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Carl maneuvered carefully among the other boats at Mariner's Wharf. Pixel had made good time coming down the Chesapeake, but then had taken a longer route into North Carolina than originally planned. In fact, a stop in Elizabeth City had not been in the original plan at all, since he had intended to take the Coinjock route. As a result of the course change, Carl was not nearly as far south now as He would have liked.
Some delays are worth it, though, he sighed, watching Amanda's shapely derriere as she bent to the task of securing the dock lines.
"We won't be staying long," he said, as she returned to the cockpit. "I need to refuel and take on some water, then I intend to find a cell phone kiosk and get Terry her own phone. I feel naked without mine."
"I know what you mean," she answered. "My cell is my lifeline. You want company?"
"Normally, that would be a definite YES! But this time, I'd like it if you stayed with the boat," he responded, watching Amanda's face fall into a pout. "Bear with me, please?" he went on, "Terry is getting a decent sleep for the first time since Annapolis, and I don't want to wake her until it's time for her watch."
"Well what if you were alone, and needed to go to the grocery or something?" she challenged. "Wouldn't you have to leave the boat alone then?"
"Yes. But that's not the only thing I have in mind, and if I am late returning, I'd like for someone to be here when she wakes up. Please?"
"Oh all right," Amanda agreed, grudgingly. "But you're going to have to make it up to me later," she added with a smile, reminiscent of the Mona Lisa.
Carl grinned. He knew that she would be in for a surprise while he was gone. It would be early evening when he left her at the dock, and Elizabeth City was a popular stopping point, both for the free dockage and because of the "Rose Buddies." The Rose Buddies came into being soon after the docks were completed in 1983. Fred Fearing and his friend Joe Kramer, started a tradition of holding complimentary wine and cheese parties for visiting boaters, and gifting each lady (otherwise known as the First Mate) with a flower from Joe's rose bushes. Joe passed on in 1987, but Fred, with help from others, continued the practice.
Terry knew all about the Rose Buddies, and when she woke up and found out where they were, Carl knew that she'd make sure that Amanda got the greeting that was due her.
He would need his phone in order to stay in touch with Pixel while they were in port, so he slipped quietly into Terry's cabin. Glancing at her, he noted that she was sleeping in the nude, as had always been her custom. She's still a beautiful woman, he mused. She has so much to offer; I just wish she had better luck with, and better taste in, men. Looking around, he spotted his phone and retrieved it.
As he left the cabin, he saw Amanda watching; her expression inscrutable. I wonder what she thought I was doing... By way of explanation, he showed her the cell phone, then kissed her cheek and bounded off the boat and onto the dock. Amanda let go an exasperated sigh as he disappeared into the distance.
Carl couldn't believe how difficult it had been to get a cab. On the other hand, he hadn't ever had to get one before, in Elizabeth City. On top of that, his cellular service carrier had only one storefront in the town, and it was a significant distance from the city docks.
He paid the cabby and got his company card, then entered the dimly lit storefront. After a long couple of minutes, the bored twenty-something behind the counter decided he wasn't going away, and closed the web site she'd been surfing.
Pasting a smile on her face, she turned to him and said, "Welcome to our store. How may I help you?"
Carl grinned and answered, "Well for starters, you could give me a real smile, and then tell me about your pre-paid cell plans." He peered at her employee badge and added, "Julie. My name is Carl."
Flustered, she stammered, "Well Carl...um...have you ever had cell service with us before?"
His grin broadened as he pulled out his phone and showed it to her, "Sure did, and I still do!"
"I don't understand," she said, frowning. "If you have one of our cells, why do you want to get a prepaid phone?"
"I have a friend who's having a personal crisis. This is a way I can help."
"Okay," she responded, realizing that she wouldn't get any more information about that. "Well, we can just add the cost to your current account if you want. You can add minutes to the phone by calling in the authorization to charge your account. When you're done with the phone, you can just drop it."
"That sounds great! What do you need from me?"
"I doubt if you're carrying around any of the paperwork for your account, so if you'll just give me your phone number, I'll look it up on the computer." She pushed a pen and notepad toward him.
After he gave her back the pad with his phone number written on it, she entered the number into her data retrieval screen. When the account information showed up, she blanched and swallowed.
"Carl...uh Mr. Schroedinger, I mean, this kind of account doesn't even show up in our public offerings...I've never even seen this kind of service agreement...are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yeah," he responded. "I got the account when I was running my own business. That account is the reason I even went with your company. Nobody else wanted to give me a flat rate for unlimited connect time, roaming, long distance, and international calling. I pay a lot per month, probably more than my usage justifies, but I don't have to worry about surprises."
