Copyright© 2008 by Quantum Mechanic

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Chapter 6.

"Are you sure? Is it really what you want?" His discomfort with the situation was evident in his face.

"I'm sure. It's what you need to do, what she needs to do," Amanda replied.

"But what about us?" he demanded. "This is, at the very least, unconventional in a relatively new relationship."

She looked at him squarely, and replied, "Carl, we only met recently, and we've had some pretty good times, but we really don't know each other that well. Despite everything that's happened, I'm not yet sure that there is an 'us' to worry about. It's too early in the game for either of us to commit to, or demand, exclusivity. Because of your mutual history, you have an obligation to her, and if you were to renege on that, you wouldn't be the kind of man I would want anyway."

"I didn't promise this!" he complained.

"You didn't have to!" she snapped. "Some obligations happen just because people care about each other!" She softened, momentarily, and went to him. Wrapping him in her arms, she hugged him tightly, her head on his chest.

"I'm not saying you have to make love to her," she said, But you will. "But you need to hold her and comfort her. Her Mom basically kicked her out of the house, and you are the closest thing to family she has here."

"But what if..." he started to object.

"What if nothing!" she retorted, pushing him away. "You don't owe me fidelity... at least not yet. You do owe her compassion, tenderness. Now go!"

Angrily, he turned and left the stateroom. She watched him leave with mixed emotions, as she climbed into the bed. I hope he regains control before he talks to her. How did we get to this place? She remembered...

---

The rental car was waiting on the ground when the chartered plane touched down at Lee Field. Carl had seen to that, as he had to all of the details for this trip. They were traveling light, so debarking was accomplished in short order, and only minutes later Carl was negotiating the traffic outside the airport.

Amanda sat in the rear seat with Terry, still trying to give moral support. The hospice where Terry's father had been installed was still nearly an hour away, and the last word they had from Mrs. Jensen was that he could pass on at any minute.

When they arrived at the hospice, they were taken directly to Mr. Jensen's room. What many people don't realize, is that hospice care for terminal cancer patients consists primarily of pain management. Cure and recovery is no longer a potential outcome at that point, so the primary object is to maximize the patient's comfort, while they live. It's a difficult dance, too much medication, and the patient stays in a drugged stupor, or more often, simply lays unconscious until death. Too little, and the pain incapacitates them for any kind of interaction. Mr. Jensen was at the very limit of medicine's ability to provide adequate pain suppression, and just before the crew of Pixel arrived, he had received enough morphine to temporarily knock him out.

Seeing him lay there, unconscious and dying, Terry broke down and wept yet again. The hospice staff tried to comfort her as best they could, with sympathetic platitudes, and reassured her that he would likely wake up again shortly. Sure enough, he regained consciousness about thirty minutes later, and managed, with difficulty to engage in a brief conversation with his daughter and Carl. Amanda stood well away from the sick man's bed. He probably thinks I'm hospice staff.

Terry wanted to stay with her father, but he made it clear that she needed to leave, so that they both could get some rest.

"I love you baby, and I know you love me, but I can barely hold my eyes open right now. You look pretty bushed, yourself. Go home, and let your mother feed you. You can come see me in the morning." His eyes started to droop, and he added, "I hope I can be a little more awake then."

Feeling that she had made her peace with him, Terry allowed Carl to take her away to her parents' home. Upon her arrival, Terry and her mother shared a long hug and a hello cry.

After a few minutes, Amanda watched Mrs. Jensen gather Carl in as well, while she continued to stay out of the way. I didn't realize that Carl could be this close to people, she thought. He always seems so cool and in-control... she smiled to herself, except in bed!

Mrs. Jensen finally noticed her standing by the door, and looking at the two people in her arms, she demanded, "And who is that lovely girl?"

Taking charge of the conversation, Terry replied, "Mom let me introduce you to Amanda Bonaduce, my shipmate, and the best female friend I've made in years. Oh and incidentally, she's Carl's girlfriend."

