Chapter 3

September 19-20 - The weekend

I woke up at the crack of dawn. No alarm clock. No loud noises. No Bonkers in my face. No hangover. I just woke up, feeling pretty good. Showered and shaved, I headed down 25th toward the beach. I picked up my paddle board and paddle at Franco's house. Franco and his wife, Margie, have an autistic child. High functioning Asperger's. He had been in special classes his whole life but they tried to mainstream him in 7th grade – my class. I worked at it and got the other kids involved and we had a lot of success. His kid is now an honors student at Georgia Tech. Margie and Marco think I had more to do with it than I did but it's all good. Anyway, we have a deal. I keep my paddle board and Hobie Cat at his house, he uses them when he wants and I get to use his boat to go fishing every now and then. I'm taller so Franco has his own paddle and he rarely goes out early. This was early.

After walking across the cool morning sand I pushed my board out to knee deep water and then hopped up to paddle out. The surf was terrible as usual but there were still some hopefuls out. The regulars. They would have been waiting for the big wave if the sea was glass. I greeted those I knew on the way out. "Morning, Josh." "Morning Danny. Couple of miles?" "Yup. You are ever the optimist." "Yup". And like that.

I made it past the set-up line and turned north toward Wild Dunes and Deewees. The water was September cool and so was the air temp but I knew I'd warm up quickly with the work. The sun was slowly easing its way from behind a string of clouds near the horizon. Red sky in the morning, sailors take warning – not always true. I could see dolphins ahead, heading south at a leisurely pace. I turned out a bit to get closer but they ducked under and stayed there until they were past. Fine. Got nothing for you anyway, I thought. I passed the Citadel Beach House. No one there yet. Too early. Probably packed later in the day. Days like this, late in the summer, were rare and I knew the beach would be busy by noon.

With a long, narrow board, the right paddle, a smooth surface and good technique you can really move. I was really moving. The long narrow board gives you good speed but it's too unstable for the novice and most paddle boarders never graduate from a beginner board. It takes some effort and practice to develop a rhythm. I had paid the price of countless practice miles. I had the rhythm down and was powering up the coast, nearing the decision to continue on up and around Deewees Island or head back. I made it to the channel and elected to go to the north end of Deewees and then head back. By the time I turned around there was a slight breeze pushing me south.

You have plenty of time to think when it's just you and the ocean. I started to think it would be nice if Elsa was one of those people who took early morning walks on the beach. There still weren't many people out and they were bundled up and walking, stopping to look at sand dollars and shells. Others were power-walking or taking their dogs for their morning run. No Elsa. It should have been warmer, the beach should be deserted and Elsa should come walking out onto the beach in a tiny black bikini, see me and start swimming out. I would help her up and together we'd paddle off. That's what should have happened. Instead, I was so distracted I fell off my board and practically hit my chin. Get a grip. I climbed back up and began paddling again. Slower. I knew Elsa lived at this end of the island and didn't want to leave it. Even with the wind behind me it took almost twice as long to get back. Preoccupation destroys the rhythm.

I paddled in, catching a little wave as I did so. Big boards don't care how small the wave is. I passed more hopeful surfers on the way in, the crowd beginning to build. I crossed Palm and headed back up 25th, nearly three hours after I had started. My shoulders felt the burn, a good thing. Franco was mowing his small yard when I got back to his house.

"And?" he asked?

"Flat as a pancake. Easy paddling."

"I might go out this evening. You go around Deewees?"

"To the north end of it. Not around. Ran out of motivation."

"You've got more than me. I do good to make it to the Dunes and back."

"You do alright. The Bonnie available next Saturday?" Bonnie was Franco's 25 foot Key West center console. Bonnie as in "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean." Italian guy with an Irish boat. It seems wrong.

"Yup. Going to take some friends out to Bull Island on Sunday but Saturday is good. They've never been. Long time for me too."

"Make sure you take the gator repellant." Funny guy. Gator repellant.

"Somebody said they saw that 18 footer again last weekend. I don't believe it but I'm going looking."

"Moccasin Pond?"

"That's what they say."

"Every year someone sees a huge gator at Moccasin Pond but never any pictures. I'm pretty sure Sasquatch got him. Whatever's out there I hope you find him before he finds you. I'll probably go out Saturday if the weather holds."

