Glacier Gal

by Langdon, L.

  “A lot of people fish alone. I sometimes do myself. A few years back, there was someone who was called in to the Coast Guard as being overdue. So they mounted a search—with both planes and ships. They finally found his boat. It was empty and out of fuel, but they never found him.”

  Gerri felt a chill. “So what had happened?”

  “Nobody knows for sure. Most likely he fell overboard for some reason and couldn’t get back to his boat. Even trolling speed is faster than most people can swim.”

  “And he couldn’t get to shore?” Gerri remembered her desperate hope that she could swim to shore.

  “No. No chance. He was miles from shore.”

  As Gerri thought about that terrifying scenario, Sven checked the depth sounder and throttled the boat down. This was the signal that he had found a likely spot for fishing. Gerri jumped up, ready to start letting out the fishing gear. “Do you want me out on deck getting ready?”

  Sven reached out and took her arm to keep her from leaving. “Wait a minute. We’re not done discussing this yet.”

  Gerri looked at him apprehensively. He looked more somber than at any time during his dissection of her actions last night. Her heart pounded and she had to fight back tears. This is the part where he says that I’m fired…

  The Glacier Gal was almost motionless now, rocking gently in its own wake, but Sven seemed oblivious to that. He was looking outside, but without really seeing a thing. Finally, he turned his head back to her.

  “I’ve gone into great detail telling you what you did wrong. But you’re young and you’ll learn with time. But what about your old captain?”

  Gerri instinctively started to protest his use of ‘old,’ but she clamped her jaws shut. He was in no mood for an interruption.

  “Let’s talk about my mistakes. They were doozies, and I have no excuse for them.” He ticked off on his fingers. “My first mistake was being in such a hurry to fix the stove. It could have waited until we were anchored. We certainly didn’t need it while we were underway.

  “My second mistake—my big one—was leaving you alone to handle the storm. You’re a good student, but that storm was just too much for you to handle so soon. It’s…” He looked at her with a ghost of a smile. “You’re the teacher. I’m sure you can imagine. It’s as if I was a driving instructor who, after three lessons, turned you loose on a crowded freeway while I worked on something in the back seat.”

  Sven looked haunted and Gerri’s heart went out to him. This wasn’t the direction that she had expected in his comments. She squeezed his arm. “You’ve been good to me, Sven. I could have asked for help.”

  “I could have lost you, Gerri. I would never have forgiven myself—never.”

  She leaned into him and put her arms around him. “But you didn’t.” She looked for something to put a smile back on his face. “And I’m glad,” she added with a grin.

  That earned her a quick smile and a return hug. They stood there silently for a moment. Then Gerri couldn’t resist asking, “Why were you so anxious to fix the stove anyway?”

  Sven considered his answer. Here was a woman who had, in a short time, become very important to him. If he was to be honest with himself, he hoped very much that this morning’s love making would be repeated. At the very least, he hoped that the chemistry between them would stay intact. Yet, for all of her affectionate nature, this was just a summer adventure for her. Confessing that his judgment had been impaired by a surpassing desire to spend time relaxing with her might well make her nervous. He opted for the safe lie.

  “I don’t know. Just stubborn, I guess.” He looked around. “It’s time for us to get to work.”

  Chapter 22

  Sven took one last look around the deck before he was ready to declare his working day done. There would be no containers left unsecured to roll around during a storm. Ever. Finally satisfied, he turned toward the cabin where Gerri was finishing the evening meal.

  As he approached the door, he paused as he heard Gerri singing. He stood and listened for a moment. He never tired of listening to her. She created a mood of beauty in sound—much as Sven tried to create visually in his paintings.

  As a bonus, she was dancing in place—undulating in an innocent but most enticing way. He smiled as he stared. Their love making this morning had heightened his sensitivity to her. He had to remind himself not to scare her by being too aggressive.

  She must have sensed him in spite of his effort to be unobtrusive. She turned her head. “Oh, there you are. You took longer than I expected.”

