Nereids Ch. 08

"But we wouldn't have time to stop at Santa Maria Bay, would we?" Beth said.

"No. We'd sail right by, waving as we went past."

Jack could tell that Beth wanted to stop at the bay. But she was still undecided, still worried about leaving her children. Part of him was annoyed, but he realized that he wouldn't find her half as attractive if she were the kind of woman who'd simply go off and leave her children. So he bided his time, and vowed to accept—gracefully, he told himself—whatever decision she made.

"Let me talk to my parents," she said at last. "And I want to talk it over with David."

Susan nodded and leaned close. "If we need to shorten the trip, we'll do it," she said softly. "And if we need to pass altogether, we'll do that too. It's not worth doing if you're not going to enjoy yourself."

Beth looked grateful.

The silence grew heavy.

"Who's ready for another drink?" Jack half-boomed, trying to lighten the mood.

Three glasses shot out with a relieved chorus of "I am."

**

"What do you think?" Beth asked. She and David were lying in bed, and she was draped over him.

"About the trip?" he said.

"Uh-huh."

"What do you think?"

"I don't want to leave Paul and Erin with my parents for ten days. Twelve, counting the flights down and back."

David merely nodded.

"But you're right," she continued into the silence. "The extra days would give Mom and Dad time to enjoy themselves. And they wouldn't wear out the kids. Besides, they probably won't even miss us after the first couple of days." Her words sounded forced.

"That's not true," David said softly, "and you know it."

"You're right," she said. "I know you're right, but I just can't stop worrying."

"What're you worried about?"

"Do you want to know the truth?" She felt him nod. "I'm worried that Erin won't remember me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

David snorted, soft and gentle. He put his arm around her.

He hadn't worn his pajamas to bed, and neither had she. His arm felt warm against her bare back.

"Do you remember how nervous Paul was at the fly-in?" he asked.

She nodded.

"He ran to me as soon as he saw me."

She smiled at the memory.

"He hadn't seen me in nine months, but he remembered me. Even Erin remembered me. She was barely a week old when I left," he continued. "But her face lit up when she saw me. She knew her father."

A part of Beth was convinced that Erin's reaction had simply been a mirror of her own, but a bigger part of her wanted to believe that David was right.

"You're her mother," he said. "She's not likely to forget you."

"You're right," she said. "Still, I feel like a bad mother for wanting to leave them for almost two weeks. I feel so… selfish."

"You're not."

"But—"

"Beth," he said, his voice gentle but firm, "you're not selfish. You're not a bad mother, either. As a matter of fact, you're one of the least selfish women I know. And the kids couldn't have a better mother. So if you're going to worry about something, worry about something else."

"I know," she said softly. "Thank you."

"If you don't want to go on the cruise, or you don't want to take ten days, just say so. You don't need a reason."

"But that's just it," she said. "I want to go, and I want to take ten days." She laughed. "I want to take two weeks! But I'd feel guilty for asking Mom and Dad to stay that long."

"They'll be thrilled."

"I know you're right," she said. "But I'd still feel guilty."

"Don't."

She smiled and kissed his chest. After a long moment's silence, she took a deep breath. David was right. She didn't want to admit it, but she probably felt guilty about why she wanted to go, not how long they'd be gone. So the problem wasn't really about the children—it was about her own fears.

She knew she loved Susan, and she didn't want to do anything to jeopardize their friendship. She couldn't imagine life without her. She couldn't imagine life if she had to hide her feelings from her best friend, either.

She took another deep breath. Then she felt an electric tingle of excitement.

"Let's do it," she said at last.

**

Jack and David flew to NAS Miramar as part of a familiarization flight. The squadron had recently transitioned to the A-4C, an older model of the plane they'd been flying. Jack didn't agree with the logic of "upgrading" to an older model, but their former planes already belonged to another squadron, bound for the Gulf of Tonkin and Vietnam.

Besides, Jack thought wryly, no one asked my opinion.

Once on the ground in San Diego, he and David borrowed lockers to store their flight gear. Then they headed to the marina. Lewis Sutherland was supposed to sail down to meet them, but Jack wasn't going to hold his breath. Fortunately, Wally Erskin had left word at the yacht club, so Jack didn't have any problems when he asked the harbormaster for the keys to the boat.

The Nereid was moored at the end of a long dock, and Jack pulled up short when he first saw her. He stood transfixed for a long moment—she looked more like a racing thoroughbred than an oceangoing cruiser. When he finally blinked to clear his starry eyes, he climbed aboard her. David joined him a moment later, but he hardly noticed.

The hull and deck were white fiberglass, with teak accents and chrome hardware. The cockpit was divided, with benches forward and the helm aft. The arrangement would keep the helmsman clear of the sheet tenders. His eyes rose to the boom and then higher still, to the masthead. He gazed upward for several heartbeats, but then followed the shrouds to the spreaders and down to the deck itself. With an eager grin, he fished the keys from his pocket.