"You sure don't," she observed. "Please don't take offense, but before I can add anything to your account, I need to see a picture ID."
Thank goodness I keep my driver's license up to date, he thought, reaching for his wallet, Even though I don't even own a car!
She looked at the picture and then at him, seemingly satisfied, then compared the address on the license with that on the account. Everything checked out.
"You're a long way from home," she observed.
"Yes," he answered, "my friends and I are headed for Fort Lauderdale for the winter. I do it every year, and I usually throw a party that lasts a couple of days when I get there."
"Are you driving? " she queried, not having observed his arrival by taxi.
"No," he laughed, "I own a boat, and we're cruising down, mostly by the ICW."
"Can I come too?" she sounded hopeful, and almost sincere.
With the tables turned, Carl was a bit taken aback. "I suppose...it would be a bit crowded...wait a minute, how old are you anyway? And what about your job here?"
"Relax," she laughed. "In order: have my own boat; I'm nineteen - definitely legal, though you're much older than the guys I usually date." She giggled as he took on a hurt expression. "And the job is history soon, anyway. Didn't you notice how empty it is in here?" Looking around, he nodded.
She went on, "The Company did it to themselves. They got greedy and put kiosks in all the major stores in the area. Instead of increasing sales, though, the kiosks just drew off customers who would have come here. They saturated the market here and now there isn't enough business to keep the storefront open. They've even had to close most of the kiosks! We'll be locking the doors at the end of the month, and all new business will be done online and through the few remaining kiosks."
"That explains your enthusiasm," he observed, grinning. "But even at that, can you just pick up and go? What kind of boat do you have, anyway?"
"It's a Cal 30. She's named Bailarina and yes, it might take a little while to outfit and provision for a long trip, but not too long."
"Tell you what," he said. "I can't wait for you, because I have a deadline to meet." He took the pad and pen back, and began writing. "Here's my contact info: boat name, my name, and you already have my cell number. I'll be parking at this dockominium, where I own a slip. If you decide to follow me down, give me a call when you get to town, and I'll see if I can help you find dockage. In any case, if you show up in time, you're welcome to come to the party."
She'd begun to show some disappointment in her expression, but brightened up as he finished speaking. Turning back to her console, she looked at the account info more carefully and said, "Carl, you don't need a prepaid phone."
"What's that?" he asked, surprised.
"We sell prepaid minutes in blocks of 60 and 90 minutes. The cost of the minimum block is $25.00 and, if unused they're good for three months. If your friend has need of connectivity, though, those minutes might not last even a month. Roaming and long distance charges are extra on prepaid plans. With a prepaid, your monthly costs could go through the roof!
"On the other hand, you could just add another phone to your current plan at a cost of only $10.00 per month. You already have unlimited connect time, long distance and roaming, so the another phone wouldn't add any extra cost over the basic charge, and you can drop it any time you want to. Either way, you have to buy a phone, so there's no down side to it."
Reaching over the counter, he grabbed her hand and drew it to his lips. "Mademoiselle, you have done me a great service, and I won't forget it! Please make it so!"
While waiting for Terry to wake up, Amanda busied herself tidying up the boat. There really wasn't much to do, just a few dishes to wash and put away. After that was done, she went topside and looked around. Aren't I a swabbie? And aren't swabbies supposed to mop the decks every now and then? Checking the lockers, she found a mop and pail, and began to do just that.
Just as she finished, Terry came stumbling through the hatch. Looking around, she asked, "you trying to put me out of a job?"
"No way," Amanda replied. "But with you asleep, and Carl gone, I had to do something to alleviate the boredom."
"Where is our sorry-assed skipper anyway, and where are we?"
"Well, he said something about getting you a cell phone, and told me that we are at Mariner's Wharf, in Elizabeth City. He wouldn't let me go with him... said someone needed to be here with you when you woke up.""
I should have known, Terry thought. It's just like him to do something like that! I know what to do now, though...
"Come on," she ordered. "We need to get ready to party! First dibs on the shower!"
Mystified, Amanda just followed orders.
When Carl arrived back at the Wharf, the Rose Buddy party was winding down, and his ladies had already left, and presumably returned to Pixel. He stood on the dock, beside the stack of provisions that had been delivered with him, and shouted, "Permission to come aboard!"
Terry stuck her head out through the hatch, and with a grin, demanded, "Do we know you, sailor?"
He blew her a raspberry and she said, "Permission granted!"
"How did Amanda like the party?" he asked, as he clambered aboard.
"I think she wants to tell you herself," she responded diffidently, waving him toward his stateroom.
