Chapter 27: The Pink Planet’s Gifts

“I think I need to go see my father, in Lubbock,” Rachel said as she stepped out of the shower and began drying her hair with a towel. “I also need to check on getting a new visa.”

We had dropped off the First Lady yesterday morning and then Rachel and I had spent the last twenty four hours in my bed in the Captain’s Locker, onboard my Bering 120 as we sailed the Gulf of Mexico. I had no idea where Captain Alfred and Captain Tony were headed, as I had left it up to them when Rachel and I disappeared into my cabin yesterday.

“Let me check with the officers,” I replied.

When I addressed them individually, I always referred to the two men with their titles, Captain Alfred or Captain Tony, because I respected them too much to just call them Al or Tony. However, Rachel had taken to calling them ‘the Officers’ collectively, and lately, so had I.

The Captain’s Locker (or stateroom) was located less than five paces from the pilot house on the Bering 120, and in moments, I was standing behind Captain Tony.

“You look like you feel better,” Captain Tony said as he glanced at me.

I feel better,” I told him. “I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

“It was a busy week,” he replied.

“Where are we?” I asked. “And where are we headed?”

“We’re right about here,” he said, pointing to our location on the plotter. “Heading two-three-two (Southwest). At our current speed of eleven knots, we’ll be in Cancun this time tomorrow.”

“Rachel wants to go see her family in Lubbock,” I told him.

“Well...” he said as he considered. “You could probably catch a flight out of Cancun. Or ... we could head for Galveston and you could fly out from there. The advantage to Galveston is we could have the bomb blast repair work done there and a few other minor repairs as well. Also, Monique and I have friends in San Antonio that I know she’d like to visit for a few days.”

“How far to Galveston?” I asked. Truth-be-told, I’d rather have any work done on the Cécile be done in the states than other countries on this side of the pond.

Tony studied the charts and did some quick calculations. “We can be in Galveston by Sunday.”

“Okay. Why don’t we head that way and I’ll go talk to the others,” I said as I left the pilothouse. Stopping to collect Rachel, we made our way downstairs.

I found Mom and Archara sitting in the salon talking and sat down with them while Rachel headed for the galley to find us something to eat.

“The White House Social Secretary, Jana Duenas, called on the special iPhone. She said she got the number from the First Lady. After we talked for a while, she decided that our meeting with the President might be better held at Camp David. Fewer reporters. Are you available the weekend of July 17^th and 18^th?” Archara asked.

“Whatever you all decide is fine with me,” I replied. “How would you all feel about heading for Galveston for now? Rachel wants to visit her family in Lubbock for a few days and Captain Tony felt like we could get some repairs done on the Cécile.”

“That means that the girls and I could fly home,” Mom stated excitedly.

The others all began to chime in on the various things they could do and the places they could go. I just excused myself and stepped out to the cockpit to call Cynthiana. I needed to let her know what we were up to, and to see if she could ship the replacement signage to Galveston.

Supper that night was a raucous affair with everyone flitting around, talking at the same time. It seemed to me that after the stressful times we had been through in the last two months, everyone was relieved and just blowing off steam.

Rachel had called her father and discovered that her mother and sisters were there. It seems that her father had become sick and wasn’t recovering as fast as Rachel’s mom thought he should, so she grabbed the kids and came home. They were happy that Rachel was coming and said that they were looking forward to meeting her boyfriend.

Somehow, I kinda doubted that.

Captain Tony and Monique were flying to San Antonio to meet up with some friends. Captain Alfred and Archara were taking their daughters along with Captain Tony’s daughters to Moody Gardens for a couple of days and then to the beach. Captain Alfred reasoned that they would remain close by the marina in case something came up that required an immediate decision.

The marina they had selected was the Seabrook Marina in Galveston. They were one of the largest repair facilities in the area and could handle yachts up to 150’, so the Cécile would fit within those parameters. Cynthiana was airfreighting me the replacement signs and they should arrive by the time we got there.

Carina had decided to return to her home in Cannes, but would be back for our meeting at Camp David in four weeks. She was still undecided on what to do about Roland. Archara had told me he had moved out, but felt like he would come to his senses sooner or later. I decided to send one of the twins to escort her. I’d let them decide. The other would be staying with Captain Alfred, Archara, and the teens.

Finally I decided I’d had enough of the clamor.

“I’m going to bed!” I thought to Rachel.

“I’ll be right behind you,” she thought back wearily. I decided that this mental communicating might prove to be a good thing as I climbed two flights of steps to the bridge deck. Did they make elevators for yachts?

Friday morning proved to be overcast with two to three foot swells coming from a front that was moving southeast off the coast of Texas. The wind about was nine knots but it was a warm breeze, so I didn’t bother to get dressed. The Cécile barely rocked in the waves and unless you looked outside, you could hardly tell we were moving, much less moving through moderate seas. If we had been on the Serendipity or the Windsong, we would have felt the rough seas for sure.

Mom had made me muffins and bacon for breakfast, with some of the orange marmalade they had picked up in Florida. I was alone at the table so I quickly devoured my breakfast. Mom brought out a carafe of fresh coffee and two cups, then settled across the table from me.

It was a testament to my mom that she had finally become comfortable talking with me without any clothes on. I won’t say she was exactly comfortable with the nude lifestyle, but she seemed to tolerate it fairly well now.

“I want to talk to you,” she said as she poured our coffees.

I involuntarily shuddered at her pronouncement. Maybe it was a ‘guy’ thing, or a ‘son’ thing, but those words from a female, especially our mom, usually strikes terror into our hearts.

“I’m proud of you,” she began. “You saved the First Lady’s life, and you saved her Secret Service agent’s life. You also saved little Sadie’s life and saved Uncle Buck and Aunt Betty’s fish camp. You saved the entire yacht from that exploding fishing trawler and you saved Alfred’s life back in Martinique. You also saved that pregnant woman and her daughter back in Texas.