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Authors: Patricia Watters

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She looked at
Will, and there was no question he was troubled by the exchange, though she
doubted his uneasiness had anything to do with where his hands and lips had
wandered. Mike was demanding to know Will's intentions.

"I guess
we'd better weigh anchor and go find some whales," Will grabbed two pieces
of buttered toast from the platter, slipped from behind the table and left.

Mike looked at
Nellie, and said, "I don't want him for a step-father."

"You don't
need to worry about that," Nellie said. "Like Will told you, we're
just good friends. But when men and women are good friends, sometimes they like
to express their feelings in physical ways."

"You were
kissing him like you kissed Daddy," Mike said.

"You were
not supposed to be on deck at night. How long were you there?" Nellie
asked, less concerned about Mike being on deck, than how much he night have
seen.

"I just
came up to see where you were, and when I saw you kissing, I left. It was
gross."

Relieved,
Nellie said, "Well, Will and I have an understanding now and we won't be
kissing anymore, and you're not to wander around the boat at night. Is that
clear?"

"Yeah,
whatever." Mike turned and climbed the ladder.

Nellie stared
after him. It was impossible to explain to Mike what she and Will had been
doing, because she didn't understand it herself. Assuming it had been too dark
for Mike to see exactly where Will's lips had strayed, she still couldn't put
in plain words why a man and a woman, who were supposed to be friends, would
kiss each other like the world was about to come to an end... a bad message to
send to an impressionable boy who was on the verge of puberty. But the damage
was done, and it was too late to undo it.

Feeling a stab
of remorse, she took up the task of cleaning the galley.

After she'd
scrubbed the skillet and washed and dried the dishes, then stashed the bowls
and utensils in cabinets and drawers, she went to her cabin to make up her bed.
As she smoothed the sheets, she reflected on how tidy the big bed looked,
almost un-slept-in. The sight made her lonely. One of her most difficult
adjustments after Richard's death was getting used to sleeping alone. She'd
reach out during the night for a warm body to curl against and find only cold
sheets. But when she was with Richard, the bed had always been more than slept
in. It had been romped in, and loved in, and then slept in, and by morning it
was nicely mussed.

She pulled the
spread up over the blanket. How much she wanted to feel Will's body warm
against hers, his fingers curling in her hair, his palm moving over her body.
She sighed. How uncomplicated life would be if she didn’t feel a need to peg
love and sex with marriage. They could just let things happen. Only the
logistics of pursuing a relationship aboard a yacht, with an inquisitive
ten-year-old boy aboard, would remain. But the truth was, she couldn’t separate
the three, and
Will
couldn’t seem to connect them, an
impasse she was slowly coming to accept.

***

By the time
Nellie finished the tedious process of washing her hair with the low-pressure,
flexible shower hose in the head, she could feel the choppiness of the water
and hear waves splashing against the hull and knew they were underway. The plan
was to spend the night in Campbell River, stopping early enough so they could
walk around town and have dinner ashore. The following day they'd drop anchor
near Beaver Bay, a section of the strait where the orca came close to shore to
rub on the pebbly beaches. There, Will planned to set up the recording
equipment for his study. Nellie was anxious for Mike to see the whales. She
remembered how excited she'd been the first time Uncle Vern pointed out the
dorsal fins of a pod of orca, and moments later, four huge mammals swam
alongside the
Isadora
, arcing
gracefully, in unison, above the surface of the water. As they were swimming
off, one breached high, as if saying good-bye, his white belly catching the low
afternoon sun. She remembered it as one of the most beautiful sights she'd ever
seen, and she hoped Mike would experience the same sense of wonder.

After settling
Katy in her bed in the galley, and putting a handful of chow in Zeke's bowl in
his cabinet, Nellie ventured up to the wheelhouse where, to her surprise, she
found Mike at the wheel. Will stood behind him, peering over his head. "We
might see some orca today," Will said to Mike. "There's a pod that moves
up and down Johnstone Strait. We'll try to record their voices tonight when
there are fewer distractions from boats."

"How do
you make 'em talk?" Mike
asked,
his tone flat.

