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Annapolis, now two hours behind them, had been a great idea. Carl hadn't seen his parents in forever, and it had been even longer for Terry.
The problem was, they'd spent too much time catching up on family news, and now they were behind schedule. On the plus side, winds were favorable for a swift, straight run down the bay, toward Norfolk. Back on a six-on, six-off watch schedule, Carl had drawn first watch, and Terry was below, resting.
With winds again steadily and out of the southwest, they were nearly on a broad reach. With the sails set and full, about all Carl had to do was be alert for potential collisions; the autopilot did most of the steady work.
There was little recreational traffic out in the bay yet, and the commercial stuff stayed close to the official channels, so while he had a little spare time, and some privacy, he decided to give Amanda another call. She was probably still at home, getting ready for work about now.
"Hello?" she answered.
"Hi, gorgeous," he offered in greeting.
"Carl! It's been days! Where are you now?"
"We just left Annapolis, and I'm calling as promised."
"Oh... I didn't think you were planning to stay there that long..."
"Well, I wasn't... but my parents, and Terry's too, had other ideas."
"Terry's from Annapolis too?"
"Yeah, we grew up together."
"How nice... so you're headed for Norfolk now? Or is it Portsmouth?"
"Portsmouth, really, I often say Norfolk, just because more people know where that is, and it's close enough that it usually doesn't matter."
"I found your Tidewater Yacht Agency online. They do have a website. The marina looks nice, and they appear to have quite a few amenities."
"Yes, I've docked there a few times before, and it's pretty nice... and quite reasonable in cost, too."
"Like you care about cost... when will you get there?"
"At our current pace, it'll take about 30 hours, probably around midday tomorrow."
"It sounds as if you're moving pretty quickly."
"Well, we have to, if we're going to beat winter to Florida."
"I every confidence that you will. Look, I've got to get ready for work... you caught me putting on my makeup."
"Really? What're you wearing?"
"Not much... I just got out of the shower a few minutes ago."
"Sounds delicious!" he leered.
"Pervert!" she replied, giggling. "Now tell me goodbye, so I can finish getting ready...And call me if you change your plans."
"I'll do that. You know, you could call me once in a while..."
"I dunno, I think this system is working pretty well... I wouldn't want to call and catch you at a bad time... How long are you going to stay at the marina?"
"Just overnight. We still have a long way to go."
"Well, maybe I'll call you tomorrow night, then."
"That would be great. Only seeing you would be better."
"I've got to go now. We'll talk soon... 'bye..."
"Goodbye, sweetheart."
Amanda had just decided to do her makeup when Carl called, but hadn't really started yet. She'd told the truth about her state of dress though, she was wrapped in a pair of bath towels: one on her head, and the other around her torso.
She dropped the cell phone and fell back on the bed, her hands going between her legs, an event that occurred only infrequently in her life... the majority of them only since her date with Carl. She worried about that... After so long with no sex at all, was she becoming obsessed? He'd made a strong impression on her, and his calling, for no reason other than to talk to her, really spiked her libido. She quickly brought herself to climax, then when the post-orgasmic haze faded, she made a decision.
She bounded out of bed and hurriedly finished her preparations for work. Barry would be in for the first time in weeks, and today he was about to get an earful.
Amanda glanced at her watch, noting that the commuter flight would land on-time at 9:24 PM. She'd worked a long day, and then left Barry at the office some three hours before, after an intense confrontation over her request for some time off.
Barry didn't want to let her go, until she pointed out that she hadn't taken a vacation in the entire ten years she'd been with the company; but his reaction to that was nothing, compared to what happened when he found out where she was going!
"That slimebag goes through women like a wino goes through a bottle!" he'd angrily declared, "I can't believe you let yourself get mixed up with him!"
"Barry, he's your best friend! How can you talk like that about him?" she'd responded hotly.
"Because, best friend or not, it's true! He changes girlfriends like most guys change underwear, and I don't want to see you get hurt..."
"Awww... that's sweet... you just want to protect me...But Barry, I'm a big girl now..."
Barry, pausing, had considered her remark. "It's true," he allowed, frowning, "you aren't as young and gullible as his usual victims are..." She gave him a look that said Watch it, buddy!
"... maybe you're right..." he'd said, taking his glasses off and throwing them on his desk. "Maybe you'd even be good for each other..." Grinning, Amanda had then hugged him and given him a kiss, right on his prominent nose.