"Jetty?"

"Yup. Probably over by Morris Island. I had great luck there last time and it's the season so I'll go again. Your freezer full?"

"Danny, it's always full but I have friends. Whatever you don't want, we'll use. In fact, if you catch anything worth eating, I'll feed my friends with it on Sunday if you don't need it. We'll be full up on the boat ride out or I'd invite you to join us. You can sure join us for dinner, either way."

"I don't like gators anyway. Have fun. I'll let you know about dinner. Say hey to Margie for me," and I continued up the street.

After a quick rinse and some breakfast, I set out on my bicycle for Hudson's to pick up my car. I took the IOP connector up to Rifle Range and across, a comfortable 20 minute ride. I arrived between noon and 2PM, as promised. Hudson's was closed on Saturdays but my mechanic, Jamie, told me he'd be working on his own car for a couple of hours and I could pick it up then. Sure enough, Jamie had his Alfa Romeo in pieces I know nothing of, hands greasy but a big smile on his face as he tossed some unknown part at a trash can 20 feet away, yelling at it as it sailed. Pleasantries exchanged, a check written and the promise of my bicycle getting dropped off on Monday afternoon, I set out for parts unknown.

The throaty rumble sounded much better as I accelerated out of the parking lot. I thought about heading up to Georgetown and beyond, just for the fun of it but decided to head back home where I had nothing to do, instead. Rather than take a straight shot home, I circled north around the golf course and past the Lundquist home. Just because. No car in the drive. No bike in the lawn. No sign of life. Humph. I headed back to the house with no plan to do anything. Or perhaps it was a plan to do nothing. Either way I had nothing on the agenda. The Braves were on TV and Santana was pitching. I grabbed a beer and flopped into my easy chair. I fell asleep in front the game before the Braves came up to bat. I woke up late in the afternoon. My beer was warm and flat and golf was on. Two wasted beers in less than 24 hours. Alcohol abuse. The morning paddle was the highlight of the day.

The rest of the weekend was pretty blasé. I read, slept and cooked for the following week, did a little shopping. I lifted and then went through a few katas just for grins. I thought about going to the range but realized that would just be killing time and wasting ammunition. I wanted to lend my shoulder to Ms. Lundquist again. Ridiculous. Pathetic. Smitten was actually more like it. I really liked her and wondered if there were more to it than her needing an ear to talk to and a shoulder to cry on. Was I just the safe, convenient shoulder? A brother she didn't have? Probably all there was to it.

Monday - Tuesday, September 21 – 22

Monday came and with it some even better weather. Warm with a high near 80. I caught a ride into work so I could take my bike home that evening. Normal day. But when third period came around I noticed Maja in a new light, as Elsa's daughter. She had darker hair and eyes than her mom but she would become pretty as she grew. She quite obviously saw me in a new light too. I had lunch duty and I sat outside at a picnic table to watch the kids play, make sure no one jumped off the roof or got into a fight, that sort of thing. With two minutes left before the bell, Maja came over and sat next to me but didn't look at me.

"You like my mom?" Very quiet and without looking at me.

"I like your mom." Straightforward.

"OK." And she was gone. That's it. Gotta love kids that age. I thought about it for a minute. A nine word conversation isn't much to go on but then, maybe it was enough. She hadn't asked about the conference. She hadn't asked about what I told her mom. None of that. She had asked if I liked her mom. I couldn't remember any kid ever asking that question. That meant the two of them had talked and that I was a topic of conversation. Right? That had to be it.

That night I considered calling Maja's mom. I weighed it eight different ways and for some unexplained reason, I decided not to. To this day I can't figure why I didn't. Wimp. That was the only explanation.

Tuesday, a normal day until lunch – the last two minutes of lunch. Once again Maja came over and sat next to me.

"You like her a lot?" Judging the degree now. A lot of people liked her mom. Was I different?

"I like your mom a lot."

"OK," Satisfied that I liked her at least a little more than average.

That night I decided I'd better call Maja's mom, who I liked a lot. I gave her a call after dinner. Wimp no more.

"Hello." She sounded preoccupied.

