Steph and Don

Over the next few weeks, Kevin became my fuck buddy. We had a long talk and I explained where I was and how it would be. I wasn't close to being ready for an exclusive relationship. I wasn't surprised at his response. He was young enough that he was enjoying the single life. It ended up with us getting together one or two times a week. It was always at his apartment and I never stayed all night. He was what I called safe.

******

I stood on the pier looking at my sailboat. Everywhere there was a place for seagulls to roost, there was a pile of shit below it. It was disgusting. I needed more than a hose and brush. I walked back up to the boat works and talked the guys out of a pressure washer. Thank god it was on wheels. I spent the next two hours blowing shit off of my boat. I unlocked the door to the cabin and looked in. I had some work to do.

After three days I had her all cleaned up and ready to sail. I was ready for my shakedown cruise. I took her out and relearned how to sail. A year off showed in my skills. After a few trips it all came back and I handled her like I did before. I felt pretty smug.

It's been two months since I cleaned up my sailboat. I've just returned from a three day cruise and I was snubbing the cover on my main sail. I glanced toward the harbor entrance and a trimaran was coming in. It looked it had been through some tough times. There were sails and lines laying in a heap on top of the cabin and it was dismasted. There was a Coast Guard motor launch towing it in. I watched and went to the slip where they were tying it up. The guy that appeared to own it had a wild look on his face. I helped get it tied up and asked him what happened.

"That damned Bermuda Triangle got me."

"Sure made a mess. You OK?"

"Hell no. I'm never going out there again."

"What happened?"

"I was cruising along just fine when all of a sudden, it got really dark and all hell broke loose. I dove down in the cockpit and it hit. The mast snapped off and all the sails fell on me. I thought I was gonna die. When I got out from under them, it was all calm again. I think it was some kind of a vortex I've heard about. They just appear and then they're gone."

"You're never going out again?"

"Nope. This boat in now officially for sale. I've had it with sailing."

I thought it might be nice to move up to a bigger sailboat, but I wondered how much damage it had. I had seen Catamarans around, but this was the first trimaran I had seen. I knew exactly nothing about them.

"What's your asking price?"

"I haven't decided yet."

"I might be interested. Do you mind if I have someone check out the damage?"

"You do that. I'll probably be taking the best offer."

The next day I contacted the boat works and set up an appointment for an inspection. I met the owner at the pier.

"Ah yes. This one is a beauty."

"You know about it?"

"Oh yeah. I built her. She was mine for a while till I ran into some hard times and I had to sell her."

After looking it over he said: "It mostly rigging and a mast. That guy is a real hot rod. He always runs to much canvas. It's a wonder he didn't flip her. See that spinnaker. It's way to big for this boat. An asymmetrical spinnaker is perfect for this boat. You don't need a spinnaker pole with them. You can run it off the bowsprit.

"He said he ran into a vortex, what ever that is."

"It's a Bermuda Triangle myth. I can tell he was running too much canvas and ran into a rain squall. Any other sailboat would have flipped. I overbuilt this one. I wanted something that would last for a long time.

Three weeks later I was the proud owner of the Wind Jammer, a forty foot trimaran. It was an open style with trampolines between the main hull and the floats. It was only 3 years old so it had pretty good electronics.

I gave Jake Carte Blanche to fix her up. He even fixed me up with a main mast that could furl the sail. He explained that it was great for one man sailing. He had it all repaired in ten days and I wrote him a check in five figures.

For the next month I set out to learn how to sail her. I found a guy with time on his hands that had experience with them and he spent two weeks with me showing the idiosyncrasies I would have to deal with. I went out in some pretty rough weather just to learn to go with short sails. It was a lot like sailing a mono hull, but with more options. The one thing I learned I could run close hauled about thirty degrees off the wind. It was more like forty with my mono hull.

True to my nature, I all but moved aboard her. I found myself tunneling into it too much. I was obsessed with keeping it clean inside and out. Any little thing that even looked like it would need repairing, got done immediately. I kept reminding myself I was getting a life but I could tell it was going to be a hard transition. To give myself a reason to back off from too much sailing, I joined the yacht club.