That last remark caused the cascade of expressions across Mrs. Jensen's face, not all of which were happy, and none of which Amanda missed. Uh-oh, looks like Mom had plans she hasn't been talking about!

"It's very nice to meet you," Mrs. Jensen offered. "We've all been worried that Carl might never find someone... suitable..."

I'll just bet you have! Smiling, Amanda extended her hand and responded, "I'm pleased to meet you as well. I've been wanting to know more about you since I first met Terry."

On hearing that, Mrs. Jensen arched her eyebrows, questioningly, but asked, "Will you and Carl be staying for dinner?"

"No," Carl interjected, as he disentangled himself. "Amanda hasn't yet met Mom and Dad. Now that Terry is safe in your clutches, we'll be heading over there." Moving toward the door, he gathered Amanda's hand in his, and pulled her along.

"Are you sure Amanda wouldn't rather stay here with Terry?" she called after them, "We have plenty of room..."

Briefly turning back to Terry and her mom, Amanda replied, "I'm sure I'll be fine. We'll see you in the morning."

Outside, Carl installed Amanda in the passenger seat of the rental car. As he took the driver's seat he noticed her looking at him with an odd expression.

"What?" he demanded.

"You know that Terry's mom isn't all that happy to meet me," she replied. "Will your parents be?"

"My parents will be ecstatic," he declared. "What makes you feel that way?"

"I watched her face as Terry introduced me. It fell like a rock when Terry told her that I'm your girlfriend. It's obvious that she'd rather Terry held that position."

"That's crazy. Terry and I never had that kind of relationship."

"Irrelevant. Relationships can change, and parents always have hopes for their children. How do your parents feel about Terry?"

Carl stared straight ahead and responded, "I don't know. You might be right." Taking a deep breath, he put the car in gear and headed for his natal home. "Nothing for it but to do it, though. I love my parents, but their ability to determine my future is long in the past tense."

Neither of them spoke again until reaching their destination. This didn't take long, since it was the house next door.

---

The scene at the Schroedinger home was almost a repeat of that she experienced at the Jensen's. Amanda held back at the door as Carl's parents rushed to embrace him. Shortly though, Carl pulled away from them and took her hand.

"Mom, Dad," he said, "I'd like you to meet Amanda Bonaduce. We haven't known each other long, but she's already taken possession of a huge piece of my heart. Please welcome her to your home as you would me?"

Both his parents and Amanda were shocked at his open admission, but his mother recovered more quickly than the others. She rapidly pulled Amanda into a welcoming embrace and said, "We had all but given up hope! Please, let us get to know the woman who has captured our son's heart!"

Amanda had no idea how to react, so she just allowed herself to be hugged within an inch of her life.

Carl's dad took a little longer to recover from the announcement, but appreciating pretty young women just as much as his son, when the ladies broke apart, he moved in for his share of hugs. "Welcome to the family," he offered.

"It may be just a bit early for that," Amanda replied, smiling, "but I'm very glad to meet both of you, and I hope to get to know you very well."

"That's better than what we've gotten out of him before now," his mother said flatly. Taking Amanda's elbow, she guided her toward the bathroom. "The two of you go ahead and clean up for dinner. It's already on the table. We've just been waiting for this laggard," she waved her hand at Carl, "to get his lazy buns home before we sat down. Hurry up now, we can talk over dinner."

Dinner was a lively affair, with the parent drilling Amanda for all the details of her relationship with Carl. She gave up most of them, reserving only the more intimate moments that they had shared. When it was over, it was very late, so Carl's mother installed her in the guest room for the night. Carl simply took over his old bedroom. She half expected him to visit her during the night, but surprisingly, they both slept alone, all night long.

The next morning, she found a terrycloth robe, thoughtfully draped over the bed's footboard (probably by Carl's mother). Feeling that it would be a little over-the-top to simply walk around a strange household in her normal sleepwear (a large T-shirt) she donned the robe and went searching for the kitchen. It wasn't difficult to find. All she had to do was follow the smells of coffee and bacon.

