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As his little crew gathered in the cockpit to savor their seemingly magic landfall after nine days of unremittingly empty horizons, Peter was surprised when he turned and saw his shipmates giving each other a celebratory kiss.
He was instantly reminded of Kenny's confession the day they had met in Port Blakely harbor, and of the peculiar conversation Gordon and he had almost at the outset of this voyage. Mentally he sighed and shrugged his shoulders. It was none of his concern that Kenny and Gordon had evidently found each other.
Although they had mutually promised to eschew modern electronic devices such as the GPS Peter carried in case of emergency, Gordon broke out his cell phone at the first sight of land, and excitedly called Anne. The others overheard parts of his side of the conversation. "Hi, dear!. . . yes, we're fine. . .Pete says we're about ten miles outside the Straits. . . Yes, we're still at sea. . .No, we won't get to Seattle until tomorrow. . . I'll call again when we reach Bainbridge Island. . . Love you, goodbye."
When they reached Shilshole the following afternoon, Marge, Anne and the children were waiting for them. The children were dressed in their Sunday best, and as Love Boat II slowly approached the dock, they excitedly screamed and jumped up and down in welcome. The ladies were slightly more circumspect, but it was a warm day and both wore skimpy little sun dresses. Marge's was a bright yellow, that displayed much tanned skin; arms, legs and a good deal of bosom. The perfect costume for welcoming a horny crew home from the sea.
Gordon scooped all three children off the dock, while Peter took Marge in his arms. Poor Kenny seemed left out, until Marge motioned him to join their embrace. Gordon turned to Peter. "We're going to head for home," he said. "Can you tie things down here?"
Peter nodded. "Sure, you guys go on. We can take care of things. Besides, I want to show Marge the boat."
He led the way below. Marge followed him, but Kenny remained in the cockpit. Marge looked inquiringly at Peter, who nodded, so she turned and called, "It's OK, Kenny. Come on down."
Looking very ill at ease, much as he had the day Marge had pulled him from the water at Kingston, Kenny slowly came down into the cabin.
"Let's start at the stern," Peter said, "and work our way forward. Kenny, you go in first."
A comprehending grin split his face. Bending nearly double, he ducked under the bridge deck and stepped into the after cabin.
"After you, my dear," Peter said, intentionally leering as he pinched her bottom.
"This is going to be fun," she whispered, as she hurried after Kenny. "God, I'm so horny!"
"It's going to be crowded, at any rate," Peter replied, following her into the tiny compartment that was virtually filled with the double bunk mattress.
They showered together when they reached home. After dinner, while Kenny watched a ball game on TV, Marge quietly told Peter about the terrible things that had happened during his absence and how, as a consequence, she had taken Doc Porter as a lover.
