Deep Harbor

by Fern Michaels

  Donna spotted Maggie and her crew and waved wildly. “Mags! Randy! Derek!” They snaked their way through the throng of people, most of whom were wearing a T-shirt from one of the gift shops. Donna pointed that out to CJ. “See . . . crafts, shirts, tourists. Keeps the town alive!”

  When they finally reached the Wellington crew, Donna introduced Carolyn.

  “Derek, Randy, Gerry, and you remember Gina? This is my new friend Carolyn.”

  Derek was a tall, clean-shaven, physically fit man with dirty-blond hair and suntanned cheeks. He had a dazzling smile that was only overshadowed by his emerald-green eyes. His handshake was firm but warm. “Nice to meet you, Carolyn. Welcome to Boothbay’s Windjammer Days! This is my mom, Ellie, and dad, Jacob.” Everyone else greeted her warmly, and CJ immediately felt welcome. She reminded herself that she was Carolyn now.

  Derek was the first to jump in with “Can I get you something to drink? There’s just about anything you’d want here, including a special drink made just for the festival. But I have to warn you, it’s lethal! It’s called a Windjammer Slammer! Made with several kinds of alcohol and lime juice. I think it’s the juice that makes it so wicked.” He was genuinely warm and friendly.

  “Sure! Why not!” If CJ was going to experience this festival, she might as well go all in.

  “A girl after my own heart.” The words tumbled easily from Derek’s mouth. A very fine mouth, CJ noted to herself. Warm red lips. His tanned, handsome face was a nice contrast to what was probably light brown hair bleached dirty blond by the sun. He could have been a California surfer dude but lacked the vacuous look so many of them had. Looking at him, CJ thought, Like, wow, man. She started to blush when it occurred to her that she hadn’t felt attracted to a man in a very long time. Certainly not since Kick’s death. She searched her memory for the time before and came up blank.

  “You okay?” Derek shot her a sideways glance.

  “Oh yes. I’m fine! I could use something cold to drink.” Boy, can I ever.

  “Come on. I have a few benches reserved for us.” Derek led the way to the area where they were serving the somewhat lethal cocktail and handed one to CJ. “Here. This should help.” His callused hands reminded her of Kick’s.

  What surprised her the most were the next few words she uttered. “I had a brother who was an avid sailor. I lost him four years ago to a boating accident. Your hands remind me of his.” This soft side to CJ was alien even to herself. What was happening to her? Was it the air? Or was it that her hormones were going wild with the immediate attraction she felt to this stranger. A boat-guy stranger, no less. Cripes.

  She took a big gulp of her drink.

  “Yes, I heard. Sorry. We boaters take it very hard when a fellow is lost at sea . . . or in port. Anywhere, for that matter.” Derek wasn’t sure of the details, but he could imagine how painful it must have been for her.

  “Well, let’s not turn maudlin. I don’t know what came over me. I guess being here among all the schooners, sailboats, the smell of the air . . . everything reminded me of him. And, of course, sailor hands!” With that she smiled, pointed to Derek’s hand and her empty cup. “How about using them to fetch me another!” Clearly, the first one was having an effect on her. She was feeling quite playful!

  “You’re a brave woman!” Derek’s eyes lit up. “Let’s get everyone settled first, then I’ll go grab another drink.”

  They continued for several yards when they came across an area that was cordoned off with bunting and a sign that read: RESERVED SEATING.

  The entire Wellington family exchanged hellos with everyone they came in contact with. People would lean over to pinch Gina’s face, then she would shoo the next person away. Yes, the Wellingtons had been in Boothbay Harbor for a very long time, generations, as had Maggie’s family. It was easy to understand why each generation stayed.

  The cocktail was easing its way through CJ’s bloodstream, and that same warm sense of calm engulfed her again. She noticed that it came in waves. No pun intended, she thought to herself, ebb and flow. And “flow” was going to be the operative word from now on. Or at least for the moment.