"Hi." Clever conversationalist.

"Danny. How are you?" Pleasant recognition, with a sense that her attention was now on the call. That's nice.

"I'm good. You know that, though."

"Yes. I get running reports."

"I don't. How are you doing?"

"No. I suppose not. Maja is pretty quiet. Except with me. Thank you so much for Friday night. My week was so long and that just, I don't know, happened."

"I'm glad it did. I'd kind of like it to just happen again."

"Maybe with less drama?"

"Maybe. That was enough drama for three people but it was your drama. I've discovered I'm not opposed to drama. Not opposed to your drama at any rate."

"Well I'm just about done with it. I am glad that you rolled with it though. I just dumped on you."

"No, really. I felt honored, I guess. Honored that you felt like you could confide in me."

"I didn't give you a lot of choice. Hi, I'm Elsa, here are all my problems."

"I didn't see it that way. I mean I guess I did but still. You're in a tough place."

"Not for long."

"No. How'd you like to escape it all?"

"Ooh. Yes, please. What do you have in mind?"

"How'd you like to go fishing with me Saturday?"

"Fishing? Like worms on hooks fishing?" A definite sound of "Ew" in that.

"Not exactly. More like shrimp and mullet on hooks fishing."

"I'm not sure if that's better or worse. What's a mullet?"

"Small fish you use for bait. I have the use of a friend's boat this Saturday and planned to go fishing, out in Charleston harbor. I thought you could use a day on the water. You know, beautiful scenery, fresh air, gentle waves."

"That sounds much better than worms on hooks."

"It is much better. Plus, I'll be there."

"Well, that clinches it. OK. What do I need to do? What time? You know, I haven't been fishing since I was about six or so and I don't know a thing about it." I was about to answer when she offered, "Perhaps I should cook you dinner and you can tell me what to expect."

"Mom! Really?" The eavesdropper in the background.

"Dinner sounds good."

"You heard that didn't you?" asking about Maja, then away from the phone, "Shush!"

"Heard what?"

"Nothing. You did. OK, before she sticks her nose in again, 7 good?"

"Perfect. Then I'll see you tomorrow night at 7 and I'll bring fish stories. I have lots."

"I'll bet." Then in a whisper, "You should see Maja. She is squirming like one of those worms."

"I'm not quite sure what to do with that. Tomorrow night."

"Night."

And as easy as that. Hot diggity. I really thought that. Hot diggity.

Wednesday, September 23 – Dinner

School the next day was pretty normal. I wasn't scheduled for lunch duty but I took it anyway, just to see if I would get more than a two sentence conversation from Maja. The weather was amazing but it wouldn't last. Autumn is totally unpredictable in the Lowcountry. It can be 85 one day and 45 the next. Sun then rain. We've seen ice storms and Indian summers. I think the meteorologists here work harder than anywhere. But today, they could enjoy it as much as the rest of us. Wednesday through Sunday looked like it would be warm and sunny and that would be fine with me. Near the end of lunch I got my visitor in what was becoming routine. Maja sat next to me with nearly five minutes left, a new record.

"You're coming to dinner tonight." A statement rather than a question.

"I am."

"OK." But she didn't leave.

"What's she cooking?"

"Rib eye. Probably. Steak for sure. Probably rib eye."

"I like a good steak. How about you?" Definitely working on this introvert.

"I guess. Mom thinks you like steak."

"I think most guys like steak so it's a safe bet."

"I have to go."

"OK." And she was gone. Our longest conversation. She was definitely warming up to me. I wondered what her conversations with her mom were like.

That evening I realized it had been a long since I'd been on a date where I cared about the results. Lots of dates but with less interesting, and certainly less beautiful women. I'm pretty certain none of the other women in my life had been a professional model, raised a child on their own or, or, or killed a husband. I wore some new slacks and a fresh polo shirt, slipped on my newer Topsiders and drove the three miles down to her house on Twin Oaks, practically across the street from the tennis courts. As I pulled into the driveway, I could see Maja sneaking a peek out the window.

