The days at sea were long, but the wind held steady. I had left Cape Fear to port and made landfall through the inlet at Beaufort, NC. Exhausted, I pulled into the city marina for an overnight respite. A few icy beers at the Dock House and some damned fine guitar playing by one of the locals set me at ease. I slept like the proverbial brick. The next morning after an engine check and some slight re-provisioning, I was off through Adams Creek and into the Neuse River, ready for the pounding slog up the Pamlico Sound. A couple of anchorages and the Dismal Swamp Canal later, I pulled into the Tidal Refuge at Norfolk, VA. Sunny came down the dock as I was securing the last of the lines.
It was like a scene from a Nicholas Sparks novel. The afternoon sun sparkled through her hair like a thousand fine diamonds. She wore tight red shorts and a white tank top that shimmered with every breath. It had only been a few months, but the curves were all in their appointed places. Her skin was the color of a light walnut and I told myself there was love in the crystal blue eyes.
She bounded on board and hugged my sweaty body like I’d hung the moon. I popped a couple of cold Kaliks and we sat in the cockpit, talking, touching, and embracing.
“Oh God, T.K. It’s even better than I thought. I have four classes, two introductory, and two second level. The kids are just awesome.” She laughed, mostly at herself. “Listen to me. Now, I even sound like them. The other professors are helpful and respectful. I haven’t had anyone grab my ass yet.”
She’d had plenty of that in her former gig at The Green Parrot. Not that it wasn’t an ass worth grabbing, but it did get old. She asked about the trip. I just patted KAMALA and grinned. She planted a big slobbery kiss on the bulkhead and whispered, “Good girl,” to my noble craft.
We did some catching up. I told her the latest tales about our former dock mates. Fritz was still his grizzled sometimes gruff self, punching computer keys and making a meager, but honest living. Chris was working at West Marine. He had calmed down a bit. Now he was generally leaving the twenty year olds to the younger and more boisterous male crowd. His new pursuits were strictly mid-thirties. More experienced, he told me, but still not carrying too much baggage from ex-husbands and screaming children. Captain Sal was doing well, still catching the big ones for the tourists with fat bankrolls. I regaled my lady as long as I could with the updates on the rest of Buffett’s Roundtable, Louis, Tracy, The Whip and Miss Julianne. I finally begged off to get a fresh, hot shower. Then we ambled off to Crab Heaven, a place down the street that boasted the “Best Blue Crab on the Bay”.
After a sip or two of a good house Cabernet, we got more than a bit serious.
“I didn’t know whether you’d come, T.K. I missed you the minute I cleared Stock Island in the old Saab. I played Bruce Springsteen and cried damned near half way here. It’s only been three months, but I longed for you every day. I like it here and I like it even more since you are with me.”
I reached for her hand and said quietly, “I am.” Her blue eyes began to tear, but she blinked a few times and wiped them away with a napkin. She smiled and gripped my hand tightly for a few seconds, then withdrew it to return to the Cabernet.
“I don’t want to bug you on your first night in port, but there’s someone I want you to meet. I told her about you. I’ll pick you up after my 1:30 class and take you over to my office. You’ll like her.”
It seemed a little weird. I wondered exactly what kind of propaganda Sunny had related to the mysterious lady. I assumed she was a student. Maybe she needed help with a research paper or some other innocuous project. Anyway, it wasn’t the time to ask. I had other things on my mind and they involved one very pretty woman wearing nothing but a smile.
The crab was delicious, as advertised, and the Cab went down with a fruity bite. It was obvious our time away hadn’t dampened Sunny’s appetite. She went through a dozen fried shrimp, a double order of fries, several fat hush puppies and slaw off both our plates. As for me, after several days on the O’Day, it was nice to eat anything I didn’t have to prepare in a rolling seaway. We got back to the boat and went below. It was cool enough to light the brass kerosene lantern. It swung gently, casting graceful shadows that danced on the golden teak bulkhead.
Sunny Elgar has never been one to waste time. She had my shirt unbuttoned before I could fill the snifters with brandy. Her hands crawled all over me like an explorer creating a map. I tried to reciprocate, but she held my hands at my side and ran her tongue up and down my chest. My dad always told me a gentleman does not kiss and tell. So I’ll let your imagination do the rest of it. Forgive the clichés . . . but, thanks, I needed that.