  Derek took charge and motioned for everyone to grab a seat, leaving one for him open next to hers. It was a bit tight, which meant there would be less than a few inches between them. CJ was all atwitter. There was something about this man to which she was strongly attracted. Was it the sailor hands? The atmosphere? The Windjammer Slammer? Or all of the above? For one of the few times in her life, CJ decided that instead of analyzing it, she would just go with it. That too struck her. She supposed it was just another aspect of her makeover, inside and outside. On second thought, it was probably that Windjammer Slammer. But she didn’t care. She was feeling a sense of freedom she hadn’t felt in . . . well, she couldn’t remember that either.

  Derek returned with two cups of the dangerous beverage. As he handed one to CJ, his leg brushed up against hers. She thought she was going to faint. “You sure you’re all right?” Derek gave her a concerned look.

  She reached for the cup, trying to control her trembling hands. “Oh yes. Yes, of course. It’s all just . . . well a lot to take in. Thank you. That first one went down rather easily.”

  “And quickly! I guess I am going to have to keep a sharp eye on you!” Derek was teasing, but CJ was hoping he really meant it. She liked the idea, perhaps a bit too much.

  “Speaking of you, you look familiar.” Derek was now staring at her straight on.

  “The Uma Thurman thing? Some people say I look like her, but, frankly, I don’t see it.” She was trying to be modest.

  “Maybe.” Derek had a contemplative look on his face. It was something else, he was sure.

  The warm afternoon went quickly as the tall, elegant ships passed through the harbor. CJ understood why her brother had loved it so much. There was a peaceful quietude as sailboats of all kind moved gracefully through the water. She could see how Maggie was inspired to paint the majestic schooners. Off to one side of the harbor were dozens of Sunfish boats, the colors of their sails seeming to float against the azure sky and deep blue waters. It was a scene of breathtaking beauty. She was almost brought to tears by the majesty and splendor of it all.

  Looking at her again, Derek repeated, “You sure you’re okay?”

  In a hushed voice, she replied, “It’s so . . . so very beautiful.” CJ was coming to appreciate some of the little pleasures of life that she had been so indifferent to for so many years. The simplicity of things.

  Derek was giving her a blow-by-blow description of the schooners: who were regulars and how long they’d been participating, their ages, and the way in which they were all rigged in traditional fashion. Some schooners, he informed her, provided nonboaters a five-day sail for as many as twenty people. All those on board would participate in the actual sailing of the vessel, sleep on board, and share chores. Many of them on any trip were repeat customers who returned year after year.

  It was a lot to take in. The entire week was filled with events and parades. This was just the beginning.

  After a couple of hours of sitting idly, enjoying the camaraderie, and listening to Derek’s smooth voice giving her some of the history of the town, he suggested they get something to eat. CJ was delighted with that idea; she was feeling the effects of not one, not two, but three of those mind-erasing drinks. She wasn’t sure if she could stand up without tumbling into the other spectators. As she began to rise, she felt as if her head was made of fuzz and put her hand on Derek’s shoulder to steady herself.

  Derek immediately stood and tucked her arm into his. “Looks like those Windjammer Slammers gave you sea legs!” CJ was grateful for the support, but also nervous about the physical nearness of this man. Their arms were linked, and she could feel the heat of his body next to hers. If that drink didn’t make her faint, the proximity just might.

  She couldn’t help but giggle a bit. “I think I might be making a fool of myself,” she managed to whisper. When
he leaned closer to her mouth to hear what she said, she became flush and, without warning, threw up all over him. “Okay. Now I know I’m making a fool of myself!” CJ was mortified and tried to wipe his shirt with a damp cocktail napkin.

  Derek broke out in a thunderous laugh. “You’re cut off, missy!”

  “Oh my God! Oh my God! This is so embarrassing! I am so sorry!” CJ continued to wipe his shirt, shredding the skimpy napkin mixed with her regurgitated beverage. Her light-headedness evaporated with the hurl, and she was instantly sober. A little shaky, but sober enough to want to run all the way back to the triplex and die.

  Derek continued to laugh, as did Gerry and Gina. “Uncle Derek! You’ve got puke all over you!”

  “I think I should go.” CJ’s humiliation was growing with each passing second. “I am so very sorry.” She turned to leave, but Derek pulled her back.

