Chapter 17
For a second he couldn't breathe. He knew he had lost his objectivity. He thought he might have lost his mind. He was certain he had lost his heart. He said, “I'll be right back.” He went inside and tossed a few toiletries and a change of clothes in a backpack.
Less than five minutes later, he slid into the back seat with her and said, “Have you changed your mind?”
She shook her head, and leaned forward toward the driver, “Please take us home.” The car slid into reverse instantly. The driver never looked at either of them in the mirror. Ray appreciated that. Somehow he did not want to see the look in the man's eyes.
They arrived at her condo twenty minutes later. Ray took the keys from Marcella and opened the door. Before they were inside, the car was gone. He was stranded for the night. Somehow he didn't feel upset about that.
She said, “It is still very early. Would you like coffee or a drink?”
He thought about that for a minute and blurted, “After that wonderful meal, I would love a glass of brandy if you have some.”
She smiled. “I have Armangnac for brandy-snobs. I also have a bottle of the cheap blackberry brandy my father used to drink.”
He put his head in his hands and laughed until he almost cried, “My mom and dad both loved blackberry brandy.”
“Did they give it to you as a kid for diarrhea?”
“Yup.”
“I don't use it for that purpose any more, but I do occasionally have a nip of it when I find myself missing my dad so much I can't stand it.”
“I don't know that I want all our parents present with us tonight, but I sure as hell would love a taste of that blackberry brandy. My parents loved it.”
She dug around in the back of the bar and came up with a dusty bottle of deKuyper, the same brand his parents used to buy. She poured them each a short glass and led the way to the lanai. Before he took a sip he said, “Oh, by the way, I've heard of Armagnac but never tasted it. I like cognac. Maybe sometime we could try that.”
She smiled. “Perhaps another night. Somehow I don't think you would get the full effect if you drink it after you get a snoot-full of this stuff.”
“Is it really that much better?”
She looked at him and drawled slowly, “Ooooooh, yeah.”
He sipped the sweet liquid which tasted a lot like cough medicine and laughed, “God, how could my parents drink this stuff?”
She giggled, “Keep sipping. It's kind of like beer. The first sip tastes really bad, but it gets better and better the more you drink.”
Her lanai faced the intracoastal waterway. Most boat traffic on the intracoastal stopped at night. They watched a couple of dinner-cruise tour boats go by. The lights of Sarasota twinkled in the distance. Frogs sang in the retention pond on the side of the house. They sat in a two-seated glider with their arms around one another. There didn't seem to be much to say. It occurred to Ray that he probably should have felt awkward, but he didn't. They had a comfort level with one another that surprised him. He thought perhaps the many hours they had spent fishing together had something to do with that. They were comfortable spending long periods of time together in silence and in close quarters. He pulled her closer, resting his chin on the top of her head, and realized he already knew a lot about her body. He had watched her carefully while she fished. They had worked together, shoulder to shoulder, to bring in large fish. His head told him he should be nervous. His heart said otherwise. Soon, she looked up at him with an invitation in her eyes, and his hormones took over.
As usual, he awoke at daylight. He stretched and reached for Marcella, but she was not in bed. He put on his underwear and went looking for her. He stopped at the door to the kitchen and watched her. She was sitting at the table, drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. She had showered and was still wearing a robe and a towel twisted around her hair. It took her a few minutes to notice his presence, but when she saw him she looked up and smiled, “Good-morning, sleepy-head, want some coffee?”
He walked over to her and kissed her, “I'll get it. You want a refill?” She looked at her cup and nodded. He picked it up and continued, “And what's this sleepy-head stuff, it's barely daylight.”
She laughed. “You wake up by the sun, whatever time it happens. I wake up by habit at 4:00 or 4:30.”
“That's what time you had to get up in order to have the boat ready for an early charter?”
“Yes. And Dad always woke me up when he got up, even on school days, in order to assure himself I was up and would not oversleep. I always got up, dressed, and then slept on the couch until time to leave for school. That was another thing that added to my reputation as a slob, I suppose.”