As she entered the kitchen, the lady of the house looked up and smiled brightly. "Breakfast is almost ready. How about you go and roust that layabout I call my son?"

Amanda swiped a piece of bacon and nodded, then went off to execute her mission. She peeked in the door to Carl's bedroom, and saw that he had gone to bed in his usual sleepwear (nothing). Not wishing to cause anyone embarrassment (including herself), she closed the door after entering.

She gingerly approached the bed, and gently prodded him with her fingertips. No response. She prodded harder. Still nothing. She placed her palms on his shoulders and started shaking him. His eyes stayed closed, but he smiled and grabbed her hands. Pulling her down, he gave her a big, sloppy, wet kiss.

When he allowed her to break the kiss, she backed up and climbed off the bed, pulling him upright as she did so. "Your mom says you need to get up for breakfast!"

"I think I'll start with dessert!" he declared, whirling her around and pulling her back against his front. He fondled her breasts with one hand, as the other explored further south.

"Come on Carl!" she moaned, "Your parents are downstairs!"

"I guess you'll have to be quiet then," he murmured.

"We can't do this... ah ... I ahhh..." she complained, as his fingers found her cleft, wet and ready.

"Sure we can," he replied, "just like this..." as he positioned his morning wood and drove it deeply into her from behind.

It didn't take long or them both to reach the point of no return. They had been experiencing a dearth of lovemaking, ever since Terry's collapse, and both were on the knife-edge of horniness. In only a few strokes, Amanda went over, and the rippling of her orgasm was all it took to finish it for Carl.

As soon as she got her breath back, she looked over her shoulder at him with a scowl. "You son of a bitch!"

He grinned at her. "You shouldn't talk about my mama like that. Besides, you love me!"

She sniffed. "My apologies to your mom, then. No mother should have had to put up with you! And maybe I do," she sulked, "but you take an awful lot for granted... Now I have to go clean up!"

"Go on downstairs and eat!" she ordered with a wry smile, as she hobbled off toward the bathroom, trying to contain the mess with her hands.

When she finally made her appearance at the table, she'd showered and changed into street clothes. Carl and his dad barely noticed, as they were packing in a hearty breakfast, but his mother gave her a quizzical look. In order to divert attention, Amanda sat down and asked questions about Carl's younger days as she helped herself to the food. Her efforts to sidetrack Mrs. Schroedinger seemed successful, as the proud mother began to regale her with amusing anecdotes about her son, much to Carl's embarrassment.

Breakfast was soon over, and as Carl returned to his room to dress, his mother told Amanda, "My husband and I are going over to see Mrs. Jensen before she leaves to go to the hospice. Do you know what Carl's plans are?"

"No, not exactly, but I believe he intended to go with Terry and Mrs. Jensen this morning. I guess I'll go with him."

Mrs. Schroedinger nodded, as if that were the answer she'd expected, and said, "All right then, if you wouldn't mind waiting for him, just let him know where we are when he comes back down." Amanda signaled her agreement, and they left the house.

Not long afterward, Carl came downstairs and asked Amanda, "Have the parents gone already?"

"Yes, they just left to spend some time with Mrs. Jensen."

"Well, let's get this show on the road then."

"Okay," she agreed, and they left the house to walk over to Terry's.

Setting the pattern for the next few days, Terry and her mother, Carl, and Amanda left to visit with Mr. Jensen. The elder Schroedingers stayed behind, preferring to postpone their visiting until evening. After her visit, Terry would leave the hospice as an emotional wreck. Mrs. Jensen would leave with unshed tears filling her eyes, but she had lived with her husband's deteriorating health for quite some time, and was able to handle it better. Carl's reaction was something between the two, but his maleness precluded a public show of grief. Amanda felt sadness and sympathy for her friends, but could do little to help.