"Go on, get outah here!" he'd grumbled, blushing, " Have some fun... but you call me if that asshole gets out of hand, do you hear?"
Remembering his capitulation brought a smile to her face, but the flight attendant's voice, reminding all passengers to prepare for landing, brought her back to the present.
Leaving the gate area at Newport News, Virginia, she didn't need to go to baggage claim: she'd only brought the one carry-on bag, so she was able to proceed directly to the car rental counter in the airport.
Unlike most time's when she'd traveled before, she was in and out of the car rental process in short order. After claiming her vehicle, she pointed it south, heading for her hotel in Portsmouth, which was near the drop point for her car. When she arrived, about 45 minutes later, she was exhausted, and ready to crash for the night.
It was Terry's last watch before landfall, and she was miserable.
It had been wonderful to see her parents, but the joy of the reunion had been dampened with sadness: her father had been diagnosed with terminal cancer, and was already living on borrowed time. She'd been shocked at first, then angry that they'd withheld the news from her.
"We knew you would put your life on hold," her father had said. "We didn't want you to do that."
"So you were just going to die, and then let me find out about it?" she demanded through her tears.
Eventually though, as families do, they worked through the bad feelings, and parted company on good terms. She would have stayed, as her parents had guessed, thinking that somehow she owed it to them to be around, but they reasoned that they had gotten along fine by themselves, thus far, and there was no need for her to delay her trip. They would let her know if she needed to come home quickly. So she left with Carl, as planned, but she didn't feel good about it.
She wasn't going to tell Carl about her troubles: if he had known, he'd have insisted that she stay with her folks, even though that would have left him shorthanded. If he found out, he'd try to send her back home, and she didn't want to argue for the other side. So she just suffered quietly.
The next morning, Amanda grabbed a cup of bad coffee and a stale bagel from what passed for a "Free Continental Breakfast," provided by the hotel, and struck out for a nearby shopping mall. She had a few purchases in mind, to add to her traveling wardrobe.
She didn't have much time to shop, though, because she wanted to get to the marina by noon, at the latest. Fortunately, she's had the foresight to choose a rental company that offered customers a free post-delivery ride to any reasonable location, so upon completing her shopping mission, she took the car to the drop point.
On the way to the marina, she thought I really should have worn something more conservative... The rental-car driver was pretty young, and he seemed to want to pay more attention to her legs, than he was giving to his driving. Amanda pretended not to notice, but even though she was terrified by the risks he seemed willing to take, she was also amused and flattered.
He did deliver her safely to the marina office, however, and as a reward, she "accidentally" exposed a little more of her creamy thigh to his greedy eyes, while digging in her purse for tip money. You're turning into a regular trollop! she chided herself, Chasing after a known womanizer, and now flirting with boys... what will you get into next?
After the driver unloaded her bags, carry-on and shopping, she gave him his tip and waltzed into the marina office.
"I'm looking for my boyfriend," she said to the man behind the counter.
"Look no further," he declared, "I'm right here!"
She gave him an appraising look, but answered, "I don't think so... my boyfriend is Captain of the Pixel..."
The man stared at her in disbelief, and finally said, "That's hard to swallow..."
"Why?" she demanded, pouting. "Don't I look good enough?"
"You look good enough to eat," he declared, "but I've known Carl a long time, and I've never seen him with anyone over about twenty-four... you've got to be at least twenty-eight..."
"That's sweet, even though it is bald-faced flattery... truly, though, I'm here to see him, and it's a surprise. Has he checked in yet?"
"No, and he'd better hurry, if he wants a berth. For some reason a lot of folks are running late this year, and we're filling up fast."
"What if I prepay the slip fee?"
"Are you sure you want to risk it? It's gonna be about seventy-five dollars, and he might decide to dock somewhere else..."
"I just spoke with him last night, so I know where he's planning to stop... Here..." she said, handing him her charge card, "put it on this. I've already spent much more than that just getting here. I'm not about to have him turn somewhere else because there's 'no room at the inn!'"
He rang up the reservation and gave her the charge slip to sign.
"Remember," she said. "This is supposed to be a surprise, so when he calls in, don't tell him it's already paid for. He can find out when he comes up here to sign in."
"Okay," the clerk said, "but what're you gonna do until he shows up?"
