Closed Doors

by Nancy Radke

  A real man protected a woman. Gave her gifts. Her happiness made him happy.

  "As a thank-you," he finally said. "I know I'm sort of putting you through the grinder; helping me both at the office and here. I wish there was more I could do for you in return; something to really show my appreciation."

  "You don't need to, you know. I never expected anything." She buried her face in the blossoms, breathing deeply of the sweet fragrance, the flush on her cheeks complimenting that of the roses. "These smell lovely. I see you remembered that I like roses with a strong scent."

  He remembered all right. He remembered everything about her. When she was nervous, she moistened her lips, sometimes catching the lower lip between her teeth in a way he found endearing. When she was concentrating hard, she would swipe at her hair, continually tucking the wayward strands back into order. Her laugh was joyous, as pure as the call of sea birds to his soul.

  She was the most natural woman he had ever met. He would be happy to sail with her for days on end.

  He smiled down into her eyes, which were dancing with delight. Teacher, manager, friend... or more? She had dropped her professional air completely. She said she did not pity him, but how could he be sure? She could just be being nice. How long would it take before he learned exactly how she felt about him?

  He frowned and drew back slightly. He had to protect himself. If she turned out to be the type who only took in strays and birds with broken wings, he wanted to be able to walk away from her intact. He watched the happiness fade from her eyes; they questioned him as if to ask what she had done wrong.

  Jared barricaded himself against her hurt expression. He had been on guard too long to throw away all caution.

  As if to prove him right, she turned away, automatically reaching back and twisting her hair into a quick bun. "Shall we clear the table?" she asked as she thrust the pins into it.

  Ellen had donned her schoolmarm character; he could hear it in her voice. So much for roses.

  *14*

  The next morning Ellen noticed a subdued excitement hanging over the yards as everyone prepared for the launching of the Van Chattan yacht. It was like being backstage opening night at the theater, with all the cast and stage hands eagerly preparing for the curtain to rise.

  Ellen had just opened the computer files and made her first entries of the day when Jared called her to come watch the huge boat being moved out of the building and down onto the wharf.

  "Oh, but...." She looked first at Donna, then at the computer, her sense of responsibility at war with her desire to see what was happening. "I don't think I should leave...."

  "Go ahead," Donna said. "You need to see this."

  "Not much work gets done on launch day," Jared added. "Don't feel like you have to stay glued to the office. Come out and watch. Everyone else does."

  Not needing further urging, Ellen bounced to her feet and followed him to the boat. Sets of wheels had been attached to the two metal cradles in which it rested. As Jared and Ellen walked up, the crew was maneuvering the yacht outside.

  "Those are some doors," she said, noticing for the first time the two mammoth doors that had been cut into the side of the building. They reached just short of the roof, reminding Ellen of ones she'd seen on airplane hangers. "I was wondering how you would get her out," she said

  Jared chuckled, pausing for a minute as he coordinated the small procession. "Like building a boat in your basement?"

  "Sort of," she said, skipping nervously aside to get out of the way of a worker passing by.

  "The doors used to be much smaller. I was selling longer and longer yachts, and one day Richard told me we couldn't build boats any larger or we wouldn't be able to get them outside. I'd just sold a megayacht that was a hundred and fifty feet long, and I told him I wasn't going to unsell her—so he'd better cut some new doors in the side of our building, as tall as possible. I wasn't going to let something like that limit us." He grinned broadly. "So Richard cut them all the way to the roof."

  "Smart man."

  "Oh, yes. He finally figured out that if I sold a boat, the crew would build it, no matter what size.

  "Has the company always built yachts?"

  "No. My grandfather started out constructing fishing vessels—commercial and pleasure boats. We still make fishing boats. They're used off the gulf of Alaska, so they have to be tough. I use that in my sales pitch. Everyone wants a boat that will stand any type of sea, whether they'll ever sail into a bad storm or not. Excuse me." He called out a warning and ran forward, stopping the procession while a car, poorly parked, was moved out of the way.

  Excited by the spectacle, Ellen danced along behind until they reached the edge of the concrete wharf, then stood aside as they jockeyed the yacht into position. When they finally got her sitting sideways to the water, Jared rejoined her.

  "How do you launch her?" she asked, seeing no ramp of any kind.

  "We bring in a floating crane which lifts the boat up and sets her in the water. Two tugs bring the crane in and position it next to the boat. Then the crane picks her up—fairly high—and holds her there while the tugs pull the crane backwards, away from the wharf. The crane sets the boat down and she's in the water. It's quite a sight."

  "I'll bet it is." He seemed very busy, and after Ellen had watched a few more minutes, she dashed back to the office.

  "Everyone's so proud of the boat," she told Donna. "I don't blame them."

  Donna smiled back, her antagonism of yesterday not so pronounced this morning. "Everyone who’s worked on her comes to the launching. It's an event no one wants to miss. Even Clyde will be here." Her voice underlined how important that was to her.

  Ellen discovered Donna's words were true. The launching was scheduled for four p.m. and people filed in and out of the office most of the morning, all displaying a heightened sense of anticipation.