I hadn't socialized in years, so I had to fall back to my college days mentality. It was like they say, once you know how to ride a bicycle, you never forget.

I started out easy, having an occasional lunch and dinner, meeting a few people. Soon, word got around I was single and the women started bringing their single friends in to meet me. Apparently playing cupid was considered great sport among the married women.

"There's this handsome guy you need to meet. He has a sailboat and I hear he's loaded."

At first I felt like the antelope being chased my the Cheetahs. I wised up fast and started skimming the cream off the top. The ones that wanted a relationship got brushed aside. I made it clear right from the get go that I wasn't ready for anything long term. The ones that wanted to play and were hot, got the full treatment. I invited them to go sailing and it was always prefaced with, "swim suits optional." A little sun screen applied strategically got them in the mood. Sometimes it was just a day at sea and a few rated an over night trip. As the expression goes, I was getting more ass than a toilet seat.

***

Every now and then when I was sailing alone, Steph would creep into my mind. On this particular day I was on a starboard reach about halfway between Miami and The Bahamas. The wind was at about fifteen knots and I was flying my asymmetrical spinnaker. I could hear the wind in the rigging and the gentle shushing as she cut through the water. I had the stereo on an easy listening satellite station.

I had been more or less in denial about the breakup. I guess I didn't want to admit what had caused it. My thoughts went back to the beginning of our marriage and the fond memories filled my mind. As was my nature, I started analyzing what had happened, one step at a time from the day we met to the day she left. The more I thought, the more I realized that she was right.

I had tunneled into the business so deep that I really I didn't consider what was happening in our marriage. I was on a success high. It was like a drug and I kept wanting more and more. Anything that got in the way, got pushed to the side.

Loyal Steph and stayed by my side, enabling me until she couldn't do it any longer. She had brought it to my attention once and I ignored her. I did the second worst thing you can do to your spouse. I took her for granted.

I got on myself pretty hard for the next few days. I stayed away from the marina, just sailing around. I didn't want people around. I wasn't fit to interact with anyone.

Finally, I had to go back to port. I ate my last can of cold pork and beans and only had a gallon of fresh water.

As I was tying up, I felt a little better. I thought about looking Steph up and apologizing, but I figured that last thing she needed was me bringing up the past. I was sure she had moved on and didn't want to hear from me. By now, I was sure I just a bad memory for her.

I went below and stopped up short. I had been so occupied with beating myself up I had let things go, big time. The whole place was a mess. The sink, counter and table was full of dirty dishes. The trash was full and there were clothes all over the place.

I attacked the dishes and trash first. I started in on my clothes and noticed how they were getting worn out. Frayed collars, stains and even some with holes. I made a heap of the worst on the bed. I needed to go shopping.

After a quick buzz with my electric razor, I got dressed in some decent clothes. I grabbed the plastic bag of rags and headed out. On the way to my car, I dropped the bag in the dumpster.

***

I locked my car and walked into the mall. I chuckled when my stomach let out a loud growl. I realized it had been a while since I had eaten. The food court would take care of that. Shopping could wait.

When I got close to the food court, I saw her. Steph was standing next to the rail that surrounded the tables. She seemed to be waiting for someone. She looked a little different. She was wearing beige slacks and a frilly white blouse. A matching jacket over arm. The big change was her hair. It was longer than I remembered her wearing it, and it had blonde highlights. I glanced at her left hand and didn't see a diamond on it. It looked like the single life was agreeing with her. She looked better than I remembered.

I stood there wondering if I should run or go say Hi. She solved the problem for me. She turned her head toward me, her eyes locking on mine. She had a questioning look with her brow furrowed. Then, her mouth fell open and I saw her mouth the words: "Oh my god. Don." Her hand covered her mouth.

There was nothing left to do but walk up to her.

"Hi, Steph. How are you?"

"Don. I'm OK. You look so different. It took me a second to recognize."

"Yeah, I noticed that. I recognized you right off."

"I'm surprised you aren't wearing a suit and tie."

"Well, things have changed. I sold my company. I'm currently unemployed."

"Really, you sold out. I would never have guessed that. You loved your job so much."

"That's true, I did, but I got an offer I couldn't refuse."