"Oh..." he said, hesitating. "Is it bad?"
Terry shrugged. "Ya got me...when she heard you holler, she just told me to tell you, then went into the stateroom."
As he turned and headed toward his fate, he said, "Well...okay." He couldn't see the grin on Terry's face.
Carl nervously entered the stateroom, then nearly had a heart attack. Amanda was waiting, and obviously expected him. She lay on her side, facing the companionway, propped up on one arm, and she was wearing...a rose...in her teeth. And a smile.
He let go a sigh of relief and said, "I guess you had a good time tonight!"
Dropping the rose, she growled, "Get naked now!"
Oh hell! he rationalized, What's another night at dock? Maybe we'll make it up on the Sound... and he moved to obey. Once he was no longer encumbered with clothing, Amanda tossed the rose off the bunk, and literally dragged him onto her body. Locking her lips to his, she seemed intent on draining his life force with her kiss. At that point, he would have given it gladly.
His brain was still spinning, but his body knew exactly what to do, so when she reached between them for his shaft, it was ready. For her part, she'd been ready, and very wet indeed, for quite awhile. A couple of swipes of the crown between her lower lips were all that was required for lubrication, and his involuntary shudder drove him all the way into her canal with a single stroke.
Lifting her hips to meet him, she set up a rhythm that was guaranteed to rapidly take both of them to the point of no return. In short order, she announced to the entire anchorage that she had achieved her goal, following which he quickly acknowledged her victory with his own shuddering climax. I've GOT to get those earplugs! he concluded.
Spent, they lay panting, kissing, and cuddling for the better part of an hour before duty called.
Terry yelled down from the deck, "Boss, you want me to move the provisions aboard?"
"Hand on a minute," he shouted back, "and I'll help." Amanda whimpered, but let him go as he struggled to right himself. He planted kisses on her lips, eyes, cheeks and neck, as he pushed himself off the bunk to get dressed. Licking her lips, he realized that she had had more than a taste of wine at the party.
"You don't have to get up," he told her. "Terry and I can handle this."
"Good!" she grumped, settling back into the bedclothes.
It took the greater part of an hour, but eventually all of the new stores were stowed and secure. Carl wiped his hands on a handy rag, and grunted his satisfaction. Given that Terry is rested, and Amanda is probably going to sleep all night, maybe we should take advantage...
"Terry."
"Yes Carl?"
"I think I'd like to try and make up some of our lost time. Would you be comfortable taking first watch?"
"Of course! Do you want to take on fuel and water first?"
"Fuel, yes. I think we have enough water, and if not, I'll fire up the watermaker. If you're ready, take the wheel, and I'll cast us off."
Another hour of maneuvering, and Pixel had a full charge of diesel, and was back on the Pasquotank River, headed for the open water of the Albemarle Sound. The Sound is known for tough sailing, even in daylight hours, but Carl had confidence in Terry's skills. As a delivery captain, she had sailed the sound many times.
As he headed below, Carl remembered the reason for his shore-side adventure in Elizabeth City, so he returned to the steering station and handed Terry her new phone.
Taking the phone, she was overwhelmed with emotion, and through her tears she said, "I'll pay it all back to you as soon as I can..."
He shook his head. "I love your folks almost as much as you do, and I love you too. This isn't a loan, it's a gift."
"It's too much, Carl," she protested.
"No, it's not," he responded, flatly. "At the very least, I need you to be in top form. In order to be on top of your game, you need more peace of mind than you've had lately. I'm hoping this helps you with that."
"Well, if you're sure..."
"Oh, I'm sure," he responded. "Besides, I need my phone back!" Then he left her to go below. As he again reached the main hatch, he looked back over his shoulder and said, "Wake me in four."
Terry nodded her agreement and blew him a kiss. He grinned and continued on his way.
Sailing conditions were uncharacteristically favorable on the Sound, and Terry had actually let her watch slip a little past the four-hour mark. Even under the best possible conditions, it could take as much as another thirty or so hours of constant sailing, to make Beaufort. The weather can go sour pretty abruptly, however, so plans had to be flexible.
She had taken the opportunity to use her new phone, and talked at length with her mother. Her Dad was a little depressed, but seemingly alright otherwise, at least as much as he could be. She felt pretty good, having had a pretty sedate watch, with just enough going on to keep her alert. She briefly considered letting Carl sleep for a few more hours, but she knew he would be aggravated with her if she didn't wake him pretty soon.
Waiting only long enough to be certain that no course change was imminent, and that there was no immediate danger of a collision, she locked the wheel and went below to wake him.