  Unable to keep her mind on office work, Ellen hurried eagerly down to watch the two tugs bring the large floating crane into the dock area, with Jared supervising. The crane loomed over the wharf, making the yacht shrink in size by comparison.

  George Malby, the owner's representative, was there, as he had been since the boat was first planned, letting Jared know what the Van Chattans wanted. With a floppy cloth hat pulled onto his head and a well-used notebook in his hand, George looked as excited as Ellen, watchful that nothing went wrong. He stood beside her as large double slings were passed under the yacht and attached to the crane, and told her this was the first private yacht he had ever captained.

  "Do you notice," he said, "how Jared takes care of details? That's the mark of a good company; when the owner is there, making sure things are done right."

  "He seems to be everywhere."

  "You're right about that. He has a sharp mind. Some of the best features about this yacht were his suggestions, which our architect then drew into the plans."

  Filled with pride over his praise of Jared, Ellen watched until the slings were lifted carefully into the air and all lines were taut before she returned to the office. Caught up in the drama of the launch, she found herself looking for excuses to go back. The other workers must have felt the same way, for each time she went down, some were there, milling around, gazing with pride at the final product.

  She met the Van Chattans around noon. Elenora Van Chattan, short and slim, dressed in an eye-catching light rose suit, appeared even more excited than her husband. Donna offered them both champagne, and after they finished, said, "Why don't you take them on down, Ellen. You can all watch the proceedings."

  Ellen wanted to see them anyway... and be closer to Jared. "Of course."

  "I need to get a few more things done," Donna added, "but I'll be down by four. I've seen it over and over again, but I never miss a launching." Donna would also get a lot more done with her gone than with her there, interrupting with so many questions.

  "Okay, then. Are you ready?" Ellen asked the Van Chattans.

  "Yes. Will Clyde make it?"
Mrs. Van Chattan asked Donna.

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Good.”

  They stayed close to the side of the building where its shade lessened some of the noon heat. As John Van Chattan stepped aside to let his wife walk in the deeper shade, he asked, "How is Richard Steel doing?"

  "Pretty good, I hear," Ellen told him. "Although he probably won't be able to come today."

  "We felt so confident, building with his company. He's lucky to have a brother so capable of stepping right in. Our "rep," George Malby, said they didn't miss a beat when Richard had his attack. Here's George now." He stopped, then took his wife's hand. "I'm going to join him, dear."

  "Fine. I'll stay with Ellen."

  "Love you," he said, giving his wife a quick kiss before turning away.

  "Love you, too," she said, holding onto his hand for a brief moment before letting go.

  He smiled back at her, a fleeting smile, but Ellen could see the happiness in his eyes. She wondered how long they had been married. They seemed very affectionate.

  "We chartered for years before we decided to buy," Elenora Van Chattan confided enthusiastically to Ellen as they continued on. "This is our first. We were going to start smaller, but Jared said that if we had the money, to at least build to the size we were used to. Otherwise, we'd be disappointed."

  "You certainly won't be disappointed in the Affinity," Ellen said.

  "Not from what I've seen so far. It's all I dreamed."

  "Are you going to be the one to christen her?"

  "Yes. I was worried about breaking the bottle, but George said the glass is covered with a fine netting that will prevent it from shattering."

  "Do you have gloves?"

  "Yes." She plucked at a pair slid into her purse. "I'm so excited. Most of my family will be here. It's mud in their eyes."

  "What do you mean?" Ellen asked. They had reached the launch area and paused to gaze around. The wheels were off the cradles by now and signal flags had been strung from lines both fore and aft, creating a festive atmosphere. Three large tents had been set up, with long tables in one of them. Picnic tables and chairs were being placed in the other two. Several seagulls had gathered nearby, expectantly.

  "Well, when I married John, my entire family rained doom and destruction on my head. We'd only known each other a week, you see. It was during the Korean War; John had to leave right after we got married. Our honeymoon lasted two days. Now look at us."

  "I can see why they were worried. Marriages have a better chance if people know each other well."

  "I knew what I wanted. I spotted it in him as soon as we met."

  "Which was...?"

  "A considerate man and a hard worker. I figured a man who didn't know how to work wasn't worth spending a day with, much less a lifetime."

  Ellen nodded, remembering the dedication Jared had towards his work. He worked hard, regardless of the fact that he and Richard had inherited the company. They had built it into what it was today.

  "John had a small next egg," Elenora pointed out. "We scrimped and saved to get a small business started. My family said we were out of our minds to work the hours we did. Then it all came together and we were off.”

  Ellen nodded. Hard work paid off.

  “He still works long hours. That's one of the reasons I pressed for this boat. I want him to enjoy what he's earned. He won't do it if he's anywhere near one of the offices. Our import-export business has grown worldwide, and although he hates to fly, he feels like he should drop in and check things out now and then."

  "Do you miss him, when you're at home and he's gone?"

  "I don't let that happen any more. Now I refuse to be left behind. ”

  “I see.”

  “John's a rather solitary person... likes to get completely away from his job and things, now and then. He bought us a house on Turnagain Island, figuring that would do the trick. It’s isolated, but people seem to find him wherever he is. I love our island home, but now when he wants to check out the operations in California or Thailand, we will sail there, together." Elenora beamed upward at the boat, towering over them. "Isn't she a beauty?"