He unlocked the main hatch and slid it open, inhaling the scents of fiberglass resin and fresh varnish. Three steps led down to the cabin itself, with a dinette to port and the galley to starboard. Light flooded the cabin through deckhouse windows, and expensive teak and white enamel shone in the diffuse light.

After a moment Jack moved forward and inspected the equipment at the navigation station. Then he stepped down to the main salon. It had seat berths to port and starboard, with fold-down pilot berths above each. He moved to the starboard berth and opened a door to reveal the boat's head. Sink, toilet, and shower were all crammed into two small spaces.

Down a short hallway to port, he reached the captain's cabin, a V-shaped room with a double berth. The small doors on the forward bulkhead probably led to the sail locker, and he knelt on the berth to open them. Sure enough, neatly bagged sails filled the small space.

"What do you think?" David called from the main salon.

"I think," Jack said, trying not to gush, "that she's beautiful."

"No kidding."

He looked around for a moment longer and then grinned like a schoolboy. "C'mon," he said, "let's head up on deck and check her rigging."

Much to Jack's surprise, Lewis showed up, only an hour late. By then, Jack was familiar with the boat, although he wanted to take her out to see how she handled.

"Whaddaya think?" Lewis asked, gesturing grandly.

Jack hid a frown. Lewis smelled like pot smoke, and his grin was slack.

"Sweet, isn't she?" Lewis continued. "I told old One-Eye that I'd love to sail her, but…" He shrugged expressively. "El Caribe awaits, man. You know?"

Jack and David shared a look that spoke volumes.

As if noticing David for the first time, Lewis wiped his hand on his shirt and held it out. "Hi, man," he said, "I'm Lewis."

David shook his hand, and Jack had to stifle a chuckle. The two men couldn't have been more different: a hippie in a Hawaiian shirt and a Naval officer in a flight suit.

"You must be in the Marines with Jack," Lewis said to David.

"We're in the Navy," Jack grated.

Lewis brushed off the correction. "Navy, Marines, whatever. You're both soldiers, right?"

"We're pilots."

"Oh, cool," Lewis said, still unfazed. Then he changed gears and gazed upward. "The guys from Glass Marine stepped the mast and did all the rigging."

Jack nodded curtly, glad to be talking about something where he didn't have to grit his teeth.

"She has a full suit of cruising sails," Lewis continued, "but Wally wanted some racing sails, too. So you've got a spinnaker, a #2 genoa, and a couple of staysails… um… a reacher and a tallboy, I think. I couldn't fit the racing sails in the sail locker, so I stowed them in the lockers in the main salon…"

Jack and Lewis spent the next half-hour going over the boat from stem to stern. Jack didn't learn many things he didn't already know, but he was glad to have Lewis confirm what he'd managed to discover for himself.

"Hey, man," Lewis said at last, "I'm starving. You guys wanna get something to eat?"

"Sorry, Lewis," Jack lied glibly, "but we have to get back to the base."

"Oh, yeah," Lewis said. "I understand, man. You've got reveille and all, right?"

Reveille is the morning bugle call, you hippie dipshit, Jack thought. Aloud, he deadpanned, "Yeah, they're strict about that in the Marines."

David quickly turned away to hide a laugh.

"That's cool," Lewis said. "I probably should be gettin' back to my boat anyway. Besides, I need a smoke. I'd offer to share, but…" He gestured at them and shrugged, as if to say "You're way too uptight."

Jack and David both turned stone-faced, silently proving Lewis's point.

Blithe as ever, Lewis didn't notice. "All right, man," he said, "I'd better shove off. Thanks again for taking One-Eye his boat."

"No problem," Jack said.

Lewis waved in final farewell. "Fair winds and following seas," he said in benediction.

Once Lewis was out of earshot, David said, "That guy makes me wanna beat some sense into him." He turned to Jack and shot him a disgusted look. "We're fighting for guys like him?"

Jack shrugged. He felt the same way, but it wasn't worth getting worked up over.

David seemed to come to the same conclusion, and shook his head as if he had a bad taste in his mouth.

Jack wanted to take the boat out to see how she handled, but he hadn't been far wrong when he'd told Lewis they needed to get back to the base. So he ducked into the cabin to close the forward skylights. Then he gave everything a final once-over and secured the main hatch.

On the dock, he paused for a moment to savor the clean lines of the boat. He closed his eyes and imagined Susan and Beth lying on the white deck, their bodies the same color as the teak.

Then he began whistling a shanty he'd learned as a boy.

With Eliza Lee all on my knee,

Clear away the track and let the bulgine run.

**

The phone rang and Susan jumped up to answer it. It was Jack, so Beth paid attention to Susan's half of the conversation. He and David had made another trip to San Diego, where they'd taken the boat out for a half-day sail. From the sound of things, they were back in Lemoore.