As she entered the master stateroom, she paused to take in the tableau. The lovers were nude, and both were snoring gently, Carl spooning Amanda. Her neck lay across one of his arms, which was stretched out across the bunk. His opposing hand gently cupped her breast, and both of her hands held it there. A touching, if unconscious, display of mutual affection.
Why can't I find that? Terry wondered. Why do I always end up with a loser? She gazed at his face, and it was almost like seeing him for the first time.
How the hell did I miss it that he got so handsome? If Amanda weren't here... but she knew that, in reality, the only reason that she'd noticed it this time, was that Amanda was here. She had just never seriously considered Carl, as a man. To her, he'd never been more than a good friend and sometime, short-term, playmate. She moved quietly over to his side, and started gently stroking his exposed arm.
"Time to wake up, lover boy..." she whispered into his ear. His eyes fluttered open as she watched, and he turned to look up at her with a disarming grin. She was sure that he was really awake and ready to work when he gave her an exaggerated wink and nodded his head toward the door. Taking the hint, she went back to the steering station to await his arrival.
He eventually did arrive, bearing a couple of cups of coffee. He handed one to her and said, "Don't feel obligated to drink that, if you think it'll keep you awake."
"No chance of that," she laughed, taking the cup from him. "It's been a long day. I don't think a strafing run could keep me awake, after I hit the sack."
"I think we'll go on sixes now, " he said, sipping his java. "We'll both rest better when we're off watch. What's the latest weather forecast?"
"NOAA says there won't be any significant change over the next 48 hours," she answered. "In about ten hours, they say the winds will clock to the south, and gradually fall off to nothing, then a few hours later, resume from the east."
"Sounds like we'll soon be running on engines for a while."
They sat in amicable silence as they sipped the coffee. When Terry finished hers, she stood, and impulsively wrapped her arms around Carl for a hug. Then she kissed his cheek and headed below.
"What was that for?" he asked of her retreating backside.
Stopping at the hatch, she turned and looked at him briefly. "Just for being a really good friend," she said, just before continuing on to her bunk.
The forecast was wrong, as usual, Carl observed. It was nearing the end of his watch, and instead of the steady westerlies he felt NOAA had promised, the winds had clocked and died, four hours earlier than expected. Nothing for it but to start the engines.
In the relative silence of the early morning, the roar of the engines coming to life sounded even louder than usual. I guess I don't have to worry about how to wake Terry up!
Sure enough, it wasn't long before she stumbled groggily through the hatch. "Hell of a way to call me to watch," she groused, her smile taking most of the sting out of the remark.
"Well, you just have to go with what works," he observed sardonically. "NOAA got it wrong again, and we're becalmed. We're on engines until we see some wind. If you'll take the wheel, I'll furl the sails before I head below."
When he had completed that job, he again approached Terry, saying, "Amanda should be up shortly, and can help out. If the wind comes up, you can let her steer so you can work the sails. If you need more help than that, don't hesitate to come to me." She nodded her acceptance, and he headed below.
When the easterlies finally arrived, they weren't strong enough to silence the engines, so Pixel and her crew had to motor-sail the remaining distance to Beaufort, North Carolina. The constant thrumming of the engines wasn't pleasant, but they were necessary in order to make sufficient progress southward.
Instead of just working the daylight watches, Amanda began working sixes herself, adopting a schedule that overlapped that of the others, allowing her to add nighttime watch experience to her sailing resume. Shortly before midnight, on she wakened Carl from a deep sleep.
"Carl! Carl! You've got to come quickly!"
"Huh? Wha..?" he ingeniously muttered, as he pried his eyes open and abruptly sat up. "Did we run aground? Have a collision? What?"
"No, you need to get up and come on deck now!" she insisted. "There's something wrong with Terry!"
"Uh, okay," he acquiesced. "Let me pull on some shorts and I'll be right out."
"Hurry!" she said as she ran back to the cockpit.
He dressed in a rush and barreled out the main hatch into the cockpit, to see Terry collapsed on deck. By the time he had arrived, Amanda had unlocked and taken over the wheel. He gave her a look of thanks, and trusting her to keep them clear of danger, he picked up Terry and carried her into the salon.
He laid her on a settee, and checked her for any injuries, even using a small flashlight to check her pupils for dilation. She remained unconscious during the entire procedure, and there was no indication of a cause for her fainting. Carl decided to treat her for shock, wrapping her in a warm blanket and elevating her feet. Having arranged her, as best he could, for her maximum comfort, he returned to the cockpit to speak with Amanda.
"How long has she been like this?" he asked.