Mr. Jensen held out longer than the doctors had expected, but after three days of hospice care, he finally died. He went peacefully, simply not waking up from his afternoon nap. The elder Schroedingers were waiting to visit with him at the time, so they took it upon themselves to call his wife, then Carl. Funeral arrangements had already been made, and a short but dignified memorial service was held at graveside, two days later.

Following the funeral, Carl and Amanda began to prepare for their to return to Pixel. Unsure whether Terry would be returning with them, they stopped by the Jensen household the next day. Terry's negative response to their invitation drew an immediate reaction from her mother.

"Terry, there's no need for you to suspend your life. Dad is gone, now, and I'll be fine on my own. I'm selling the house. I arranged with a realtor to handle the sale, right after he went into hospice. I'm going to move back to Wisconsin, so I can be nearer my parents."

"But Mom, this is our home! How can you just sell it like that?"

"Terry, you haven't lived here for twenty-five years! How can you even claim to think about this place as your home? In any case I can't afford to stay here. The survivor's benefits from your Dad's pension are good, but not good enough to allow me to maintain this place and have enough to live on at the same time."

"If I stay with you, I can get a job here and help with expenses..."

"Yeah? With what skills? You left home at nineteen, never went to college, and the only skills or professional credentials you have are related to sailing. You might could teach, but there are literally hundreds of credentialed sailing teachers in the Chesapeake basin, and they all have to do something else in order to support themselves. What else can you do that doesn't involve working for tips?"

"I don't know... I'll find something..."

Mrs. Jensen just shook her head. "Without your Dad here, this isn't home for me. It's a done deal. The house goes, and I go. If you want to be with me that badly you can come to Wisconsin, but I think you should get on with your life, and for God's sake find a man worth loving and stay with him!"

At that point, Terry fled to her room crying. Amanda looked to Carl with an unspoken question, and receiving his grateful assent, she followed. Carl and Mrs. Jensen stayed behind to talk quietly.

Terry was still crying when Amanda entered her bedroom, and laying face-down on her pillow to muffle the sound. Amanda went straight to the bed, and gathered the weeping older woman in her arms. Terry continued to cry, and railed against her mother's decisions, but eventually calmed down enough to admit that she really had no choice but to return with Carl and Amanda.

When she had composed herself sufficiently, Amanda helped her pack, and they returned to the living room, with luggage in hand. Terry's eyes were still red from crying, and her mother's own eyes began to fill when she saw the bags in tow.

"I love you baby," she declared, "and you can come to see me anytime... just please, try to live with a little more purpose? I worry that you will someday be old and alone."

"You mean, like you're going to be now?" Terry quipped, half-heartedly.

Mrs. Jensen smiled, "I'm not so old, and I have lots of friends back in Wisconsin... some of them are even guys my age... I might get lucky!"

Terry hugged her mother. "It'll probably be the guys who get lucky!" She kissed her goodbye, and throwing a bag to Carl, walked out the door with Amanda following.

Carl stood uncertainly for a moment, then he gave Mrs. Jensen his own hugs and kisses before he said his goodbye and departed.

The charter flight back to Beaufort, North Carolina, was comparatively uneventful, and thanks to prior arrangements with the marina, Pixel was ready for immediate departure. Before leaving though, captain and crew spent one more day at dock, inspecting, inventorying, and tweaking, while they reacquainted themselves with their standard watch schedule.

Two days out of Beaufort, it became apparent that Terry was not coping well with her recent tragedy, and had, in fact, fallen back into the same deep depression she'd suffered while transiting the Dismal Swamp. Carl noticed, and put into a marina just south of Wilmington, but was loath to worsen her condition by being critical. It was Amanda who suggested an alternative approach to dealing with the troubled woman's state of mind.

"You know, I don't think she's been laid since before you picked her up in New Jersey," she observed.

"Huh?" Carl responded, intelligently. Then he offered, "She's been ashore alone, several times this trip, and I'm sure she must have taken care of that. She's not usually a shy person."

