Comfortable Distance

by Kenna White

  They settled into a comfortable pace, the wind pushing them steadily across the sound. Hartstene Island was thickly forested with a narrow band of rocky shore separating the dense woods from low tide. Two dozen sailboats dotted the horizon, skating across the water in one direction then the other as if they had no particular destination in mind.

  “What would you like to drink, Juliana?” Jamie said, descending into the cabin. “Coke, lemonade, iced tea?”

  “Do you have root beer?” she timidly asked.

  “Let’s see.” She squatted in front of the small refrigerator. “Coke, raspberry tea, 7Up, ah ha,” she said, dragging out a brown bottle. “Draft root beer.” She popped the top and handed it up to her, but Juliana still had both hands on the tiller.

  “Um, I can’t hold it.”

  “You can steer with one hand.”

  “I better not,” she said, looking over at Dana.

  “You want me to steer while you drink your pop?” Dana stretched out a hand to hold the soda.

  “Yes,” she said and let go of the tiller to take the root beer. The boat lurched to the east, the sails fluttering in the wind.

  “Juliana!” Dana gasped and grabbed the tiller as it swayed to the side.

  “Oops. Sorry.”

  Jamie laughed and shook her head.

  “Forty-three degrees, Dana,” she said, returning to the galley.

  “Aye-aye, skipper.” Dana sat down on the seat and steered easily.

  “What would you like? Root beer? I think there’s one more? Lemonade?”

  “Lemonade sounds good.”

  It took a few minutes before Jamie returned on deck, carrying two tall glasses with a sprig of mint floating on the top.

  “Lemonade,” she said, handing one to Dana before closing the hatch door and sitting on top of it.

  “Yum, this is wonderful,” Dana said after taking a sip. “What brand is this?”

  “Dr. Hughes’s all-natural, all-organic fresh-squeezed lemonade.” Jamie took a long drink.

  “You made it? You squeezed the lemons fresh? I just open the bottle and pour it over ice.”

  “That isn’t lemonade. That’s a mixture of citric acid, artificial sweeteners and preservatives.”

  “It tastes like lemonade. Although it isn’t nearly as good as this.” Dana took another drink. “Ruth Ann was right. She said you were one of those people who knows what’s in everything.”

  “Oh, she did?”

  “Yes.What was it she said? Jamie knows why deodorant keeps you from having BO and why milk curdles one day after the expiration date. She said it in a kind way though,” Dana added.

  “Ruth Ann calls me up to ask if she should buy grapes from Mexico and why. I think I’m on her speed dial as a consumer reference. Last week she called from the supermarket to ask if the red lines in the tuna steaks were contamination.”

  “Are they?”

  “No.” Jamie laughed.

  “Then you’re a good person to know.A wealth of information at the touch of a button.”

  “I guess.”

  “Jamie, look!” Juliana called from her perch on top of the cabin. “Is that a seal?”

  “Yes, a harbor seal. Scientific name, Phoca vitulina. He’s probably looking for lunch.”

  “What does he eat?” Juliana asked.

  “Fish, specifically salmon.”

  “Me too,” Dana said.

  “I bet you don’t swallow them whole though.”

  “He can swallow a whole fish?” Juliana made a ghastly face.

  “Sure. Slides right down.”

  “Yuck.”

  “My thoughts, exactly,” Dana added.

  “We eat oysters whole. Oysters on the half shell slide right down,” Jamie said, poking the mint down in her glass.

  “Oh, no, we don’t,” Dana said, swallowing as if she was seasick.

  “What? You don’t like oysters?”

  “No. They’re slimy. Eeeewww.” Dana shuddered.

  “I take you for a shrimp person. Shrimp cocktail, deep fried shrimp.”

  “Yes. How’d you know?”

  “Just a guess.”

  Dana studied her, wondering how Jamie knew that she loved shrimp. A trip to Seattle’s Pike Place Market wasn’t complete without a shrimp cocktail from her favorite fish vendor. She knew about everyday life without sounding pompous about it. Dr. Jamie Hughes was a curiously knowledgeable woman, and Dana realized she was deeply respectful of her insights.

  “How far are we going?” Dana said, checking her course and adjusting for drift. “Are we going to turn around at the buoy?”