Their home was the southern end of a town-home, a modern Charleston two-story. The first floor was elevated as many are in hurricane territory. It provided a huge carport and storage area underneath. There were six cars including hers, several bicycles, beach carts were arranged neatly and I could see an outdoor shower and clothes line near the back. The front was beautifully landscaped with a small lawn surrounded by palmetto trees and saguaro palms. A single curved stairway wrapped around a huge palmetto tree to a large porch with a separate door to each unit. The porch ceiling was painted the traditional "haint" blue, to ward off the undead. I thought I would paint mine that color too. Some traditions are fun and this one was distinctive and colorful as well. I could hear the distinctive thud of tennis balls being batted back and forth in the distance. I walked up and was about to knock when Elsa called for me to come in.

"Come in. Maja saw you coming." She was putting together a salad and didn't look up. I admired her profile for a brief moment while she worked. She had her hair in pigtails and wore a white V-neck with broad black stripes. On Friday, her business attire and then sweater covered her too much to make a genuine assessment. But now I could tell she was very slim. She said she was flat. Her breasts seemed small but she definitely wasn't flat. She wore fairly tight, lightly faded Capri length jeans that showed off a very nice ass. I already knew that she had toned calves, the beginning of nice legs that I'd like to see more of. She was barefoot and as I entered, her toes started wiggling and stretching, something she had done Friday after her rain dance. I estimated her to be 5'7", maybe 115 and probably a 4 or 6 dress size. I decided that I would need further investigation on that.

"Hi." She looked up and smiled as I approached. "I bear gifts." I had her raincoat, neatly folded, a large never-been-wet golf umbrella to replace the one she had ruined, and a nice bottle of Cotes du Rhone that I thought would go well with the steak. She gave the raincoat a look of contempt, smiled at the umbrella and took the bottle for inspection.

"This will work just fine. Thank you." Having assessed my wine selecting abilities favorably she leaned forward and gave me a peck on the lips.

"You smell like heaven." And she did, too.

"Mmm. Hungry?"

"Very much so." I tried to say it like James Bond would. I was trying to be dangerous.

"You smell the steak," she offered.

"Not on the grill yet," I observed.

"No. And it probably wouldn't be good if you couldn't tell the difference."

"Bvlgari," I said, pronouncing it correctly, the 'v' sounding like a soft 'u'.

"You can tell the difference."

"I can and the Bvlgari suits you very well."

A tiny smile let me know I had scored big points with that. "Potatoes will be a few minutes and I need to finish this up. Have a seat and relax." I gave their living room a once over. It was very nicely furnished in modern Scandinavian. A tan leather couch was surrounded by two recliners. I've always liked the full, thick kind of chairs you can sink into but these looked stark and uncomfortable. Probably teak wood and what looked like thin, uncomfortable cushions. I've always wanted to try on. I gingerly sat on one, testing it.

"They recline. I've fallen asleep there many times," she said watching me as she worked. I slid back in the seat and pushed back. Very deceptive. Far more comfortable than I would have imagined. I could only sit in it a minute or two and then it would have me, suck me into its trap. I stood before I succumbed to its magic. There was a modest flat screen across from the couch and an upright piano near the stairs. Not a grand but much better than my little electronic keyboard. How much time did we say? I sat at the piano.

"Who plays?" I asked.

"Maja plays a little bit. She took lessons for a while but stopped when we moved and she hasn't really played since we moved in. It's probably out of tune. Do you play?"

"Some. Do you mind?"

"Not at all. As soon as you start, though, Maja will stick her head out."

"I think I can manage." I ran the scales to test. The humidity in the Lowcountry requires that you tune a piano frequently but this little Baldwin was still fine. After a short warmup I decided to enjoy the feel of a real keyboard. I eased into String of Pearls. It sounded pretty good. Elsa was right and it didn't take long before I saw Maja peeking out. She watched for a bit and then slowly started coming down the stairs. I only managed a couple of minutes before my memory went bad and I improvised a finish.

"What else do you know?" Maja asked. I was disappointed. No, 'Hey, that was pretty good.'

"Well, if Hoagy Carmichael recorded it, I can probably play it." Gershwin, Hoagy Carmichael and show tunes. My mom insisted.

"Who's Hokey Carmichael?"

"Hoagy. Hoagy Carmichael. He was before my time too. How about this? Tell me if this sounds familiar." And I started to play the theme song from Disney's Beauty and the Beast.