  “You think you’re leaving me here with your drink and a few unidentifiable tidbits all over my clothes? I think not. Besides you’re not the first person to heave on me. Happens all the time on the boat. Sit tight. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.” He turned to his family. “And this landlubber is flagged. Randy, can you go grab Carolyn a Coke? I’ll be back in a few. Gotta change my shirt!”

  CJ didn’t know what to say next. Thankfully, blabbermouth Maggie had more than a few words to spare. “Bah. No worries. Kids puke on me all the time. And if you hang out here long enough, by the end of the day there will be a river of vomit!” She grabbed CJ’s arm and handed her a damp washcloth she pulled out of her backpack. “Like I said, kids puke. I always carry a few of these in a plastic bag! Here. Put it on your forehead. Luckily, you have good aim and hit Derek smack-dab in the middle of his chest and got nothing on yourself!” Maggie was light-hearted and kind, and CJ was more than grateful. She must have apologized a half dozen times mixed in with a lot of “thank-yous!”

  Randy returned with a huge mug of Coke and handed it to CJ. “Welcome to Windjammer Days! You’re now officially initiated! No one gets through their first without a little “give back”! Randy was smiling a grin similar to his older brother’s.

  “Thanks so much. I feel like such an idiot. Amateur, I guess, would be a better description.” She was starting to regain her composure until she thought about what to say to Derek when he returned with a clean shirt. Maybe something funny. But what? She looked over at Maggie, and asked, “Do you happen to have a bib in that bag of yours?”

  “I think it’s too late for that!” Maggie laughed.

  “I know. I want to give it to Derek when he gets back.” CJ winked at Maggie, who got the message loud and clear.

  “Now, that’s funny!” Maggie dug through her sack and pulled out a bib with a sailboat on it.

  CJ thought it was some kind of sign. A sailboat. Maybe Kick was watching over her? The thought gave her some comfort, and she let out a big sigh.

  In a very short time, Derek returned with a clean shirt and a beaming smile.

  “Let’s start from the beginning. Except no Slam-Yaws.” He held out his hand and introduced himself. “Hello. I’m Derek Wellington. Welcome to the Windjammer Days.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Wellington. Perhaps you should wear this if you plan on sitting next to me.” CJ offered the bib, which brought a roar of laughter from everyone seated around them. Derek’s eyes lit up at her sense of humor. It had been a long time since he had been in the company of a woman who could put a smile on his face.

  “Do you think you can choke down some food after that display?” Derek was eyeing her carefully.

  “Yes, I do. I think there’s room for some in there now!” CJ was enjoying the playful back and forth they were engaged in.

  “Excellent. Come. Follow me. I promise not to set you adrift among the sea of people.” His simile was not lost on her.

  “And you’re a comedian, too.” CJ was very pleased with herself, in spite of that revolting display of her inability to hold her liquor. Although that kind of cocktail was something she hadn’t consumed in years. Maybe since her college days.

  Derek took her by the elbow and shuffled her through the crowd. “There’s a little place a few blocks from here. Should be quieter.”

  The physical contact with this man who had total control of the situation was comforting, but also alarming. She was amazed at how much at ease she was and how natural it felt to be with him.

  As they made their way from the crowd, they came to a little bistro. It quickly became obvious that it was a place where Derek spent a lot of time. A hostess with a long gray braid gave him a hug and showed them to a table on the patio. “Joan, this is Carolyn. She’s visiting us for a month or so and working at the Wharfside. Carolyn, this is Joan, the proprietor and chef.”

  The two exchanged greetings, and Joan rattled off the specials of the day. “Do you need a corkscrew?”

  “I didn’t bring anything to drink, sorry.” He gave CJ a questioning look. “I wasn’t sure if you were up for it after your episode.”

  “I’m fine. Really.” CJ was actually feeling fine at that point. Too bad they had gone to a BYOB place. She could have pulled something out of her “wine cellar.”

  “I do have a nice unoaked Chardonnay in the back. I can give it to you if you promise to replace it.” Joan gave Derek the “I’ve got you covered” look.

