. It would have made life difficult for all of them if it had carried on. Veronica was beautiful in her own, elegant way. Connie was the voluptuous, over-the-top sibling that would often drive men crazy when they couldn't interest her in them.

He watched her as she walked toward the aft stateroom. He thought she might have been putting on "show" for him, letting him know what was waiting for him if only he would ask. Perhaps it was the sly smile on her lips as she passed, looking at him briefly. Perhaps it was the seemingly exaggerated sway of her hips, despite the narrow passage. Perhaps it was just his imagination. Perhaps not.

He finished his cereal, cleaned out the bowl in the sink, and put it in the drain rack, joining last night's meagre collection of plates and utensils. Both Tom and Connie liked the minimal style they adopted on board the boat. There was a dishwasher, but it was more for larger quantities than they would use over the entire weekend.

He poured another cup of coffee just as Connie emerged from the stateroom, provocatively dressed in a very snug sleeveless t-shirt and equally snug shorts. It took only a moment for Tom to realize she was braless. It would appear that the game had begun.

"Are you going to be warm enough in that," he asked, trying to disguise his grin.

"I'll layer up if I need to," she said with a raised eyebrow. "That way, whatever goes on, can easily come off."

Tom shook his head, wondering if she was going to put on anything more than deck shoes if she didn't have to. The day promised to be a warm one according to the weather forecast, and sun block would be essential. With as little as Connie was wearing, she'd need the large economy-size container to cover her exposed skin.

He was thinking just how much things had changed in his attitude in the past month. Whatever grieving remained had ended abruptly when Veronica's infidelity was revealed. The confession that her co-worker had made to the RCMP, and their questioning of Tom's potential involvement in her disappearance had put that to rest, once and for all. He was beginning to understand that he was intellectually free to pursue other women, given a reasonable period of mourning, of course.

Ah ... that was the question. How long was reasonable? And who was he trying to please? Connie's parents? Definitely. His mother? Her too. The boys? Not as much, since they were already giving indications that they saw their father and Connie as a couple. Who then? Why not just himself? Why not be concerned about what seemed right to Tom Lynch? He hadn't even given a thought to the RCMP and what they might think. That could be a mistake.

They pulled anchor and motored out of the cove, heading WNW between North Pender Island and Mayne Island. High tide was still a half-hour away, and the winds were very light. They stayed on the motor, enjoying the early morning sun and the peaceful surroundings. Before noon, dozens of powercraft and sailboats, along with the usual ferry traffic, would clutter the seascape. But for now, they were among only a few "early birds."

They made their way through Active Pass without encountering a ferry, and were once again out in Georgia Strait, heading due north toward the entrance to English Bay. What little wind there was blew mainly on the island side, but they decided to raise sail anyway, hoping it would pick up later that morning. It looked like it was going to be a long day getting back to Fisherman's Cove.

By noon, they knew they were not going to arrive at their home port until dark unless they used the motor all the way. With just the two of them, combined with a falling tide, they would have a difficult time docking.

"Can you get someone to cover for you tomorrow?" Tom asked.

"There's just me, Tom. On the other hand, I've got my 'Crackberry' with me, so I won't be out of touch. I could handle a day off playing hooky," she smiled.

"Yeah ... I'll call the office and leave a message I won't be in tomorrow. I haven't had a day off since ... well ... for quite a while. Let's find a place to stay where we can get a decent meal."

"Ladysmith? Nanaimo?" Connie suggested.

"Nanaimo. There's a decent pub right on the harbour by the float plane dock."

"Good. I won't have to dress up."

"You'd look good in anything," he smiled, not looking at her.

"Why thank you, sir. That's a very nice thing to say to a sex-starved woman bent on tracking down her man."

"Young lady," Tom replied, "if you are sex-starved, then it is entirely your own fault."

"And just what do you mean by that, Mister Lynch?"

"Exactly what it sounds like. You know damn well you are a gorgeous woman that any red-blooded heterosexual male would lust after in a second."

"Are you telling me that you aren't red-blooded, or is it that you aren't heterosexual," she smirked.

"You know better than that," he snapped, still with humour in his voice.

"So ... what is it about me that you find ... unappealing?" she challenged light-heartedly.

"Connie! How the hell did I get myself into this conversation anyway?" Tom scowled.

"Well, Thomas Lynch, if you haven't figured it out by now, I have a plan to seduce you. I have been patient ... up until now. Now, I'm going to be persistent. You don't have one single excuse for resisting me that will hold water."

Tom looked at her carefully, measuring how much was light-hearted fun and how much was serious. By all appearances, it was three-quarters serious and one-quarter fun. Not only that, she had thrown down the gauntlet, and he had to decide whether to pick it up. If he did, everything about his life at that point would change. Everything!

"Don't you think we're rushing things a little?" he managed weakly after a lengthy silence.

"No ... I don't," she said firmly. "Besides, we don't have to advertise our personal lives. I live alone, and the boys are almost grown up and out of the house. I've waited for you for twenty years, Tom. I don't think I can handle being patient much longer. I'm not some horny teenager with raging hormones. I'm a thirty-three year old woman whose clock is ticking louder and louder each year. I want you, and I want at least one child by you. Can I make it any clearer than that?"

The look on Tom's face told the story. Connie had never been so direct and forceful with her desires. She held nothing back, even going so far as to declare her want for his child ... or children. Starting a family all over again? Could he handle that? He was completely nonplussed by her declaration.

"No ... I guess not. You've pretty much laid it on the line."

"So?"

"What am I supposed to say?" he asked, bewildered by the last few minutes.

"You are supposed to say that you've lusted after my body for at least the last fifteen years and that you can't wait to get me into your bed the fuck my brains out."

Tom could detect the return of Connie's offbeat sense of humour once more.

"Oh. Anything else?" he asked warily.

"One step at a time, Tom," she grinned. "One step at a time."

Tom turned back to the windscreen and stared out over the bow, seeing nothing as his mind swirled from Connie's frontal assault. Connie wisely said nothing, allowing him to handle her aggressive attack on his senses.