Nellie noted
Mike's feigned lack of interest and knew he was curious, but too stubborn to
admit it. Will caught her eye and winked, and she knew he was onto Mike as
well. "They don't talk, they communicate," Will said. "They're
curious creatures, so we start by sending music to them through the hydrophone.
If they're around, they'll hear the music and come up to the boat. They also
respond to the sounds of a guitar, so we use the synthesizer to reproduce
guitar sounds." He looked toward the sea and said, in a contemplative
tone, "Hearing an orca repeat what you play sound for sound is an experience
you'll never forget."

"They
really do that, repeat sounds?" Mike
said,
his
voice eager.

"They sure
do," Will replied. "They're very complex creatures. Not only do they
repeat what we play, but they compose their own tunes and tack them onto our
phrases. I'm hoping that if we can gather and compile the sounds they make, we
might be able to create a dialogue with them through musical communication. You
might be able to help me with this."

Nellie saw, for
the first time, a glimmer of true interest in Mike’s eyes, as if he wanted to
learn more from Will but was too mulish to ask. She’d also heard the enthusiasm
in Will's voice as he talked about his orca study. Before now, he'd said little
about it. They’d been too involved with refurbishing the
Isadora
, keeping tabs on Mike, worrying about being followed by a
man with a gun, and being involved in their own dubious relationship, that what
Will
loved most had been pushed into the background.
It wasn't until now that she could feel his eagerness to be back with the animals
he loved. "You really enjoy this, don't you?" she said.

"Yeah, I
enjoy it... more than you can imagine," Will replied. "Hearing the
whales' chants and yodels is humbling. It reminds us we're not the only
intelligent beings on this planet."

After a while
Mike grew restless, and
Will
took over the wheel.
"We'll be docking at Campbell River tonight so you can try out your sea
legs on land again," he said to Mike.

Saying nothing,
Mike climbed down the ladder to the salon.

"No going
on deck while we're underway," Nellie called down to him. A few minutes
later, she peeked down into the salon to find Mike paging through
The Tale of Mrs. Tittlemouse
. She
started to mention it to Will, but she had other, more pressing matters on her
mind. "We need to talk about what happened at breakfast this
morning," she said.

"You mean
about Mike seeing us on deck?" Will asked.

"He didn't
just see us on deck," Nellie replied. "He thought we were having
sex."

"Then
we'll have to be more careful next time," Will said, while turning the
wheel.

"There
won't be a next time," Nellie said. "What we were doing last night
and again this morning, just before Mike came in, was foolish."

"I
agree," Will replied. "We definitely need to be more discreet, but we
also need to discuss where our explorations should take us."

Nellie looked
at Will, puzzled. "You mean where we're going for your orca study?"

"No, I
mean personal explorations... What, when and where to touch and not to touch.
Male to female. Boy to girl. Lips to lips or wherever they might be allowed to
roam. I have definite ideas, but you might find them a little too
investigative. I think we got a good start last night though. Places on you I
suspect had been dormant for a long time definitely came to life, and this
morning you let out a little sigh of pleasure when I was exploring what was
under your robe."

Nellie felt
flushed and flustered and becoming aroused with the conversation. "I never
intended for things to happen the way they did last night, or this
morning," she said.

His eyes still
focused on the view beyond the windshield, Will commented, "That’s exactly
why I want to set boundaries, so you’ll be comfortable with what we do—how
often to hug, how passionate our kisses, where to hide while we map out each
other’s bodies, that sort of thing."

"And where
to
do it
, I presume, though you
didn’t mention that exactly."

"Setting
boundaries lets us know where to stop so we
don’t
do it," Will said. "You don't have any objection to hugging, kissing,
body mapping, and wherever that takes us, do you?"

Nellie looked
at Will, miffed. "Wherever that takes us? There's pretty much only one
place left to go, male to female, as you said. But you don't seem to understand
how seriously I take making love." She hoped she'd impressed on him the importance
of what they were discussing.

"I'm being
as honest as I can with you," Will said, in a tone that had lost all its
humor, "and I want you to be honest with me. I won't push you, but I think
you want to make love as much as I do, am I right?"