"Hmmm..." she said tapping the charge card against her chin, "I don't have any real sailing gear with me... I think I'll just wander around and see what I can find."
As she did, a large unkempt man burst into the office/store and, marching up to the clerk, loudly demanded a berth for his motor-cruiser.
"What's the length?" the clerk asked.
"Forty-four feet," the man replied, gruffly.
"Sorry," the clerk told him, "I just rented the last transient slip I had, that could handle one that size, to someone else."
"How can that be?" the man asked incredulously. "I'm parked now in one that was empty! Did someone call in ahead of me? I'm standing here with cash!"
"Actually," the clerk responded, "the berth your boat is sitting in was reserved for a long-standing customer, and has already been paid for - in cash, I might add..."
"Where is this mystery customer?" the man demanded, "His boat obviously isn't at the dock, and I don't see him here..."
"That, sir," the clerk told him grimly, "is none of your business! I won't allow you to try to intimidate paying customers, just because they are inconvenient to you!"
The man continued haranguing the clerk, until Amanda approached them. Speaking to the clerk, she said, "I'm really sorry that you are getting this abuse over my actions." Turning to the irate man, she went on calmly, "And I'm truly sorry that my actions have caused you inconvenience, but not sorry enough to give up the slip that I rented for my boyfriend. Please desist from your harassment of this man, and be advised that if you do attempt to intimidate me, I shall not hesitate to call the police."
Unprepared for intervention, particularly by an attractive, self-assured woman, his jaw almost hit the floor. He did, however, manage to compose himself enough to give her a glare, as he growled at the clerk, "We'll see about this!!" Then he whirled on his heel and stomped out the door.
Amanda and the clerk looked at each other and then burst out laughing, as the clerk picked up the phone and dialed security.
"The motor yacht that just pulled into the big transient slip isn't staying. Make sure he leaves without incident," he told them.
Amanda watched out the window as an armed guard followed the man down the dock, at a distance. If the man had entertained any notion of making trouble as he vacated, the presence of the guard apparently changed his mind. I must be out of my mind, she thought, What if he'd attacked me?
She returned to her window shopping for awhile, and eventually heard the radio crackle to life.
{hiss...crackle...pop...}TYA base, this is Pixel.{squawk}
The clerk retrieved the microphone, keyed it, saying, "Ahoy Pixel, this is TYA base! About time you showed up!"
{hiss...crackle...pop...}TYA base, do you have a transient berth for me?{squawk}
Again the clerk keyed the mike, "We do, if you get here first! You know it's first come, first served here!"
{hiss...crackle...pop...}That's what I like! A business that appreciates loyal customers! Look, I'm only about 30 minutes out. Can't you hold it for me?{squawk}
The clerk grinned as he keyed again, "I don't make the policy. You get here first, and you get the slip. I'll tell you this though, I don't see anyone out there who is closer than you are at the moment."
{hiss...crackle...pop...}Alvin, you hold that slip for me, or I'll buy the damned marina just so I can fire your skinny ass!{squawk}
"Okay, okay, but if the boss gets on my case about it, I want you there too!"
{hiss...crackle...pop...}You got it, pal. I'll even buy her dinner, just to get it over with. Thanks!{squawk}
'Nothing to it. Here's where you go..." and the clerk gave him directions to the specific slip Amanda had rented for him.
Carl was on the foredeck stowing the genoa when he noticed the large motor yacht headed his way at high speed. The vessel was still some distance away, but not far enough to allow him to get back to his helm, or even raise an alarm. The pilot of that craft seemed dedicated to maintaining a collision course, but at the last possible second, swung sharply to port.
As the offending vessel passed, he could see a large, rough-looking man on the flying bridge; glaring at him and making obscene gestures. He barely had time to take a secure grip on a handhold, before the huge wake left by the speeding boat hit his bow. Pixel was in no danger of being swamped - she was nearly as large as the other boat - but she was tossed around a bit.
Carl could hear cursing from below decks, as Terry was thrown out of her bunk. She clambered up and into the cockpit area demanding to know what had happened. He pointed at the receding stern of the other boat, the name Aces High painted across her transom.
"I guess it was a case of hate at first sight," he joked. "I've never seen that boat or it's captain before, but I'd swear he was trying to swamp us."
"At least he doesn't seem interested in coming back for another crack at us," she observed. "That's a good thing."