  "A perfect jewel. I saw part of it yesterday; Jared took me inside."

  "Now there's a man."

  "Jared?"

  "Yes. He's a stayer. Just like John."

  "How can you tell?" Ellen asked, remembering the many women listed in Jared's appointment book. Elenora must be wrong.

  "His word is good. An honest man will always do you right. They won't lie about what is going on."

  Honest? In a way. But Jared had his secrets and he certainly knew how to keep them. To Ellen, he did not sound that much like John. "How do you know what Jared's like?" she asked, curious.

  "George keeps us informed. He's been working with Jared on this boat over a year. He says he's never met a man with more integrity."

  Jared appeared from behind the yacht and smiled heartily at them, sending Ellen's heartbeat up several points. "Hi, there,” he said. “Want to go aboard?"

  "Certainly." Elenora smiled back. "If it's not any trouble."

  "None whatsoever." He turned and called for one of the crewmen to bring over a portable ramp and set it at the stern of the vessel. "I would have put this here within the hour, anyway."

  "Thanks."

  "Having fun?" Jared asked Ellen as they waited for the ramp to be wheeled into place.

  "Oh, yes. It's fascinating. I don't want to miss anything."

  "Wait until the band gets here."

  "A band, too?"

  "What's a launching without music?" he grinned. "You have to have a band."

  “Oh. Absolutely.” Ellen smiled up at him, delighted that he had interrupted his busy schedule to make sure she was enjoying herself.

  "Like I said, he's quite a man," Elenora commented after Jared excused himself and hurried away.

  "Quite."

  "You wouldn't go wrong with him."

  "Are you matchmaking?" Ellen joked, as they strolled up the ramp.

  "Of course. I do it all the time. Successfully too, I might add. It didn’t take much, in Clyde’s case."

  “You engineered that?”

  “Donna was so sweet; I just had to match her with one of the greatest guys I knew. Clyde lost his wife several years ago, to pneumonia. He’s been lonely ever since. Hid it well, but John noticed.”

  The box of white slippers were sitting in the opening, and Ellen picked up a pair and put them on. Elenora looked at her white heels, then removed her shoes rather than fuss with the slippers.

  "Oh, you don't have to—-" Ellen began.

  "I know. But she’s so immaculate... so virgin. I want her to stay that way until she hits the water."

  Ellen agreed. In the sunlight the Affinity had become distanced from her construction, spectacular in her newness, an entity unto herself. All she needed to achieve her full glory was to be removed from the cradle and placed into the water.

  They stepped onto the spotless deck and Elenora did some quick dance steps across it. Stopping beside the sliding door leading from the dining area into the main salon, she pushed the door shut and opened it again, trying it out like a kid with a new toy; peered at her fingerprints barely showing on the perfectly polished metal casing, then used a tissue to wipe it perfect again.

  "It's a good thing you have a crew," Ellen kidded her. "You’d never get from one end of your boat to the other."

  "You've got a point. I never was "house proud" before this. We'll get her properly broken in next week. A few marks will help me relax a little."

  "Why did you call her the Affinity?" Ellen asked. She had been curious ever since she'd seen the name on the boat.

  "It's because John and I are best friends, and we want to keep that relationship going for the rest of our lives. You have to work at marriage, but if you marry a good friend—someone who is kind—you have a head start. You'll never regret it."

  "It seems to work well for you," Ellen said, re
membering John's thoughtfulness. Jared was thoughtful, too. And kind.

  "Let's go up to the wheel house," Elenora suggested. "We can see everything from there."

  The wheel house acted like an observation deck, letting them look down on the scene below. Breathing deeply, fairly bouncing with exhilaration, Ellen peered around, finding herself searching for Jared.

  "There he is," Elenora said, indicating two men approaching the yacht.

  Ellen looked that way, then felt disappointed. The older woman was pointing out her own husband, walking with a crew member.

  Elenora drew back from the tinted glass of the window and checked out the consul, which, with its many instruments and seven screens, looked more imposing than an airplane's cockpit. She indicated the room with a sweep of her arm. "I expect John will want to spend a lot of time up here, even though we did hire George as captain. A man likes to feel he's in charge, and I can't see John turning all the decisions over to George."

  Same with Jared, Ellen thought, as she finally spotted him coming out to meet John Van Chattan. "There's plenty of seating here," she told the older woman. "It won't be hard to join in."

  "Definitely. George chose the forest green decor. He was given ultimate say in the wheel house design, but I requested a lounge be included. This chair—here—folds out." She demonstrated, converting a chair into a recliner.

  "Very nice."

  They strolled through the rest of the ship, touring slowly, Ellen admiring the works of art located throughout. Fresh flowers had been placed in every room, the roses lending their fragrance to the soft June air. When they arrived on the top deck, they found Jared, John Van Chattan, and George already there.

  "Well, is she to your liking?" John asked, beaming at his wife as they entered.

  "How could she not be?" she enthused. "I love her. I couldn't be happier."

  Her husband turned to Jared. "Now that's the kind of remark a man would die for. It's worth more than any money."