"Dummy," Amanda spat back. "She was too worried about her dad to think about sex, and she probably didn't realize how much it added to her stress. Besides, what she needs isn't just casual sex. She needs cuddling and loving, and she needs to wake up in bed with someone she at least likes a lot."

"What exactly are you suggesting?" he demanded.

"Well," she observed, " I wasn't actually suggesting anything, but... I think a solution to her funk is standing right here in front of me!"

"You can't be serious."

"I think I am," she said flatly, her resolve strengthening. "You need to go to her and let her cry on your shoulders. You need to cuddle her and let her fall asleep with you, and you need to be there when she wakes up. The reason you have do it, is because you are the only person within a hundred miles, and at least several days, who loves her enough for it to matter."

"I won't lie," he said carefully. "If you weren't in my life, I'd be there for her, in a heartbeat. I do love her, but we've never really been lovers in the sense that I want to be your lover."

"Then why don't you go to her now?"

"Because I do want to be your lover, and I don't want to do anything that'll mess that up!"

She thought about it for several minutes. "It'll be okay. You need to take care of her, and I need for you to make her happy, at least this once. We can talk about the future in the future."

Carl clearly didn't like what he saw as a risk to his relationship with Amanda, and sat silently for a long time.

---

Terry awoke to find she wasn't alone. Raising herself up, she rested on her elbow, and looked down at Carl's face. It was well past time to get up, so she played a lock of her hair across his nose as he slept. She grinned as he made faces and wiped at the irritating stimulus with his fingers, but eventually he roused and opened his eyes.

"G'morning sleepyhead," she murmured. "I wasn't sure you'd still be here. Hell, I wasn't sure you were actually here at all."

"Now you know," he answered carefully.

"Yeah," she replied, "now I know. I also know you love me. Do you know I love you?"

"I always have"

"Loved me? or known that i loved you?"

"Both, but I can't stay here."

"Yeah, I know that too. I owe her big time, and I promise I won't make waves. I really do love you though, and now I love her too. If she wants anything I have, it's hers."

"I doubt she'll ever ask for anything."

"I know, but nonetheless..."

"Nonetheless, it's time to get up and see what the day brings," he declared, before he kissed her and got out of bed. Gathering his clothes, he said, "I need a shower, and we need to get ready to get underway. I'll take first watch if you want to sleep in."

She nodded. "I think I will. Sixes?"

"Yeah, I think so. I'll see you in a while." He kissed her again, and left as she snuggled back down into the covers.

Amanda was already up and preparing breakfast as he left Terry's cabin. He resisted an overwhelming urge to cover himself. It would be ridiculous, since Amanda had already seen him nude many times. On those occasions however, he hadn't just left another woman's bed.

"How is she?" Amanda asked, seriously.

"She seems to be fine, now," he answered, "and she feels very much indebted to you."

"She should!" Amanda quipped, with a wan smile. "It was probably one of the hardest things I've ever done..."

He crossed the salon and took her in his arms, saying, "I'm sorry baby. I guess I shouldn't have gone..."

"NO! I sent you, remember? But I know you enjoyed it, and I expect you to make it up to me..."

"I will, I promise..."

Sniffing, she pushed him away and said, "Go get a shower and get dressed. You can work on it later..."

---

Carl did put forward a great deal of effort, to reassure Amanda, and Terry never asked for a repeat performance. Amanda, however, was sensitive to her shipmates states of mind, and as Pixel made her way southward, Carl found himself evicted from the master stateroom often enough that it came to feel normal for him to wake up occasionally with Terry.

Amanda, for her part, drew comfort from the fact that Carl always returned to her with ardor and enthusiasm, regularly driving her to heights of pleasure and satisfaction. At first, she'd worried somewhat that his devotion might be stolen away by his long-time friend. When that didn't happen, she became more comfortable with the arrangement, feeling only occasional twinges of jealousy.