Carl nodded in solemn agreement, and resumed his task, saying, "I expect to dock in short order. You want to take us in while I finish this?"
"Sure thing," she replied. "Let me take care of a couple of small things down below and I'll be right back up," and she momentarily disappeared below decks.
Thirty minutes later they were tying Pixel off in their assigned slip.
As soon as Pixel was secure in her berth, Terry bolted from the boat saying, "I'll be back late. Don't wait up for me."
Carl was a little upset by her behavior. "Just be back by breakfast. We don't have time to dally here," he answered, gruffly.
She nodded and waved as she flew down the dock to hail a taxi.
Carl closed the hatches and followed her at a more unhurried pace. He still had to go by the marina office and check in before figuring out what to do with the afternoon and evening.
He arrived at the end of the dock just in time to see Terry climb into a cab, which then drove away. He shook his head in confusion. Terry has been acting strangely ever since Annapolis, he pondered. I wonder if something happened back there...
He entered the marina to find Alvin behind the counter, grinning from ear to ear. "I could use a good joke," he said, "What's so damn funny?"
Alvin just grinned even wider, and before he could say anything else, he heard a familiar voice asking, "Hey sailor, do ya know where a girl could get a boat ride around here?"
Turning around so quickly he almost fell, he was shocked to find that Amanda had been standing behind him. Watching through one of the windows overlooking the docks, she had moved well away from both the door and the counter before he entered the office. As soon as he was well inside she'd quietly moved up into position, and was almost given away by Alvin's amusement.
His shock lasted only a fraction of a second, and quickly turned into overwhelming joy. He quickly strode over to her, picked her up by the waist and whirled her around, and then crushed her to his chest.
"You're here!" he exclaimed, demonstrating a death-grip on the obvious. "I'm so glad you came!"
"Well, I haven't yet," she murmured into his ear, "but I fully expect to! And soon!"
When he recovered his senses, he set her on her feet, but didn't let go. Instead, he kissed her fiercely, to the point of curling her toes. He stopped only when they both had to either breathe or pass out. Reoxygenation seemed the better alternative.
He took her hand, and was about to lead her outside, but then remembered why he'd come to the office.
"I've got to pay for the slip," he said.
"Relax," she interrupted, "it's taken care of."
"How... What...?" Carl sputtered. Alvin entered the conversation then, and described the events surrounding her reservation of the slip for Pixel. As he listened Carl became agitated.
"I'll bet that was the guy who tried to swamp us, out on the bay," he said. He went on to describe Pixel's near-miss with the motor yacht. "He must have heard us talking on the VHF," he concluded.
Alvin agreed, and advised Carl to be wary of future encounters with the disgruntled power boater. "There's no telling what a guy like that might be capable of..." he observed.
Carl looked hard at Amanda, and pleaded, "Don't ever put yourself in that position again. I'd never forgive myself if you were hurt, trying to do something like that..."
Amanda smiled, but didn't answer. She was more interested in restoring the mood that had so quickly evaporated, so she sauntered up to him, threw her arms around his neck, and whispered "Enough of that discussion, I need some personal attention from you."
Being a relatively astute man, he knew better than to argue.
Amanda looked around the stateroom, cataloging the destruction. Clothes, both his and hers, were scattered everywhere. She smiled as she thought about how things had progressed.
Neither of them had been able to keep their hands off the other, all the way down the dock. Even the momentary separation necessary for simply boarding the boat had been almost painful. Once aboard, they were hard-pressed to make it into the stateroom before attacking each other hungrily.
It was not the gentle seduction and coupling she remembered from the evening of their first date. No, it was more the ravenous behavior of starving people, suddenly presented with a banquet. His hands, his lips were everywhere, touching all her hot spots. His arms crushed her to him, forbidding any escape.
She had responded in kind, devouring him as he devoured her. When he finally entered her, she immediately exploded into orgasm. Twice more he built her up to an incredible high, and then threw her off that peak, before he allowed his passion to burst forth into her body. And now, just as I'd heard many men do, immediately after intense sex, she observed grinning, he's fallen asleep!
She felt a sudden, irresistible urge, and was reminded that she hadn't been to the restroom in several hours. That realization only served to make her more uncomfortable, so she arose and went to the head.