He put down her cup and sat down beside her. “What do you want to do today?”
“The weather is supposed to be wonderful and the tides are good. If you've got nothing else planned, can we go fishing?”
He laughed. “Okay, but we have to go early so we can get back early. I have to watch at least some of the football games in order to add a little color to my recap of scores. We should spend the afternoon at my house because I have the satellite dish with all the sports channels.”
“That sounds positively wonderful!”
“Is that sarcasm I hear?”
She gave him an innocent look, “No, it's enthusiasm.”
He laughed. “I think that will wear off pretty quickly. I am already getting tired of it. I can't wait until things get back to normal at the paper and I no longer have to double as a sportswriter. It's just too damned much work.”
She finished her coffee and said, “I've already packed the cooler. Let me get dressed.”
He said, “What are we going to use for transportation?”
“I called for the car. It's in the driveway. I sent the driver home.” She smiled, “Sometimes you've looked at that car with more lust in your eyes than you have when you look at me. I thought you might like to drive it.”
He laughed and said softly, “I really tried not to let you catch me coveting your car!” He stood up and poured more coffee. “Go ahead and get dressed. I would like to stop somewhere to get some sweats. All I brought was running clothes, and I think that will be too cool this morning.”
“Perfect because we need some more bottled water. I'll be ready in a flash.”
While she was dressing in the bathroom, he pulled on his running clothes and hung up the tux. He put it in her closet, on the assumption he would only wear it for events he attended with her. Then he went outside to load the car. She came out of the bedroom just as he finished. He stood in the doorway and watched her walk across the room towards him. He found it remarkable that there was still no awkwardness between them. Being together seemed like the most natural thing in the world. He was blocking the door and she looked at him with a quizzical expression.
That made him laugh. He knew she was already thinking about fishing, and had all but forgotten the night before. He hadn't. He pulled her to him and kissed her. She kissed him back, but he could feel the impatience in her body. She was not one to linger and dwell on events that were in the past, even wonderful evenings like the night they had shared. There were fish out there, and she was ready for them.
He ruffled her hair and laughed. She passed him and headed for the car, but she did ask, “What's so funny?”
“You. You are so transparent.”
She laughed. “You think so, huh?”
“Yeah.”
She simply raised her eyebrows and didn't say a word until they got to Wal-Mart where they split up to do their separate errands, meeting at the checkout counter. By the time they cast off the lines and headed out into the channel, he could tell she was annoyed with him. He could not figure out why. He sensed her bad mood pass once she started catching fish. She hauled in the maximum catch in only a couple of hours. It was still early. He pulled out the thermos of coffee and scooted down in the bottom of the boat, patting the floor by his side, “Come over here and s
it by me. Let's drift for a while.” He poured her a cup of coffee and held it out by way of inducement in case cuddling with him was insufficient.
She laughed and moved over next to him. They stretched out in the bottom of the boat reclining against a couple of life jackets. He put his arm around her and she rested her head on his chest. He took off her hat and laid it across his stomach, putting a hand on it so it wouldn't blow away. She put her other hand on top of his. They drifted in silence, each lost in thought. Ray caught himself half dozing a couple of times. He reached over his head and tossed out the anchor just in case they fell asleep.
Ray was more relaxed and happier than he had been in years. He was, therefore, worried when he noticed she was tense and nervous. He pulled her closer and whispered, “What's wrong?”
“I told you. I'm scared.”
“Why?”
“I can't explain it, exactly. As I told you, I have always been guarded with men. Whether it was in bed or anyplace else, Roland never expected me to be really open to him. Roland was totally consumed by his own internal fire and visions. Other people were merely the worker-bees who made his dreams become reality. He never got too close to any of us, not even me. I loved him, at least I thought what I felt for him was love. I don't know that he ever really loved anybody. I certainly never had to put myself out for him because he never expected me to. All I had to do was put up the public appearance of a society wife and have sex with him whenever he wanted, which, frankly, was very seldom. The rest of the time I was on my own.