  He came up behind her and put his hands on her arms—resisting the impulse to kiss her on the nape of the neck. Will I ever have a chance to do that? “Just making sure that everything is shipshape. Anything I can do?”

  “No, everything’s done. You timed it just right.” She grinned slyly and nudged him out of the way with her hip. “Just fill your bowl.”

  Stew: it sounded prosaic, but in Gerri’s inspired hands, it was a welcome treat. He glanced at the shelf where she kept the spices. There had to be at least a dozen, and Gerri had informed him that they were a bare minimum. During his time as cook, there had been exactly two: salt and pepper. Sven reflected—and not for the first time—that Gerri was worth her wages for her cooking alone.

  He deposited his bowl on the table and sat down to eat. As he swallowed his first bite, Sven rolled his shoulders and thought about how many salmon he’d hauled aboard today. “Today was a good day.”

  Gerri looked up, startled, and quickly dropped her eyes. Sven realized that he’d been misunderstood and quickly added, “This might be our biggest payday of the summer.” The last thing he wanted to do was to rub her nose in what she obviously wanted to be a casual interlude.

  She nodded with relief. “Good.” She had feared that Sven knew she was thinking about their lovemaking. If he was commitment-phobic, she mustn’t seem to be obsessing about it. Remembering his rolling of his shoulders, she added, “Never have sore muscles felt so good.”

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized the double entendre. Can’t I stop thinking about this morning for one minute? She frantically sought a change of subject. “And I want to thank you for that extra tutorial you gave me on the way here.”

  The storm was gone, but a heavy swell had remained. After they quit fishing for the day, Sven had used that swell as an opportunity to drill Gerri some more in piloting the boat in heavy weather. He had been more systematic in his instruction—having her successively maintain different headings relative to the waves, even at the expense of delaying their arrival at their anchorage. “You did well. I didn’t want you to think, after last night, that you can’t handle it. Even though I should have been there to oversee you, you were OK last night until you left the wheel.”

  “Yes, I get that now. The worse the weather, the less I can let my attention wander.”

  Sven nodded and eyed her covertly as he ate. Her eyes still looked everywhere but at him. He put on what he hoped was a casual, unthreatening expression. ”While we’re analyzing the day, this morning was pretty wonderful, too.”

  Gerri’s eyes flicked up and met his. “I’m glad you thought so; so did I.”

  Sven surreptitiously exhaled in relief. She hadn’t seemed offended. ‘Wonderful’ was an understatement, he thought. He ached to have another taste of her loveliness and her eager enthusiasm. How might that happen? He had to remember not to go beyond the limits: he was an instrument of her adventure—no more. “Are you going to be able to sleep OK tonight?”

  “I slept well last night.”

  That didn’t give him much of an opening.

  “Of course, that was when I was cuddled against you,” Gerri added, “You made me feel safe and warm.” She looked at him shyly, trying to gauge his reaction.

  “I slept well, too.” At least, once I stopped worrying about you and finally got to sleep… “We can do the same thing tonight, if you’d like.” Too bold, perhaps? “And I’ll
keep my hands off of you if that part of your adventure is finished.”

  Gerri stirred the dregs of her stew as she considered her response. She had loved the experience of being in Sven’s arms and she wanted more—much more. But this was a big step. She could convince herself that this morning was an emotional response to a life threatening crisis—for both of them. But she couldn’t deceive herself from here on in. To repeat their ‘adventure’ (no matter how she termed it) was to embark on an affair. And that was daunting. It was also, heaven help her, exactly what she wanted.

  Of course, the people in South Carolina would view it very differently: it would be an affair with a white man, and one who didn’t want commitment at that. All of the stereotypes about white men toying with black women would come into play. But that was only if she told her friends.

  Her mother would be disappointed—but Gerri was a grown woman now and her promise to her mother had been kept. She didn’t have to tell her mother either. And she could have a clear conscience about that.

  Thurman and others at Peedee State would be fulminating with outrage if they knew. She almost smiled at the thought. But it was absolutely none of their business, and she certainly had no intentions, unlike some of those oh-so-sophisticated big city girls, of sharing this part of her summer experience with any of them.