  “I thought we’d head up Case Inlet on the other side of Hartstene Island. The wind should make it a pleasant trip. Just fresh enough to keep the sails full.”

  “I’ve heard that expression around the dock. Is ‘fresh’ a term for wind speed?”

  “Yes. About ten to fifteen knots. It’s a great day for sailing. Any stronger and we’d be a slave to the boat.”

  “You mean continually adjusting the sails?”

  “Yep. She’ll run with the best of them but it’s not as relaxing.”

  “Do you race?” Dana asked.

  “Not since I was younger. I don’t have the time or the energy for that.”

  Juliana played around on the deck like a monkey in a tree. First on one side then the other, watching Jamie trim the sails for a smoother ride. Dana steered for the tip of Hartstene Island and the mouth of Case Inlet. She was surprised how easy it was to sail a thirty-foot boat. Compared to the small Laser, she expected to have to fight the tiller for control.

  Jamie was a cordial hostess, answering every one of Juliana’s questions, no matter how petty and chatting happily with Dana about boats, sailing classes and Ringlet’s latest adventures.She was gracious enough not to mention Shannon in front of Juliana.

  “How many years have you been doing syndicated cartoons?”

  “Six. Ringlet has been a three-year-old Scottie for six years.”

  “Rather like Garfield the cat. He never seems to age.”

  “I thought you didn’t look at the comics,” Dana said.

  “I don’t. But every year my sister sends me a Garfield coffee mug on my birthday. I have a box full. She seems to think he’s funny. Do you want one?”

  “No, thank you. I get mugs with Scotties on them from my publisher all the time.”

  “You can only use so many coffee mugs,” Jamie said.

  “Dad said you can never have too many coffee mugs,” Juliana said, nonchalantly eavesdropping on their conversation. She had finished her root beer and was meticulously peeling the label and depositing it inside the bottle. “Gary said coffee is the instrument of the devil.” She looked back at Dana and frowned. “Then he said something else but he whispered it in Dad’s ear. It made him blush.”

  “Who is Gary?” Jamie asked.

  “My dad’s boyfriend. He’s nice.” Juliana didn’t seem at all shy about confessing her father was gay.

  “Gary Finch,” Dana said. “Aka, Gary and the Grinders. It’s a jazz band.”

  “Gary plays a mandolin and a twelve-string guitar,” Juliana said proudly. “He can play the guitar with his feet.”

  “I bet,” Jamie said. “So your brother is a lawyer and his partner is a musician.”

  “Boyfriend,” Dana clarified. “They’re still just dating. Gary hasn’t moved in yet.”

  “Dad says he isn’t ready for Gary to move in. He has too many suitcases.”

  “Too many suitcases?” Jamie asked.

  “Yep.” Juliana said it as if she knew what she was talking about.

  “I believe what Steve meant was Gary has some baggage,” Dana said.

  “Oh, those kind of suitcases.” Jamie winked at Dana as if to signify she understood.

  “Look, Jamie. Here comes a big tugboat.” Juliana crawled to the front of the cabin to watch.

  “He’s pulling a barge of some kind,” Dana said, easing the tiller to
offer clear passage to the cumbersome boat.

  “Probably an empty sawdust barge. Looks like he is on his way to the sawmill at Shelton.” Jamie adjusted the sail to accommodate the new heading. “Give him plenty of room, Dana. He’ll make a wide turn.”

  “Should we stop?”

  “No. Normally we’d have the right-of-way, sailboats over powerboats, but he’d have trouble getting out of our way. We’ll give him a clear channel. They watched as the noisy tugboat chugged past, pulling an empty wooden barge. Juliana waved, eliciting several blasts on the tug’s horn.

  “Can we blow the horn?”

  “Go ahead, Dana. Give it a blast.”

  “Where is it?” she said, scanning the gauges.

  “Red button to the left of the ignition switch.”

  Dana gave a toot.The tugboat captain waved.As they rounded the end of the island and came more northerly, the wind crossed the bow and fluttered through the jib.

  “The wind has swung around. That’s good news, team.” Jamie sprang into action. “Come on, Juliana. Help me raise Old Betsy.”

  “What’s Old Betsy?” Juliana followed her to the small forward hatch.