As careful as she tried to be, the motion that she caused as she left the bed was enough to rouse Carl. He opened a bleary eye just in time to see her close the door to the head. What a wonderful idea, he thought, as his own bladder began to complain. Fortunately, Pixel had two heads, so rather than wait in discomfort, Carl chose to avail himself of the other facility.
The two returned to the stateroom at nearly the same moment, and Carl, not thinking (with his big head, anyway) grabbed Amanda and gave her a big, sloppy kiss.
"Yuck!" she protested, pushing away. "Morning mouth! Go brush your teeth!"
"It's not morning," he asserted, then he grinned, "but I have been asleep, so I guess I should..."
"You definitely should," she affirmed, climbing back into the bunk.
"Are you sure you want to do that?" he asked, entering the head to comply with her directive. "It's about dinner time. I know a few good restaurants around here, and if you'd like, we can go out to eat."
She shook her head, "No, I don't want to share you with anyone else yet. Can't we just eat here?"
"Sure," he agreed. "I'm stocked for a month-long cruise. How about I grill some small steaks, and bake a couple of potatoes?"
"That would be great, but I want to help. By the way where is your crew??"
"I'm not sure. As soon as we docked, Terry hit the ground running. Don't worry though, the two of you will likely meet in the morning."
"Why in the morning?"
"Because that's when we cast off!' You are going with us, aren't you?" He re-entered the stateroom and pulled her to her feet.
"That's why I'm here, sailor!"
He put his arms around her waist and engaged her mouth in another passionate kiss.
Leading her into the galley, he began setting up to prepare the meal. She lent a hand whenever she could, asking about his visit to Annapolis and his plans for the remainder of the trip.
"I had a good time, at home," he said, "but the whole time I was there, I got the feeling that my parents were concealing something. That was a little disturbing, but I guess I'll get over it. As to this trip, it's going to be a few more weeks of constant work and motion. Because it's so late in the season, I can't dally as much as I usually would."
"Other than the weather, why do you go south, anyway?" she queried. "You could just move off the boat for the cold weather, and not have to go anywhere."
"It's more than the weather," he replied. "That's a big part of it though. You see, I grew up around sailboats, and ever since my youth I always wanted to live my life on and around them: of course, at the time, I thought that meant working on them, but life led me in another direction.
"I went to college and became a systems engineer, developing software for one of the big computer companies. Software that, it seems, a whole bunch of people felt they couldn't live without. Eventually, I struck out on my own, and for several years I successfully competed with my former employers and their other competitors, with my own software development business, doing nearly all of my marketing online.
"In the mid-nineties, I began to notice that a lot of people were getting into the business, and it was taking more and more of my time to explain to new customers, why my products were better - read, worth more money - than those being marketed by my new competitors. It was getting pretty stressful.
"At about the same time, my old bosses approached me with a proposition: the corporation was going to spin off software development and marketing into a separate company, and they wanted me and my products to be part of it. Their offer was a near-fantasy for a geek like me: I was to be head of their R&D department. The offer came with stock in the new company - not just options - and I'd get to keep ownership of the products I'd already created, as well as any new ones based on them. That meant that I'd be getting royalties on almost everything they sold.
"To me, however, it was plain that, no matter what they said I'd be doing, I would eventually get sucked into product marketing, if only because I knew the products' capabilities better than anyone they could hire. I didn't want that, so I made them a counter-offer: a flat buy-out, leaving them with title to my business and all of the intellectual property I had developed up to that point. I wanted a royalty-free redistributable license to any of the software components I had developed, as long as I offered them first refusal on anything I developed with those components in the future.
"To my eternal surprise, they bought the whole package, and we negotiated a huge price for my company. Given where you work, I'm sure you know how huge. Your boss, Barry, was instrumental in preventing me from giving away the farm. I never cease to be amazed at how much value some people place on intangibles.
"I didn't want to think about computers or software, for awhile, and with my new-found wealth, my first inclination was to get into the boat-building business. When I did 'due diligence' on the idea, however, it became clear that it was a losing proposition. The admittedly large bankroll I had would have vanished within a very few years. That didn't make sense.
"That's when I decided not to decide. I let Barry manage my money, and he's been very good at making it grow - though sometimes I think he forgets that it's mine! With some of that money, I commissioned a reputable firm to create Pixel, and began to live my life on the water.