  Last, but not least, was the matter of Sven. Gerri had plenty of birth control pills left, so she wouldn’t be giving him any unwelcome surprises that way. And they appeared to have an understanding—partly unstated, to be sure—that this would be a fling which would not outlast the summer. That last did not please her—in spite of the talk about sexual freedom, Gerri hadn’t really comfortably adapted to the new rules.

  But she’d take what she could get. And she had to admit that ending the affair at the end of the summer was doing them both a favor. There was no way that a romance could blossom in the hostile racial environment of South Carolina.

  With that, she made her decision and grasped the courage to look up at Sven. “The adventure doesn’t have to be over.”

  Sven’s heart wanted to soar with excitement, but he wasn’t quite sure. He cocked his head in puzzlement. “Doesn’t have to?”

  Gerri played back her words. “Oh. That’s Southern talk, I guess.” She took a breath, reached out, and squeezed his hand. “I don’t want that part of the adventure to be over.”

  Sven felt that he must be grinning like an idiot. “Good. I don’t want it to be over either.”

  Gerri wasn’t quite ready to confess that she’d been thinking about their love making off and on all day, but she did feel emboldened. With studied casualness, she got up to clean her bowl. As she stood at the sink, she remarked, “You know, it really wasn’t what I expected. It was more fun than I thought it would be.”

  Sven, who had gotten up with her, reached for her bowl. “I’ll clean up—you cooked.” Then he smiled with barely repressed laughter as he realized what she had said. “What? You thought it wouldn’t be fun?”

  Gerri glared at him, suppressing a smile of her own. “If you laugh at me, I’m going to hit you.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Sven said, his smile getter broader.

  “I’m serious. I imagined that there would be passion, exertion, and sweat—and eventually…” She paused and gulped. This was not the kind of conversation that she was used to having with a man. “Eventually an orgasm. But I guess I didn’t envision laughter and joking as part of it. I liked that part.”

  Sven thought about that. Gerri was right on the mark. Sex with Laura had always had a serious air. In a way, Laura was a prisoner of her own reputation. She was expected to be a femme fatale and she couldn’t relax, lest she fall short of that mark. She was the girl who had it all, or so everyone told her—all except the freedom to simply discard her reputation. As he had been many times before, Sven was struck with a momentary wave of sadness. Nobody, including Sven, had simply loved Laura for herself. And her life was cut short before she could hope to change that.

  With Gerri, it was different. There had been no expectations, no pressure. And Sven truly enjoyed everything about her, so the sex was a natural extension. Yes, it had been fun as well as passionate, and it was a first for him as well.

  Gerri nudged him. “First, you laugh, and then you get all quiet. Say something.”

  Sven looked at her and put down the bowl he was cleaning. He slowly tilted her face up for a kiss. As she returned it, his arms slowly embraced her. He held the kiss until they were both out of breath. Still embracing her loosely, he said: “I was thinking about what you said. It had never occurred to me, but it’s true. And I liked that.” His smile became mischievous. “You know what they say: From the mouths of babes…”

  Gerri was immensely pleased at his approval, but didn’t want to admit it. She scowled and thumped his back. “Babes? You think I’m that young?”

  Sven laughed. “I’ve always thought you were a babe. A real babe.”

  “Good recovery, mister.”

  “Except of course when I thought you were a guy.”

  ___

  Gerri took longer than usual getting ready for bed that night. She had to dig through her bag to find the nightgown that she had packed but never used. She also took extra time making sure that she was especially fresh and clean. The more she prepared, the more she thought about the course she was embarking on. The more she thought about that, the more she got nervous. By the time she left the fo’c’s’le and got to Sven’s bed, she had worked up a real case of nerves.

  Sven was lounging in his bed, calmly reading a book. He wasn’t wearing anything above the waist. He had a cover loosely thrown over him, so Gerri couldn’t see anything else. Her mouth went dry thinking about it.