  “Old Betsy is the most gorgeous sail you’ve ever seen. She’s older than the boat and she weighs a ton but she’s a proud lady.” Jamie pulled a large canvas bag to the hatch opening. “Can you hand me that clip?” she said, signaling the end of a rope dangling against the mast. Juliana grabbed the clip and hooked it onto the grommet on the corner of the sail as Jamie held it up. Little by little they raised Old Betsy, attaching hooks to the corners of the sail as it slipped out of the canvas bag.

  “That’s the last one, Juliana. Let’s hoist her into place.”

  As Jamie pulled the ropes through the winch and cranked the huge sail aloft, the yellow and white spinnaker filled with air and threatened to take flight from the bow of the ship. Dana and Juliana both watched in amazement as Old Betsy proudly billowed into service. It billowed beyond the tip of the bow like a huge hot air balloon turned on its side.

  “She’s an old, well-patched spinnaker, but she’s the biggest spinnaker this boat can raise.” Jamie adjusted the mainsail and boom and Old Betsy doubled their speed. The boat knifed through the water, slapping at the waves and sending spray high in the air. Juliana giggled and squealed as she held onto the railing. The wind around the edges of the sail fluttered through their clothes and hair like a ride in a convertible.

  “Wow!” Dana gasped, holding onto the tiller with both hands.

  “Absolutely, wow.” Jamie made a few minor adjustments to the rigging as if it was good but not yet perfect. All three of them grinned like children on Christmas morning as they raced along. For Jamie, it seemed to be a sense of pride and achievement, solving the mystery of the wind. For Juliana, just plain fun. For Dana, a thrill and a sense of accomplishment at skippering a thirty-foot sailboat on Puget Sound.

  “How are you doing, Dana?” Jamie asked, crawling under the boom.

  “Great.” Dana knew she had a stupid grin plastered across her face, but she didn’t care. “I didn’t know a sailboat could go so fast.”

  “Juliana, come sit back here,” Jamie called over the rushing wind. She helped her down into the steering cockpit. “Let’s see what we can do.”

  Jamie took the tiller, propped one foot up on the bench, and peered under the edge of the sail. From her position she could trim the sails and steer the boat. She pulled the rope to tighten the boom. “Sit on that side with Juliana,” she said to Dana, who obeyed. The boat heeled to port, slicing through the water, and gaining even more speed. The sails and rigging groaned and creaked under the pressure but kept the pace. It was as if Jamie was testing her skills and the boat’s capacity to perform. She never seemed completely satisfied enough to give in and enjoy the ride. The collar of her shirt flapped against her neck as if urging her on to an even better performance, stretching her abilities to the limit. Dana could see it on Jamie’s face. The boat was challenging her and she wasn’t giving in. Jamie set her jaw and wrinkled her brow in concentration, almost oblivious to everything else around her.

  “Faster, Jamie. Faster,” Juliana said gleefully.

  She obliged, cranking the winch a half-turn and stretching the spinnaker seemingly to the limit. Dana’s stomach tumbled and fluttered like a luffing sail as the boat responded with an extra surge. The more speed Jamie extracted from the boat, the tighter Dana held Juliana’s hand. But Juliana didn’t seem afraid. She leaned and bobbed with the rolling action of the hull over the waves, giggling with each jolt. Just as Dana was sure the boat couldn’t possibly go any faster, Jamie turned the tiller, heading dead downwind.The boat skipped over the waves and nearly took flight as it raced across the inlet. Dana gasped, unable to catch her breath. She closed her eyes as the wind struck her square in the face. She tried to speak but could only manage a gurgle. Juliana began to laugh and couldn’t stop, gulping for breath. Jamie held the course toward the eastern shore, slowly pulling a satisfied smile.

  “Jamie,” Dana finally managed to say. “JAMIE!”

  Jamie heaved a sigh as if pleased then eased the tiller over, relaxing the strain on the sails.

  “Aw!” Juliana complained as the boat slowed and turned north.

  “Thank you,” Dana said, ashamed of herself for being such a sissy.

  “How was that?” Jamie asked the grinning Juliana.

  “Yeah. That was great.” She had the hicups from laughing.

  “Definitely fast,” Dana said, trying to catch her breath.

  “Old Betsy can still haul tush,” Jamie said, releasing the tension on the winch. They once again settled into a comfortable speed up the eastern coast of Hartstene Island. “In sail life, Old Betsy would be over a hundred years old.”