"A really big change for you. What are you doing with yourself now?"

"I've been sailing some. I even joined the yacht club."

"That explains the tan. Gives you that rugged outdoor look."

"You still working in the court system?"

"I have no choice. Judge Cavanaugh told me if I quit he would hold me in contempt of court."

"Smart man. He knows your worth."

Just as I thought about going into my apology diatribe, she looked over my shoulder. The guy she was waiting for walked up and stood next to her.

"Don, this is my friend, Kevin. Keven, my uh mm ex husband, Don." We shook hands, without having a "who can squeeze the hardest" pissing contest.

"Kevin."

"Hey, Don."

He put his arm around her back and pulled her against him. He kissed her full on the mouth.

I thought: 'Yeah, mark your territory.' I needed to leave.

"It's nice seeing you again, Steph."

"It's good seeing you too, Don."

I quickly decided to mess with Kevin.

"Nice meeting you, Ryan. Maybe I'll see you around."

Kevin didn't say a word. His jaw muscles were clenched too tight. I turned and walked toward the Panda Express.

I got in line and glanced at them walking away. Kevin took hold of her arm, just above the elbow like he was leading her away. She looked up at him and jerked her arm free. I had to smile.

I got my food, found an empty table and tried to control the thoughts racing around in my brain. I shoved the food down my neck without even tasting it. My brain was overloaded and I needed to get somewhere so I could sort out my thoughts.

I stopped at a supermarket on the way back to the marina. I quickly bought enough for a few days. My mind wasn't on food. I needed to be where I did my best thinking. On the water with no distractions.

Two days later I was about fifty some miles east of Miami, on a broad reach. Having sorted out my thoughts, I was sitting behind the wheel periodically checking the sails.

I came to two conclusions and I hoped they were right. I was pretty sure Steph and Kevin weren't into a heavy relationship. By the way she pulled out of his grasp told me he wasn't in control. At best they were friends with benefits. The look on her face when she recognized me told me she didn't have any hard feelings toward me. I wondered if she would consent to us talking. I needed to apologize. It would go a long way in helping me deal with the guilt I was feeling.

***

I don't think Kevin noticed, but I had steam coming out of my ears. He had stepped over the line. As we were walking away, he grabbed my arm, pulling me toward the exit. I looked up at him and pulled out of his grasp.

"What?"

"We need to talk, but not here."

"Talk about what?"

"I said, not here."

I waited till we were outside and walked away from the entrance. I turned and looked him in the eye.

"What the hell was that little exhibition in there?"

"What exhibition?"

"When you grabbed me and kissed me. That wasn't for me. It was for him."

"Oh that. I was letting him know I was your boyfriend."

"And where did you get that idea that you're my boyfriend. I'm surprised you didn't urinate on my leg to mark your territory. You don't own me, Kevin. Our relationship was strictly friends with benefits. We weren't exclusive or anything close to it. Did you ever wonder why I never invited you to my place or why I never stayed all night at your place?"

"I never really thought about it."

"I never wanted anything close to having a boyfriend. All we had was a night out and some sex now and then. I'm sure I made that clear when we first hooked up."

"You said, 'had'. We're not breaking up over this, are we?"

"Yes we are. We're history. You overstepped the boundary in there and it's over."

"But, Stephanie. I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I promise."

"You won't do it again, because I won't be seeing you again. Listen closely. It's over."

I took out my phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling a Uber. I need a ride home."

"I'll take you home."

"You're not taking me anywhere. I'll find my own way home. This ends here and now."

He just stood there, in disbelief. Finally, it registered that I meant what I said. With his head down and his shoulders slumped, he walked back toward his car. He looked like a little boy that had just dropped his ice cream cone in the dirt.

***

On the way home, my mind was in a muddle. I was running from one thought to the other almost in a panic. Inside of a half hour I had broken up with Kevin and Don was back in my mind. I kept hopping from one to the other. My life was about to change and I needed to settle down and sort things out.

I got home and changed into my usual, around the house, clothes. Panties and t shirt was my normal attire. I poured a glass of wine and sat in my favorite chair. I turned on the TV for some background noise.