“You, on the contrary, make emotional demands on me that scare me. You expect me to spend time with you, one-on-one. You want to know things about me that I have never shared with anybody, and am a little afraid to share. You want to talk with me. Not to me or at me, but with me. As in conversation. Back and forth. Two people sharing stuff. I've never done that.
“My dad was the boss; he told me what to do. I bitched and complained, but I did it. My benefactor gave me money and advice. I followed his advice almost to the letter because I was so grateful for what he had done for me. After that one time on the boat, he never once asked me what I wanted. He made it clear he thought I was too much of an idiot to have opinions that were worth considering; he told me what to do and I did it. Between his death and when I met Roland, I was on my own. I did not have very many personal relationships at all. I fell in love with Roland almost immediately. He was smart, charming, handsome. He fit into the world he inhabited naturally and comfortably. I wanted to learn to be that comfortable somewhere besides on the water with a fishing pole in my hand. I attached myself to him like a barnacle. He needed a wife, so it worked out well for both of us. Once again, I did as I was told. Nobody asked my opinion or my desires.
“You have made me realize I never really learned to have opinions or desires.
“Maybe that's what scares me the most about you. You ask me what I want. You ask me what I like, what I dream, what I think. Those questions make me think about what I want, like, dream and think. I have never expended any energy on those things. What scares me is what I may find if I were to let myself think about them.”
He held her tight. Those were indeed frightening things to ponder. He had spent many nights lying in the dark in fear and trembling contemplating those issues. He said the first thing that popped into his mind, “Believe me, I know what you mean. Two things you need to know. First, if I put any kind of pressure on you that makes you feel uncomfortable, tell me and I will stop. I swear it. Secondly, whatever happens between us in the future will in no way negate the wonderful time we've shared. Whatever you want to do or to be or where ever your life may take you, I will be here – and I will be your friend, at the very least.”
She suddenly relaxed against him and then she hugged him tightly, “You know, I believe that.”
It occurred to him that he'd lost one good woman by letting her walk away to pursue her dreams without fighting for her. He wondered if he was stupid enough to do it again, and realized he absolutely was.
They drifted and dozed for a little while. Too soon she murmured, “I'm getting hungry and those fish aren't getting any fresher.”
“I hear you.”
He started the motor and headed toward the marina.
She cleaned the fish while he cleaned the boat. They were back at his house in time for the beginning of the first round of football games. Marcella shooed him into the living room. She took a shower and then started making the lunch preparations. He did not make a move to start the grill, so she fried the fish and made Reuben fish sandwiches, with a side of hush puppies. She carried trays of sandwiches and lemonade into the living room.
Ray looked up at her and smiled. He looked away when he saw her reaction. He knew his smile must have conveyed the complete and naked adoration he felt for her at that moment. He could see from the sudden fear in her eyes, it was too much, too soon. He wanted to kick himself. Instead he forced himself to put on a more neutral expression. He grinned and patted the couch, “Oh, boy. I am starved and that looks fantastic!”
She set the tray on the coffee table. After they ate, they spent the afternoon curled up together like puppies on his over-sized couch, watching football. As his deadline approached for the morning paper, he excused himself and went out to his screen porch to file his story. By the time he came back in the house, she had cleaned the kitchen and living room, which both now were returned to their previous “show house” appearance. She looked up and said, “I'm kind of stiff from sitting around all afternoon, let's go for a run.”
“You don't have clothes with you.”
“Let's go to my house. I'll change. We can run there.”
“Okay. We need to get your car back over there, anyway. You drive your car. I'll drive mine.”
She shook her head. “I don't have a driver's license. I had a driver's license when I was a kid. After I moved to Chicago, I didn't need one. I have always lived in places where the public transportation was good enough I didn't need a license, or I had a driver.”
“Ok. I guess you can have your driver bring me home later.”
She looked at him for a minute and said softly, “ ... Or not.”
He smiled and said, “... or not.”