  “I’m impressed,” Dana said, trying not to cheer as they slowed down.

  “Juliana, we’re looking for a dock with a blue sailboat. It’ll be on the port side. There will be a staircase up the hill next to the dock.”

  “Are we stopping?” Dana said.

  “Yes. To see an old friend. I thought we’d stop for a few minutes. Maybe I can talk her into fixing lunch.”

  “No, no, Jamie. Don’t bother anyone. I brought snacks and bottled water.”

  “There it is, Jamie.” Juliana pointed.

  Jamie motioned for Dana to take the tiller while she lowered the spinnaker. “Give a couple blasts on the ship’s horn, Juliana. Let them know we’re coming.”

  Juliana happily lay on the horn, giving several loud blasts. Jamie lowered the mainsail and allowed the boat to drift the last fifty feet. When they were within reach, she jumped onto the dock, guided the boat into place, and then tied the lines.

  “Jamie, really. I don’t want to show up at someone’s house unannounced.”

  “I do.”

  Chapter 10

  “Jamie!” a woman screamed from the top of the wooden staircase attached to the hillside. “Is that you, sweetheart?” She eagerly bounced down the steps and wrapped Jamie in a hug. She was a gorgeous woman in her fifties with a well-tanned body and a streak of silver running through her brown hair. She wore shorts, a tank top with no bra, and was barefoot in spite of the rustic conditions.

  “Dusty, I’d like you to meet some friends of mine,” Jamie said, waving Dana and Juliana to the side of the boat. “This is Juliana Robbins, first mate.” She held Juliana by the waist and helped her onto the dock. “Ladies, meet Dusty Hooten.”

  “Hello, Juliana,” Dusty said and gave her a hug.

  “Hi.”

  “And this is Dana Robbins, helmsman and second mate.” Jamie helped Dana ashore as well.

  “Hello, Dana.” Dusty smiled broadly and offered a warm handshake.

  “How do you do, Dusty? I’m sorry we just popped in on you like this. I told Jamie it might not be a convenient time.”

  “Of course it’s a convenient time. Come on up to the house. I was just about to make lunch.” Dusty wrapped an arm arou
nd Juliana’s shoulders and led her up the steps, chattering all the way about how good it was to see Jamie, how long it had been, and how wonderful it was to have company for lunch. I have no idea who this woman is, but she’s obviously glad to see Jamie, Dana thought.

  When they crested the hill Dana could see a modest, two-story house nestled between tall fir trees. The lower floor was half garage.The upper floor consisted of windows and glass doors that led to a deck stretching the full length of the house. Several rocking chairs, a chaise lounge, table and chairs, and a gas grill lined the deck. A white cat was walking the railing, precariously close to the edge.

  “You know better than that, kitty,” Dusty called up at it. “Get down before you fall again.”

  “She fell off the deck?” Jamie chuckled.

  “Yes. Stupid cat. She landed in the rhododendron bush.”

  “Was she hurt?” Dana asked fearfully.

  “Not a scratch. She got up, gave a hideous meow and went right back up there.”

  “Can I pet her?” Juliana said.

  “You can have her, cupcake. Be my guest.”

  “No, Juliana,” Dana smiled at Dusty. “She’d take home a piranha if I’d let her.”

  “Juliana is Dana’s niece,” Jamie explained.

  “Wow. Really? They look so much alike. I thought this was her mother.”

  “Yeah. Scary, isn’t it?” Dana chuckled.

  “And someday I’m going to have boobs just like Aunt Dana’s,” Juliana said proudly.

  “Juliana!” Dana blushed and wrapped her arms Juliana, covering her mouth.

  “And so you should,” Dusty’s eyes twinkled.

  “She’s twelve. Her horizons are small,” Dana said, smoothing Juliana’s ponytail.

  “Someday you’ll have great boobs, Juliana,” Dusty said, winking at her. “Just don’t be in a big hurry to get them. Take it from me. The best boobs don’t come until you’re a lot older.”

  “Or when you least expect them,” Dana said.

  “Can you believe it?” Dana said. “I’m talking about boobs on an island with a perfect stranger.”

  “Hey, Jamie. Did you hear that?” Dusty elbowed Jamie in the ribs. “She thinks I’m perfect.”

  “It’s only because she doesn’t know you, Dusty.”