Chapter 30: Misunderstood

“Why did you change the name of your catamaran to Good Grief? Is that a reference to the Charlie Brown comics strip?”

“It’s a reference to my own stupidity. Besides, the old long name had to be changed, and GOOD GRIEF looks balanced when divided on double sterns, painted half-N-half across two transoms.”

“Sometimes, you’re hard to understand, Joey.”

“Is that a veiled suggestion I should have kept the original name MISS UNDERSTOOD?”

“Seems more appropriate than Good Grief. Grieving is too sad a thing to joke about. It’s not good to remind people of their grief.”

“Have you ever grieved inconsolably, Karina?”

“I grieved for my husband when he was killed in Iraq. Still grieve for him at times, but let’s not talk about sad things. I’m happy to be with you! It’s such a lovely day for a sail.”

“Yes, and you’re lovely too.”

“You say, it reminds you of something stupid you did? What?”

“I was trying to help someone in a desperate situation. My well intentioned advice tragically and regrettably backfired. It was a ploy to gain sympathy, I foolishly recommended as a smart maneuver.”

“How did it backfire? Failed to generate the sympathy expected?”

“Actually, it generated an astounding amount of sympathy. My error was not considering everyone’s perspective. Offended, some seeing it as a vain attempt to buy forgiveness, interpreted the gesture of remorse as a confession of guilt, and exacted a much sterner price.”

“And that grieves you?”

“It grieves me my glib tongue failed me when most required. Of course I apologized to the victim of my catastrophic advice. Truly, I regretted the outcome, made lame excuses, and was extremely sorry for my part in it. Miserably I tried to console him and failed utterly.”

“It’s very difficult to find the right words in those situations.”

“It’s impossible. And that’s their charm.”

“Now, I’m having difficulty understanding you again. Charm?”

“The inability of words to console grief, elevate grief to an epiphany of inconsolable grief. That ennobles the grief-stricken, which is cathartic, and enables the grief to heal the hurt over time. That’s the mechanism. The charm, is we are born with it hardwired in.”

“Designed to grieve, you mean? Are you serious?”

“Designed to survive with many different instincts for survival built in. Preprogrammed with necessary tactics and mechanisms. You scorch your finger, in your mouth it goes by reflex, without a thought. Broken heart? We heal by grieving and that’s not a conscious choice either. Psychologists are concerned when someone refuses to grieve who should. It’s an unhealthy symptom, they say.”

“Is it a religious conviction? Grand design infers a grand designer?”

“I don’t belong to any religious group, but design infers designer.”

“I’m uncomfortable with religious zealots. I don’t want to convert.”

“Relax, I don’t belong to any religious group. I’m not religious.”

“Glad to hear it, but it sounded like you were about to invoke God”

“Well, now that YOU brought up the subject,... ?”

“No we’re not! Do I have to sit on your face to shut you up?”

“Oh yes, please. But don’t force me to write rubber checks.”

“Drop the anchor, and get your glib tongue to work on my project.”

“Are you serious? You really want me to drop you?”

“What are you yammering about now, silly?”

“You said, drop the anchor. You’re it, my anchor to sanity.”

“That’s nice. Do you actually need an anchor for sanity?”

“Karina honey, if you only knew how crazy this place is, you wouldn’t have to ask. You are the only sane female around here.”

“That’s nice to hear you think so, but are you sure I’m sane?”

“Pretty sure. Am I missing a loose screw detail somewhere?”

“Now you’re accusing me of being a loose screw, a sloppy fit?”

“Nope, and I’m taking back what I said. You’re nutty too.”

“Not nutty, crazy about you, Joey. Let’s anchor and check the fit.”

We anchored in a little cove notched in the river bank, out of the main force of the current. The dinette quickly converted to a bed.

An affectionate frolic was interrupted by bumping against the hull.

“Ahoy, Good Grief! Request permission to come aboard.”

“I don’t believe it! It’s her! She’s back.”

“Tell them shove off or go away, something, Joey. Don’t stop now!”

“Sorry, Karina, ordinarily I would, but I can’t. That’s long lost Gail!”

“Someone important to you, obviously. An old girlfriend?”

“Recently, I spent most of a year begging her to marry me, so, yeah, she’s kind of important to me. Would you mind if we postpone our tryst, and I invite her aboard? I promise to make it up to you.”

“Oh, I’m well aware Joey, I’m only one of your many women and not the most important either. I enjoy our Saturday afternoons together alone, but really, it’s okay. Sure, invite her aboard.”

Yanking on my trunks, I dashed for the cockpit. Peering over the side getting bumped, I saw Gail smiling up at me from a kayak.

“Catch my line?”

I took her line and tied her off. Extending my arm down to Gail, she used it to pull herself aboard, climbing me like a tree. On deck, we were immediately in each others arms in a fierce passionate kiss.

“Excuse me? Could I borrow your canoe? I’ll leave it with the marina. You’ll no doubt sail back with Joey. Call me when you decide you want me, Joey. Sorry, I have to go see a man now. Bye.”

Karina dropped neatly into and adroitly paddled off in Gail’s kayak. From the set of her stiff shoulders, she is also in quite a snit.

“Woops, sorry! No I’m not, I’m glad I spoiled her fun. Well, love?”

“It’s wonderful to see you, Gail, and to hold you in my arms again.”

“Wonderful to see and hold you too. Do I get the nickel tour now?”

“This way, and watch your noggin. Standing room only in the hulls.”

Gail spent longer in the head pissing than the tour required. Took less than a minute to see the extent of the spartan accommodations. When she emerged from the head, she was grinning in good humor.

“Suitable for a river cruiser. I suppose I owe you a piece of pussy?”

Is she serious? I’m speechless, can only nod. My cock believes her.

“Well, here I am, prepared to make amends for ruining your date.”

The kingsized mattress is unfurled on the bridge deck. Normally people sit here with there feet in a shallow well, now hidden beneath the mattress. The bridge between the hulls is a convertible dinette. Headroom under the coach roof is four feet unless you step down into the hulls where its six foot six. The galley, head and one bunk are in the port hull, two bunks and a chart table in the starboard.

Gail stripped and spread herself on the wide mattress. She’s lovely.

“Shall I eat you first?” She smiled and nodded. She’s very nervous. This is a momentous occasion for Gail. And me, because she’s only doing this to please me. She was repeatedly raped from the time she was a toddler until she ran away from home in her early teens. Male genitals disgust and horrify her. We both hope love can overcome her repugnance. She doesn’t need to explain. She has opted for us to be a couple. Her being here and her actions speak volumes.

“Are you ready darling?” She came twice while I ate her pussy.

“Remember how we were doing it before when I threw up on you? Let’s try that again? I was enjoying it, and almost ready to agree for you to try to enter me, when you ejaculated on my Tummy. Sorry, I couldn’t tolerate it, it happened often when I was little, and it still revolts me.

This time, when you feel close to cumming, that’s when you should enter me. Gently, please. That’s how I’ve planned it and forced my mind to accept receiving your seed. I want a baby with you. I hope I can enjoy making one with you. Don’t worry, my will is strong. If I react badly, we’ll wait a couple of days and try again. I want us to be happy, a normal couple, and have a family together. I want that very much! With your love and patience, Joey, I believe we can have it.”