"I don't know what that is. Never heard it before."

"Yes you have. Keep listening." The song starts slowly and it takes a while to come around to familiar territory. About a minute in she started to smile.

"I know that song." She said, smiling but still not sure what it was.

"Thought so. What is it?"

"Keep playing. I know this." Now she was hooked. Deep in thought, brows furrowed in that it's on the tip of my tongue look.

"Give up?" I teased.

"No. I do know it. I know this." She looked over to her mom for help. She was behind me so I couldn't tell if she got any help or not but she suddenly blurted out, "Beauty and the Beast. It's Beauty and the Beast." I smiled and nodded and played it through to the end.

"Can you play Little Mermaid?"

"No. Sorry. How about this?" And I started to play Bare Necessities from Jungle Book and she smiled immediately.

"Everybody knows what that is."

I played it till the end and asked, "How about you? What songs do you know?" I asked as I slid out of the seat and motioned for her to slide in. But she was having nothing to do with that. Straight for the stairs and up. I turned to Elsa for some help and she shrugged.

"Want to help me grill?" I agreed and we headed out on the back deck. I could hear Maja noisily being quiet. She was like a cat that didn't want to be left out but didn't want to be noticed.

Her deck opened up to an expansive view of the marsh. The sunsets would be spectacular. I liked my little cottage but this was much nicer. I began to think about a career in financial consulting. From next to nothing to this in 12 years. Not bad. I, on the other hand, had fallen into my apparently much smaller fortune.

"Not bad. Maja really enjoyed that. I did too. How long have you been playing?"

"Since I was little. My mom started me."

"Good for her."

"I hated her for it. It destroyed my baseball career."

"You had a baseball career?"

"No. But when you're little you can dream. I was pretty upset with her for a long time. Making me miss playing baseball with friends so I could practice. When you're a kid, your priorities are different. I hated it. Right until my mom died. Then I got serious. I worked at it to prove she was right, I think."

"Well the practice paid off. That sounded wonderful."

"Thanks. I can't remember the last time I've played with anyone to listen but my cat. My cat who loves Hoagy Carmichael and hates Gershwin."

"That's funny. Well, everything else is ready and we're cooking these steaks sous vide so it will only take a minute on either side and we'll be done. The grill's getting hot but we don't need to put these on right away if you just want to enjoy the view."

"I do want to enjoy the view. It's spectacular." She rested her arms on the deck rail and was looking over the marsh. I was getting a much better look at her derriere. She didn't notice.

"It's half the reason we bought this home. It's nice that the tennis courts are so close. Sunsets on the marsh or closer to the beach? Easy choice I thought. You aren't even looking," she complained.

"But I am looking." She looked up and caught me but I really didn't care.

"Stop it. What's Maja going to think if she sees her history teacher ogling her mom's backside?" She looked back at the marsh and nodded for me to do the same. I didn't.

"She's going to think her history teacher is even smarter than she imagined." I joined her leaning on the rail my right shoulder gently touching hers. A flock of white ibis flew south on their way to their evening resting ground. A couple of cormorants or anhingas perched on poles in the distance; it was hard to tell which. We watched in silence. Ten minutes, maybe fifteen passed comfortably and then a formation of pelicans flew north toward Deewees for the night.

"They seem prehistoric, don't they?" she said breaking the silence.

"I've always thought that. That was maybe 20? I know I've seen 50 or 60 of them at a time."

"I know I've asked but honestly, how are you doing?"

"Work keeps me busy. It's easier if I don't think about it most of the time. But dinner Friday meant so much." She put her hand on my forearm, sort of reaffirming what we shared before. "I so needed that."

"That was very much my pleasure." We were quiet again while I put my thoughts into words. I liked her a lot and wanted to tell her that without screwing it up. I told her about the brief lunchtime conversations I'd had with Maja.

"She asked me if liked you."

"And you told her... ?"

"I told her I liked you. And then she asked me if I liked you a lot."

"And you told her... ?"

"And I told her I liked you a lot."

"That's nice. And that's it?"

"Almost. What did you tell her when she asked you?"

"What makes you think she asked me?"

"She didn't ask? Huh. Now I'm disappointed."