Nellie sighed.
"Yes—"

"Then our
only problem is when and where. With a pair of young eyes focused on us, it's
going to be—"

"You
didn’t let me finish," Nellie cut in. "Yes, I want to make love, but
I won’t. It’s as simple as that. Based on my reaction to your kisses, and the
enjoyment I get from the things you do, any boundaries we set wouldn't work.
The institute of marriage was set up to keep people like us from hopping in and
out of each other’s beds and each other’s lives. It’s really a very good
system, and I don’t intend to challenge the integrity of it now."

Will sighed. "I
disagree with you on that, but since I can’t seem to change your mind, I
suppose I’ll be taking a whole lot of cold showers in the next few weeks."

Nellie braced
her hand on his shoulder and kissed him lightly, and said, "Thank you for
understanding." His mouth flattened and he grunted his displeasure.

Nellie turned
and left. But after having admitted to Will that she wanted to make love, all
she wanted now was to step into that cold shower with him and do precisely
that.

***

It was almost
dusk
by the time the
Isadora
pulled into Campbell River. After locking Zeke in the master stateroom to make
sure he wouldn't slip out while they were on shore, Nellie clipped on Katy's
leash and handed her over to Mike. Mike started out the door, but Nellie called
him back. "We have to wait for Will."

"You
always have to be where he is," Mike said, disgusted. "We never get
to do anything with just us like it used to be."

Mike's behavior
disturbed Nellie. After his session at the helm while Will talked about his
whale study, Nellie thought Mike's feelings toward Will were beginning to
soften. But his resentment was still evident, and he made no attempt to hide
it.

"Honey,
life is always changing," she said "We're changing. Nothing stays the
same, and we have to learn to adjust to the changes." She realized this
was pretty philosophical for Mike, but she felt some satisfaction in her own
words.

Mike fixed
determined eyes on her. "I don't have to adjust to anything," he
challenged.

"What do
you mean by that?" Nellie asked, alarmed.

"I'll run
away and move in with Ernie in Medford. He said I could."

Nellie felt a
rush of panic. Mike said earlier he'd run away if Will didn't stay away from
her, and just the night before he saw them kissing on the deck... an maybe
more, from his comment about them making babies, so apparently those thoughts
were still there. But, he couldn't run away while they were at sea, and while
they were in Campbell River she'd watch him closely. "Does this have to do
with Will?" she asked. "Or are you homesick for Medford?"

"I'm not
homesick," Mike said, agitated. "Only sissies get homesick."

Nellie studied
Mike's sober face and the determined set of his mouth. "Then
it's
Will."

"I don't like
him," Mike said. "He's not like Daddy."

Nellie drew in
an exasperated breath. "He's not Daddy," she said. "So why
should he be like him?"

"I don't
know. Can we go now?"

"Yes, but
I expect you to stay with me and not wander off." She wasn't getting through.
Every time she tried to reason with Mike, it turned out the same. She realized
Will was only part of the problem. Any man who tried to step into Richard's
place would meet Mike's opposition. She also knew she couldn't live with the
fear of Mike running away...

"Everything's
secure out here," Will said, as he poked his head inside the door.
"Let's go."

Once on deck,
Will took Nellie by the arm to help her hop ashore. Catching the disturbed look
on Mike’s face, she pulled her arm free and said, in a hushed voice, "I'll
explain later."

In downtown
Campbell River, they separated for a while. Nellie took Mike to check out the
many souvenir shops, where they bought a kite, a book on tide pools, a Campbell
River tee shirt for Mike, and buckets and shovels for collecting rocks and
shells on the beach at Beaver Bay, and Will went off on his own. They met up
again at a pizza pub, where Katy curled up on the sidewalk, her leash tied to a
bench, and Nellie, Mike and Will went in to eat. It was after eight by the time
they strolled back toward the
Isadora
,
Nellie walking beside Will, Mike ambling on ahead with Katy. "What was the
problem earlier," Will asked, "and why do I get the impression that
I'd better not touch you again, ever?"

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