"Over the years, I've developed a few habits: I spend much of my time moving. I have a dockominium slip in Boston Harbor, where you found me, and one in Fort Lauderdale, where we're headed. When it gets too hot to stay in Florida I head north, and when it gets too cool to stay in New England, I head south. At the end of each trek, I throw a party for any of my friends that happen to be about.
"I guess you could say that I have no direction or purpose in my life," he looked at her sadly. "If that makes you dislike me, I'm sorry."
She hadn't meant to drag his life's story out, and she found his lifestyle unsettling, but in a very short time he'd become very important to her. She moved into his arms.
"You may not have direction or purpose right now, but I'm sure that one day you will. And I don't sleep with men that I don't like! So there!" she told him, with a peck on his nose.
When dinner was done, they ate in the cockpit while sipping a decent merlot. Amanda picked up the bottle and looked at the label: Pixel's Pick, it said. She burst out laughing.
"How on earth did you do that?" she demanded.
"If you look at the label closely, you'll see that it was bottled by a small, regional winery in north Georgia," he told her. "It's no big deal, really, they'll bottle it with any kind of label you want, within reason, provided you buy at least half a case. As you can tell, it's pretty good wine, but mostly, it gives me a kick when my wine-snobby associates get around to reading the label."
They finished their meal and sat for awhile in the cockpit, listening to some music, and watching the diminishing marine activity as darkness grew. When it became uncomfortably cool for the way they were dressed, they retired to the salon, taking the bottle with them. They finished it off while cuddling on the settee opposite the television, which was playing some sitcom they easily ignored.
As they petted, stroked and teased, their need grew, and eventually Carl stood and drew her by her hands into the master stateroom. She was enjoying the attention, so she just let him have his way, standing very still as he carefully, seductively undressed her, continuously planting kisses on every bit of skin as he exposed it. This was much more like their first time together.
When she was fully nude, he practically ripped his own clothes off his body, then gently, carefully laid her back on the bunk, her legs hanging over the side. He picked up one leg and started kissing her ankle. He slowly kissed his way up (or down, depending on your perspective!) her calf, until he reached that tender, sensitive area behind her knee.
He licked it! Again and again, almost a French kiss, applied to that often-forgotten, always-neglected sweet spot. His lips moved up the inside of her thigh to where it joined her groin, finding another tender, neglected area to lave and caress with his tongue. Moving on, he kissed gently near the outer lips of her womanhood, but otherwise left it alone.
To her dismay he withdrew and started the entire process all over again with the other leg, beginning with the ankle, and again working toward her sexual center. This time, when he neared his goal, he did not stop, did not withdraw. Instead, he attacked, licking, sucking, gently biting, and otherwise stimulating every part of it, except the small button at the top, frustrating her no end.
That she was aroused and ready was not in dispute. Had she denied it, the amount of lubrication she produced would have given her words the lie, as would the way she moved her hips, pressing upward to meet him if he but moved away a little. Eventually her neglected clitoris unhooded itself, begging for attention. Not being unobservant, he noticed this. Not being unkind, he relented, licking and sucking, gently at first, then with increasing vigor as her responses likewise became more vigorous.
Minutes later, she clamped her legs around his head, and with both hands shoved it as hard against her mound as she could, while simultaneously arching her back to raise her hips clear of the bed, and screaming at the top of her lungs. She then fainted from hyperventilation; he almost did, from oxygen deprivation.
When he regained his strength, he rearranged her comatose body on the bunk, and positioned himself at the ready, waiting for her to regain consciousness. He kissed her face lightly, and stroked her cheeks with his fingertips, and when, eventually, she opened her eyes to look into his, he smoothly, but quickly pushed himself into her body.
Her reaction was immediate and dramatic, being another intense, drawn-out climax with the customary accompanying ear-splitting scream. Perhaps I need to get some earplugs, Carl thought, grinning, otherwise I could have a permanent hearing loss.
Amanda suffered through that sort of abuse once more that night, before falling asleep for the evening. Sometime later she was awakened by the sound of someone moving around in the salon. She reached over and shook Carl awake, shushing him so he could listen to the noise.
Just as he achieved full wakefulness, he heard the door to Terry's assigned cabin open and then close. "Terry's back," he said to Amanda, smiling, just before falling asleep again.
Amanda found this to be a less than satisfactory response to her concern, but she was too tired to investigate personally. At least he's the one closest to the door, she thought, as she also fell back asleep.