He put his running clothes on and packed a change of regular clothes, his toothbrush and shaving gear in his backpack. Neither of them said anything all the way to Longboat Key. He dumped his bag in the kitchen while she changed into running togs. They ran for as long as the light held out, then they headed back to her house where they stopped in the kitchen and drank a couple of bottles of water each. She stood in front of the open fridge, “The pickings are slim here. Do you want to go out for dinner?”
“Nah. We had a big lunch. I'd be happy with a sandwich or cheese and crackers.”
“How about an omelet.”
“That sounds good.”
She showered first and then fixed dinner while he showered and changed. They ate on the lanai, but did not linger because it was very chilly. They flipped through the newspaper. Neither moved to turn on the TV.
She yawned. “I know it's early. I am sorry. I get up really early, but that means I poop out early, too. I am going to bed. Please, feel free to stay up as late as you like. Watch TV. Carry on all you want. You won't disturb me.”
She stood up and made to leave the room. He followed her. “I'm tired too. It's been a busy and emotionally difficult weekend.”
She leaned against him, “I am sorry. I didn't even think about the fact that this was probably a big deal for you, too.”
They curled up together and she fell asleep instantly. Ray held her for a long time, listening to her even breathing and feeling her chest rise and fall. She never moved once she fell asleep. He felt very protective of her for some reason. She seemed so strong on the outside, but he had seen a glimpse of the frightened and lost little girl on the inside. He compared her with Victoria and wondered what one should call the opposite of a 'steel
magnolia'.
When he got up in the morning, she was not in bed. He went in search of her, and found her on the lanai drinking coffee, watching the fishing boats headed for the channel. He stood in the doorway and laughed, “Do you sit here every morning watching them.”
She looked up at him and he could tell she had been crying, “Yes.”
“And every morning you cry because you wish you were on one of them?”
“That, and because I miss my dad, and because I feel sorry for the kids who are working on those boats because so many of them have stories like mine. Sometimes that leads into crying because I'm sad or lonely.” She paused as if considering whether to continue, and she added with a rush as though trying to say it quickly before she chickened out, “Today, I think I was crying because I feel so wonderful.”
He smiled and said, “I hope so. That would make two of us.” He made a face, and said, “I have to go to work. Do you think you could have your driver take me home?”
“He'll be here in about twenty minutes. You want some breakfast?”
“Just coffee.” He fetched the pot and a cup for himself. He refilled her cup and sat on the glider next to her. He had much more to say than he could manage in twenty minutes, so he did not say anything. She rested her head on his shoulder and said nothing.
Way too soon, he heard a car pull in the driveway and a car door slam. Then the garage door opened and the Mercedes backed out into the driveway. The garage door closed. He chuckled, “I think my pumpkin-carriage awaits.”
She laughed out loud and walked him to the door, still without saying a word. It occurred to him on the way home that it could be a bit difficult to try to have a relationship with such a taciturn angler. The angler part was key, however. He knew that if he needed her to completely relax and open up, all he had to do was take her out on the water. On land she was awkward and out of her element. On water, she was .... well, “magnificent” was the word that came to his mind.
The car pulled into his driveway. He got out, feeling awkward. Marcella had always dealt with her driver. Ray had never even spoken to the man and did not know what to say. He simply paused by the driver's door and said, “Thank you.”
The driver's window slid down half way and he looked at Ray for a long minute. It was the first time Ray had ever see his face. He was perhaps a few years younger than Ray. He looked like a cop, all muscle and bone. Somehow Ray knew that he must double as a body-guard and that nobody would mess with Marcella when this guy was around. That comforted him somehow. Perhaps the fact that his thoughts were drifting along that trajectory was the reason the driver's words shocked him so. He said, “Mr. Bailey, I know I am way out of line to say this. I have been doing this kind of work for a long time. I have only worked for Mrs. Wilson for a short while, but I've been a driver and body-guard for rich people for more than thirty years. I know their ways. You seem like a very nice person and you are in way over your head. Please be careful.”
Baiting & Fishing Page 17