Gradually, Terry came to accept the unwelcome changes in her life, and to appreciate all that her friends, old and new, were doing to help her cope. Most of the time she was able to get through each day without suddenly bursting into tears, and on those occasions when she couldn't, Amanda saw that she got the support she needed.

The next hundred-plus miles of "The Ditch" were composed principally of land cuts and canals, with a few river segments thrown in for interest. Traveling the cuts and canals meant motoring, a great deal of the time, necessitating more frequent stops for fueling. Some of the fueling stops offered opportunities to obtain very fresh seafood at extremely low prices, right off the fishing boat.

Bridges, including some very uniquely designed ones, as well as a ferry crossing, caused significant delays. Some of the river segments offered good anchorages frequency enough to enable Pixel to stop for the occasional evening, while Carl assuaged Terry's sorrow. The relative peace of these anchorages went a long way toward promoting emotional healing and personal tranquility for all of the crew.

Carl yielded only one marina stop before Charleston. Pixel missed the last daylight opening of the Ben Sawyer Bridge, and rather than try to navigate Charleston Harbor at night, Carl felt it would be better to spend the night at the marina just south of the bridge. Alternatively, he could have backtracked to an anchorage, but that went against his grain. The marina had dockage available and he could afford it.

The next morning, as everyone aboard sipped their coffee, Carl announced, "We're running so far behind schedule, I don't think we can afford to stay inside the ICW anymore. I'd like to see the Patriot's Point Museum in Charleston, before we leave the area, and then head out to sea for a long jump down to Saint Augustine. That means one more night in a marina here in Charleston, so that we can start out fresh. Would you ladies like to have any input to the plan?"

When both women shook their heads "no," Carl turned to Amanda. "Baby, we've been running on inland waters the whole time you've been with us. You've never been at sea before, and you might not like it. Are you up for it? If you want, I can put you on a plane, bound for either Boston or Saint Augustine... or anywhere else you might want to go, for that matter..."

She shook her head again. The prospect of being out of sight of land was very daunting, but she felt she was committed, and needed to follow through.   "I'm not going to chicken out now. Is there anything I should do to prepare?"

"Not just yet. We'll get you a better-fitted PFD and some foul-weather gear in Charleston. We need to make sure we have some scopolamine patches, in case one or more of us gets seasick. Of course, we'll top off fuel and water, and fill the dents we've made in our stores, before we go." Both women felt that his plans adequately covered the necessary bases, so Pixel and her crew cast off and headed for the Charleston City Marina.

By the time they had secured her in a berth, and arranged for transport to the museum, it was almost lunchtime. Carl treated the ladies to lunch at the CPO Mess aboard the Yorktown, after which they took the complete tour of that vessel.

Leaving the Yorktown, they jointly decided to go next to the Clamagore, a vintage submarine also on exhibit by the museum. Explaining the odd name, Carl told the ladies, "All of the subs of this class were named after fish. A clamagore is a type of fish that lives in some Caribbean reefs."

Everyone seemed to be enjoying the outing, and they were about to join the queue to board Clamagore, when Carl stopped suddenly, stiffened, and stared straight ahead. Both ladies on his arms looked to see what had caused that reaction, but all they could see was a conservatively dressed blonde woman. She had stopped straightening the clothes on a boy of about twelve years to stare open-mouthed at Carl.

It didn't take too long before Terry's face showed recognition, but before she could act, or fill Amanda in, Carl turned on his heel and stalked away. Terry hesitated a moment looking in rapid sequence at Amanda, the unknown woman, and Carl's retreating back, before taking off after him.

Amanda, not understanding what was happening, was left standing hipshot with her own mouth hanging open. After a few awkward moments, not knowing what else to do, she approached the other woman and said, "My name is Amanda. Can you fill me in on what's going on here?"

The other woman stared at her and swallowed with some obvious difficulty, then spoke, "I think I can. My name is Anne, and this is my son, James. Let's find a place to sit down."

---