  “I’m sorry I took so long. It took me a while to find this.” She grasped the nightgown in each hand and stretched it in front of her, as if inspecting it. Her mother had purchased it for her so, needless to say, it was modest. It was full length with some ruffles around the collar, but no lace or revealing décolletage. It’s white color connoted innocence, although Gerri didn’t feel very innocent at the moment.

  Sven had been staring at her covertly since she walked through the door. “I like it. It looks very feminine; very demure.”

  Is ‘demure’ what I want at a moment like this? Wouldn’t ‘sexy’ be better? Like I have a choice! “Umm…thank you.”

  Sven looked at her more closely. She was obviously uneasy. Is she having doubts? She’s adventurous, but this must go against the grain—after all, 24 hours ago she was a virgin. He didn’t want to rub her nose in what they were about to do, so he decided to omit ‘alluring’ and ‘enticing’ from his description of her nightgown. “Come join me,” he said, “It’s been a long day.”

  She scrambled into the bed and, pulling the covers up, leaned against him. He pulled her into a long kiss. Between her lips moving against his and her body wriggling against his, he groaned. He was determined to take it slow, but she was testing him. More to remind himself than anything else, he whispered, “Let me know if I’m going too fast. I don’t want to push this.”

  Gerri barely heard him. She loved the feeling of his solid body against hers. In fact, she could feel his erection and couldn’t resist grinding her hips against him. I guess I don’t need to worry about him not saying ‘sexy.’ The covers that she had pulled up a moment ago now seemed too warm and too restricting. Her case of nerves had evaporated at his first touch. She wanted to touch him, skin to skin. The nightgown with which she had wanted to impress him just seconds ago was now an impediment. Would I seem too, umm, brazen if I asked him to take it off?

  She was spared that decision, however, as Sven spoke. “Do you mind if I take your gown off?”

  She found the tentativeness in his voice oddly reassuring, but she couldn’t resist teasing him anyway. “Are you afraid of ripping another garment? You could get a reputation here.”

  Sven laughed. “We couldn’t have
that, could we? Anyway, your gown is too pretty to rip.”

  Gerri sat up and shifted her weight to help him remove her gown. As he did so, she watched his eyes, and glowed from the appreciation that she saw there. When he finished, she lay back down, splaying her arms as she smiled at him. She couldn’t believe how deliciously wanton she felt. Her old insecurities seemed meaningless now—there was no doubt that Sven appreciated her body.

  Sven feasted his eyes as Gerri lay back gracefully. He had to remind himself not to pounce on her and, as so frequently happened to him in gazing on some scene of beauty, he imagined how he might paint her as she was now. The brown of her torso merging to the darker color of her pelvis, the shadows of her face, and the curve of her breasts as they lay back against her chest—with the whole tableau set off vividly by the white bedding. Last, but not least, she had the slightly smug, slightly challenging, and totally arousing expression of a woman who knows that she’s appreciated. He sighed.

  “Getting an eyeful?”

  Sven tucked his fantasies about painting her into the back of his mind. He would never do it without her permission, and he was willing to bet that her permission would never be granted. On the contrary, the idea would horrify her. But that expression of hers… Maybe he’d find a way to work it into a more modest portrait. Someday. Of course, he had more important things to think about now. “Yes, and a beautiful one at that.”

  Gerri tugged at the cover. “My turn.”

  Sven quickly slipped his underwear off. “I don’t want you to be labeled as a ripper of clothing, either.”

  Gerri giggled at the thought. “I’m not worried. Nobody would believe you.”

  He lowered himself to lie beside her, his face only inches from hers. One arm supported his head while his other hand caressed her belly. “Your skin is so soft. How do you do that?”

  Gerri took a breath. His hand was so hot. But rough—definitely no soft skin there. She considered his question, but she wasn’t ready to spill her secrets just yet. She remembered from those same sophisticated girls that ‘guys like what we do,’ meaning makeup and lotion, ‘but they get annoyed when they see it being done.’ Gerri didn’t use makeup, but she had to plead guilty on the lotions. She parried his question. “Do you like it?”