"She didn't have to ask."

"Ah. And... ?"

"Are you asking me to betray my daughter's confidence?"

"I don't think it works quite like that."

"Well, it should."

"You already knew about that conversation. The conversations I've had with Maja."

"Of course."

"This seems patently unfair." Silence. Silence. "And so how did the other side of the conversation go?"

"The jury is forming an opinion."

Perhaps she felt like she had put me off with her silence but I didn't mind. After all, she had accepted my invitation to go fishing and I was at her place for dinner. She liked me. I just wanted to hear her say it. We were shoulder to shoulder and she reached over and put her hand on my forearm, just resting it there. Sort of an affirming thing, I think. Her hand stayed on my forearm for a few moments and then she squeezed it, once and then again. She slid her hand up higher and then squeezed my bicep which I flexed a little bit and she squeezed again. I enjoyed being squeezed but I wasn't quite sure what she was doing. Then she turned a quarter turn toward me and her hand slid up to my shoulder, squeezing it too, sort of assessing.

"You are pretty solid, aren't you, mister?" She caught me quite completely off guard. I guess I am but don't think about it much. "You didn't get these arms teaching."

"SUP," I answered in one of my less brilliant conversational responses. She was sort of massaging my shoulder in true appreciation and it felt pretty good.

"Sup? What does that mean?"

"SUP. Stand up paddle boarding. I work out, and practice martial arts but it's probably mostly from standup paddle boarding. SUP."

"Ahhh. SUP. Well, it works, at least on your arms and shoulders, that's for sure." She had been friendly in her demeanor toward me, until then. Friendly in a non-sensual way. When she felt the tone of my arms and shoulders it was like something clicked in her. She moved past friendly and into a different zone. I liked it. She moved her left hand to my back and then turned half toward me and brought her right hand up to my chest, checking it out too. I watched. I was definitely not used to this type of appreciation. I flexed so she would get the full affect. Trips around Deewees were paying off.

Suddenly, she realized that she had her hands on me in a much more intimate manner than she probably planned. I think she was embarrassed and tried to turn back away, pretending this was a fleeting thing and she hadn't been examining the goods. I put my right hand on her lower back and held her where she was and I stepped back with my right so we were half facing. She resisted a little and then stopped, allowing me to hold her in place.

"I'm sorry. I'm not sure what I was thinking."

"I'm not sorry. Maybe you were thinking that I feel good. I like that. It's nice to be appreciated. I think you feel pretty good, too." I relaxed but held her in place. We were close enough to hear each other's breathing, heavier than normal and her face and neck were a bit flushed. She was embarrassed but pleasantly so, almost as though she wanted to be embarrassed.

I slid my hand farther up and around her back and spread my fingers so that I could wrap her into me, pull her forward. She resisted slightly so I just held her where she was, not forcing it but definitely letting her know I didn't want to let her get away. Then she stepped in a little with her right and suddenly we were slow dance close. She rested her right hand lightly on my hip. I had a quickly growing desire and I wondered if she could feel it through my slacks. Perhaps a slight recognition that "Yes, Danny wasn't just hard above the waist." Her hand on my hip pulled it very, very slightly. She subconsciously licked her lips and then, I think she decided to go with it and was leaning forward as though to kiss me when...

"Mom," Loudly from inside. "When's dinner? Maria wants me to come over."

Interrupted. We looked into each other's eyes from very close and we both knew we had been caught on the cusp of very new territory. More than just friendly territory. Why couldn't Maja have gone to Maria's for dinner, I thought. Could she just go now? We held each other's eyes, neither wanting to break.

She turned away from me briefly, "Ten minutes," she hollered back at Maja. She turned quickly back to reconnect our gaze. She seemed to realize that it was a good thing Maja wasn't in visual range. Perhaps she'd never seen her mom in a romantic embrace before. She relaxed her hands and started to pull away but I had my arm on her back and held her just an extra second.

"Wow," I half said and half mouthed.

"Yes. Wow," she said quietly with a somewhat confused look of lust, embarrassment and a healthy dose of where'd-that-come-from mixed in.

"Let me know when the jury reaches a verdict." I reluctantly let her pull away and she went into hostess mode.