"Not long," she responded. "Her cell phone rang, and I was steering for her, so she could answer it. She said hello and listened for a few seconds, then she collapsed. I locked the wheel and tried to move her, but she was too heavy. That's when I came to get you."
Carl breathed a sigh of relief. Clearly the cause of her collapse was related to the phone call. That was worrisome in itself, but at least there was little likelihood of physical injury.
"Okay. Here's what I think," he offered. "She's suffered some kind of emotional trauma as a result of that phone call. There appears to be no physical damage, so we don't need to call in the Coast Guard, but she'll need to be watched over until she regains consciousness. You can either continue to pilot the boat until my watch starts, or I can take over now, and whichever of us isn't at the wheel can take care of her. Do you have a preference?"
"Umm.. yeah. I'm still pretty new at this sailing stuff, and not very confident in my ability to keep us safe at night. I'd prefer that you did the sailing, if you don't mind. I can take care of Terry, and then too, it might be easier for her to talk to me, rather than you, about whatever happened."
"You're right, of course. I hadn't thought of that. Okay. That's the way we'll do it then."
That settled, Amanda went below to care for Terry, and Carl settled in at the wheel. After a few moments he began to wonder, Where did her phone go? He used a red-filtered flashlight, which he normally kept at the steering station, to search around the area where Terry had fallen, and quickly located the missing phone.
"Amanda," he called. "Could you come back out here for a second?"
She returned to him quickly, with a questioning look on her face.
"This, phone," he said, showing her the offending device, "has caller id, and keeps a log of both incoming and outgoing calls. I want to know who called and upset Terry. Since I'm piloting, I also don't want to ruin my night vision by looking at its screen. How about taking it below, and reading the number of origin of the last call received."
Amanda balked. "I don't think we should do that! Isn't that an invasion of her privacy?"
"Not really," he countered. "It'll be on the next bill I pay anyway. The difference is, by then it'll be too late to be of any value in helping her. Besides, I suspect it's from her mother anyway. Please do it."
She wasn't completely convinced, but couldn't come up with any better argument. "Okay," she agreed, "but if she gets pissed at you about it, leave my name out of it!"
Carl grinned and said, "Done! Now get me that number!"
Amanda left him briefly, to do as he asked. When she returned, she told him the number, and he said, "Yep! That's her folks phone number, all right."
"How do you know that," she puzzled.
He gave her an odd glance, and said "We grew up next door to each other, remember? I often had to call her for one reason or another. Her parents have had the same number my entire life."
"Oh," she responded, feeling foolish. "I guess I forgot. What do you want me to do with the phone now?"
"If you wouldn't mind, could you just put it on her bunk? I think that when she comes to, she should just go to bed anyway, and that'll make it easy for her to find it."
Carl decided to call Terry's home to find out exactly what was said to Terry, causing her to faint. Her Mom is probably wondering what happened, if Terry fainted without responding. After he dialed the number, he didn't even hear the phone ring once before her mother's contralto voice came on the line.
"Terry? Are you okay? The line just went dead!"
It took a while, but eventually Carl succeeded in calming Mrs. Jensen, assuring her that Terry hadn't fallen overboard and drowned. Following that, he extracted the news that had shocked Terry into losing consciousness. It seems that Mr. Jensen had had another crisis, and this time, the medical team treating him were recommending hospice care. They didn't expect him to live more than a few days.
Carl extended his sympathies, and assured her that he would arrange for Terry to return home, as soon as possible after Pixel reached Beaufort. The reason for Terry's distress was no longer a mystery, and when he broke the connection with her mother, his own emotional state was nearly as bad.
Amanda returned to him eventually, reporting that Terry had awakened enough to move to her bunk. Looking at his face, she saw confirmation that something terrible had happened, and that it meant nearly as much to him as it had to Terry. Not knowing what to say or do, she simply moved behind him and wrapped her arms around his torso.
They stayed that way for a short while, until he suggested that she might need to sleep. Reluctantly, she agreed, and went below, giving him several hours to ponder what needed to be done.
As the Beaufort city lights appeared on the horizon, he arrived at several decisions
Looking out the window of the Lear jet, Carl was grateful that he'd maintained his business contacts, even after selling the business itself. It had been touch and go, but after calling in some favors owed him by some long-time friends, he'd been able to get the charter plane quickly enough to make a trip to Annapolis both timely and feasible.
Terry was still a wreck, but Amanda sat with her, holding her hand and offering sympathy. It was all that anyone could do at this point. Looking at Amanda he thought, She's taking the interruption of her vacation really well. I'll have to try and make it up to her.
He returned his gaze to the view out the window, wondering what kind of welcome she would get in Annapolis.