Beth and Susan had expected them earlier, so they'd had dinner ready since seven o'clock. But the men had called to say they'd be late. With characteristic aplomb, Susan had turned down the stove to let the spaghetti sauce simmer. Then they'd fed the children and eaten a salad to tide them over until their husbands returned.

Beth started water boiling for fresh noodles while Susan was still talking to Jack. It was after nine o'clock, the salad was a distant memory, and Beth was hungry.

"They'll be here in fifteen or twenty minutes," Susan said as she hung up the phone and began buttering bread for garlic toast. "They're tired and a little sunburned, but they had fun."

Beth nodded and reached to stir the spaghetti sauce. She and Susan worked silently for the next fifteen minutes, and Beth smiled to herself when she realized how easily they moved together.

When they men finally came through the front door, they looked exhausted. Happy, but exhausted. Beth kissed David and felt a wave of sympathy for his lobster-red face. Jack wasn't burned as badly, but his fading summer tan was a little pinker than she remembered.

After they changed into civilian clothes and washed up, they sat down to eat. They were ravenously hungry, and had two helpings of spaghetti each. Beth smiled to herself as she watched David eat—his cheeks had filled out, and she couldn't count his ribs anymore. Home life certainly agreed with him.

"I think we'll need to make one more trip to San Diego," Jack said at last, pushing his plate away and fingering the stem of his wine glass. "Next weekend."

David nodded.

"To go sailing again?" Susan asked.

Jack shook his head. "We won't have time. We need to outfit the boat."

"What does it need?"

"All sorts of things, from anchors and a dinghy to pots and pans for the galley," Jack said. "I talked to Wally, and he'll reimburse me when we get to Cabo San Lucas, but I still need to buy everything beforehand." He paused for a moment and then laughed. "No wonder Wally was so happy about me taking over from Lewis."

Susan looked a question at him.

"Lewis would've just sailed to Mexico, without a care in the world beyond what he needed to make the trip. Besides, he doesn't have the kind of money it takes to outfit a boat like Nereid. And Wally would've been hard pressed to do it in Cabo San Lucas—it's in the middle of nowhere. More important, I wouldn't trust Lewis to outfit a boat if his life depended on it. And since our lives depend on it… well… you get the picture."

Everyone nodded.

"In addition to outfitting the boat, I need to get the paperwork started," Jack continued. "I'm not the Nereid's owner, so I need a letter from Wally authorizing delivery. And since the boat is new, I have to apply to the FCC for a ship radio station license. We'll need a Coast Guard inspection, a cruising permit, insurance that's valid in Mexico… The list is endless."

"Can we help?" Beth asked.

"With some of it, yes," Jack said. "I was thinking that you and Susan could come down a day early and buy provisions."

"Shopping is our specialty," Susan said, grinning at Beth.

Beth felt a warmth in her tummy that had nothing to do with the prospect of shopping.

"David and I can take care of the water, diesel, and kerosene for the stove," Jack said, "but we'll need things like meat and vegetables, too."

Susan nodded.

"David and I can also take care of the wine and liquor," Jack said.

"Are you trying to get us drunk and take advantage of us?" Susan asked, sharing a grin with Beth.

"Trying?" Jack said, roguish and charming. "We're counting on it!"

They shared a friendly laugh, but Beth saw a look pass between Susan and Jack. It was a look full of anticipation, with a helping of desire thrown in for good measure.

**

Beth grew more and more excited as the days passed. When November finally arrived, she felt like jumping for joy. She loved her children, but she really wanted a vacation.

Besides, she thought, four people on a boat…? No bikinis…? No stress and no worries…? No phones, no lights, no motorcars…? She grinned at the last, but quickly turned serious.

"Who knows what'll happen," she said under her breath.

David looked up from packing his seabag. "Did you say something?"

He and Jack were leaving the next morning. They still had plenty of work to do on the Nereid, so they were going to San Diego two days ahead of Beth and Susan.

"Sweetheart…?" David prompted.

"What? Oh, no," Beth fibbed.

He left his packing and pulled her into his arms. "I'm really looking forward to this," he said.

"Me too."

"I think we'll have fun."

"Mmm, me too."

He paused for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. "Are you and Susan serious about sunbathing nude?"

"Mmm hmm," Beth said, soft and seductive. "You don't mind, do you?"

He started to speak, but then fell silent.

"I'm sure you'll survive. It'll be hard," she teased, "but I have faith in you." She grinned at his expression and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

Still smirking, she backed away, her eyes never leaving his. With a sudden laugh, she twirled like a little girl before the first day of summer camp.

She felt like a Nereid already, like a frolicking sea nymph who'd found her sailor. She wondered if the sailor knew that she had her eye on another nymph as well.

She laughed again, and gaily ignored David's puzzled look.

**

Copyright © 2006 Nick Scipio. All rights reserved.