  He looked at CJ with raised eyebrows. “You game?”

  “Sure. Just like the shirt you were wearing earlier.” CJ could not help herself. She was downright giddy.

  “Carolyn had a little accident earlier. She had a run-in with three Windjammer Slammers.”

  “First-timer?” Joan remarked with a knowing nod. “They go down smooth but can come back to haunt ya. I’ll go grab that bottle, and you guys can decide what you’d like for dinner. Derek, you probably know this already. Be right back.”

  “What do you recommend?” CJ was making small talk to cover her excitement. Had this become a date? Or was Derek simply being kind to a newcomer. A newcomer who had puked on him. She sat back in her chair and looked at him thoughtfully. Handsome. Strong. Kind. Personable. There had to be something wrong with this guy. But at that moment, she was taking in all the fine qualities of the man she had just met. And vomited on. She gave him extra points for being such a good sport about it. Now he was treating her to dinner. Or was it Dutch treat? That thought suddenly made her uncomfortable.

  “You okay?” Derek queried. Those two words were becoming a bit repetitious.

  “Yes. Please stop asking me. It’s been a lot to absorb.”

  “Obviously, because you couldn’t hold all of it in!” He gave her a winning smile and a wink.

  “Like I said . . . you’re a comedian, too.”

  “So tell me more about Carolyn Johnson.” Derek opened with a prodding question that CJ was not prepared to answer.

  “I think I’ve revealed enough . . . no pun intended. Tell me about you.” CJ was relieved that her brain cells were functioning at a normal level.

  “I grew up here. My dad and uncle were in the charter-boat business. My mom hated it. She always worried that something was going to happen to them, especially when the seasons with the rough seas arrived.”

  “I totally get that.” CJ nodded in agreement.

  “Right. You would know.”

  “Yes, but it was a freak accident. Some a-hole was drunk, ripped through the marina in a Jet Ski, and slammed into my brother’s boat while he was on board. It hadn’t even left the dock. So, crazy things can happen no matter what.” CJ’s mind went to Snapper, too. That was pretty crazy on all counts.

  “True. You could be sitting next to someone, and she turns around and throws up on your shirt.” Derek didn’t want to bring up unpleasant memories and thought one more gag about CJ’s drinking accident would keep things light.

  “Can we let that go, puh-lease? I will buy you a new shirt.”

  “Not necessary, but I appreciate the offer. So, yeah, the family business was steady b
ut not without a lot of angst. I actually went to college to try to make some other kind of life for myself. But here I am.”

  “Well, I’m glad you are. You’ve been a wonderful and forgiving host.”

  Joan brought the wine to the table and handed the corkscrew to Derek, who proceeded to open and pour. CJ raised her glass in a toast, and said, “Down the hatch! Correct? That’s what they say in seafaring lingo, right?”

  “Yes they do.” Derek was enjoying his newfound company as much as she was enjoying hers.

  Joan stood over them with one hand on her hip. “Ready to order?”

  CJ looked at Derek for some guidance. “Suggestions?”

  “Well, there are Ellie’s daily specials. Sure smelled good when I stopped by this morning.”

  CJ gave Derek a quizzical look.

  “Yeah. Ellie’s specials. My mom. That’s how she managed to overcome her panic with all of her men at sea. She started cooking, and now she makes boxed lunches for our customers and the daily specials for this place. Saved her life.” Derek was contemplative.

  CJ saw a brief cloud pass through Derek’s emerald eyes and brightened her voice. “Well, then, you must tell me your favorite!”

  “Pretty much everything! But the seafood chowder is a prizewinner. Start with that.”

  Derek continued his verbal tour of the area, giving CJ an in-depth view of the coastal waters. It was odd that she felt a sense of peace there with him, a stranger, and within several hundred yards of the biggest estuaries in the Northeast.

  More small talk ensued, dinner, then the walk back to CJ’s. She was trying not to panic. Should she invite him in? What if he tried to kiss her? Should she link her arm in his like before? So many questions were racing through her head. She silently admonished herself for feeling like a schoolgirl on her first date.