I kinda felt sorry for Kevin. I had been a little harsh with him. I knew it was because of the way he kissed me in front of Don. He must have developed some feelings that weren't allowed. I wasn't too concerned about him. He would recover. He was young enough and good looking enough to find solace in the arms of someone else. The sting of my rebuke wouldn't last long.

Now, Don was another thing completely. I didn't want to admit it, but I still had some feelings for him. Maybe, without knowing it, it was why I didn't develop any feelings for Kevin.

The big thing I was thinking about with respect to Don was the fact that he had sold his company. It was what had taken all of his attention away from us and now it was gone. I wondered how he was handling his habit of micromanaging everything. It would be pretty hard to micromanage a sailboat. I kept going back to the thought; he sold his company.

Without realizing it another thought crept in. He was good looking, single, rich and was a member of the yacht club. Women must be throwing themselves at him. A jealous thought hit me. He was probably fucking them in the very same bed we made love in. I brought myself up short on that thought. I was the one that walked out the door and I didn't have the right to be jealous.

By the look of him, I realized he was a different person now. Gone was the suit he wore every time he left the house. He was a very successful business man and dressed the part. Now, he was wearing slacks and a three button shirt. Completely out of character for him. That rugged look he had from the salt air and the tan to die for made him look like anyone but the old Don. I wondered if I would ever have a chance to meet the new Don. I thought about calling him for a lunch date, but brushed it aside. I was the one that walked out and closed that door.

***

Once I made the decision to call Steph, it took me an hour to screw up my courage. I had to do it. I checked my laptop for her number, hoping she hadn't changed it. I entered it in my sat phone and pressed call.

"Hello."

"Hi Steph. It's Don."

"Hi, Don. How are you."

"Kinda good. I ah mm, damn, this is hard. Would it be possible for us to meet and talk?"

"I don't see why not, Don."

"Well, I don't want to cause any trouble with your boyfriend."

"Don't worry about that. He's was just a friend. Where and when?"

"Right now, I'm about fifty miles east of Miami. Tomorrow is Sunday. Maybe at the yacht club for lunch?"

"That sounds good. About noon, then."

"Perfect. I'll see you then."

"Bye, Don."

"Bye, Steph."

I pushed end call and took a deep breath. That wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. I had to chuckle at myself.

With right full rudder I spun her around. I was on a broad reach to port, so I shook out my spinnaker. I chuckled at myself again. I had plenty of time to get back before dark, but I wanted to hurry. I sat back in the cockpit and relaxed. In my mind, I was rehearsing what I would say.

Then a thought hit me. I sold my company and had more money than I would ever spend. Steph had been with me from the start. Her organizational skills had helped me immensely. She had stayed with me, supporting me, till she couldn't. I owed her half of my fortune. When she left, she hadn't wanted any of it, even though she was legally entitled. I hoped she would accept it. She had earned it and it was the right thing to do.

***

Oh by God. Don called and wants to talk. What could he possibly want to talk about. It had been more than a year since I walked out. All kinds of scenarios came to mind, but none made much sense. I could only wonder.

What do I wear? I almost ran to my bedroom. I threw open my closet doors and started pulling clothes out. Maybe, no, possibly, no way. Yacht club? What's correct for lunch at a yacht club? I stepped back realizing I was acting like a freshman school girl who had just been asked out by the hunk quarterback of the football team. I calmed my self and realized I didn't want to dress for the other women there. I wanted to dress for Don.

Then it hit me. Maybe, just maybe, he wanted us to start seeing each other. Maybe he wanted us to get back together. My heart lurched at that thought. The flip side to that coin was he wouldn't even go there. I had probably hurt him too much. I remembered that I came out of the blue with the divorce. There were too many what if's and maybes to even consider. I would just have to wait and see.

I needed to wear something that would make him notice, but nothing over the top. I settled on casual but nice. After twenty minutes I picked out a nice pair of slacks and a white frilly blouse. Then I remembered a heart on a gold chain he had given me on our third anniversary. The heart had diamond chips around it with a small pearl hanging in the center of the heart. The matching earrings were just small hearts. I wondered if he would recognize them. Maybe it will let him know I'm glad to see him.