Beth 5
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2011 by Svengali's Ghost

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - The next volume of Tommy and Beth's tale. It starts in the Caribbean and who knows where it will go from there.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Romantic   Slow  

"TOMMY! BETH!"

I looked up and saw Sue Webber waving her hand over her head. I wasn't surprised to see her, even though we hadn't made any arrangement for them to pick us up.

I looked at Beth and got a blank shrug. "I don't know, Tommy."

We had just cleared Customs at Nassau International and were waiting for our luggage when our Caribbean friend hailed us.

"Hi, what are you doing here?" I asked Sue after the mandatory—and quite enjoyable—hugs.

"Waiting for you two, of course."

"Yeah, but how did you know..." I looked at Beth and saw a mirror image of my perplexed look.

Sue's grin widened. "Oh, ve haff our vays," she said, doing Erich von Stroheim as badly as I did. Except with her sexy alto she sounded more like Natasha Fatale.

"Well, I shouldn't give away our methods, but Matt let us know you were coming and Beth, a quick e-mail to your folks took care of the details."

"So where's Bob?" I asked as we grabbed our bags.

"Oh, he's in town picking up some stuff we forgot to get last time we were here. C'mon, I've got the car outside." She led us out to a battered old Vauxhall. "Speaking of stuff, do you guys want to stop at the market? I think we've got Matt's place pretty well stocked for you, but if there's anything special it's easier to get it now than to have to make a separate trip."

"Oh, I do have a couple of things I should probably pick up," Beth said. "Can we just drop Tommy off? You know guys and shopping." Sue just grinned.

"Now wait a minute! I'm not that bad!" I protested, which got a chuckle out of Sue.

"Sure," she replied. "You can spend your time waiting by taking pictures of the boats just to prove you were down here." Sue said that with a straight face, but I could see just a bit of a humorous glint in her eyes.

After we loaded our luggage and climbed in Sue took off—driving on what seemed like the wrong side of the road. Since we'd been down here twice before you'd think I'd be getting used to driving on the left side, but that didn't stop me from flinching every time we met a car coming from the other direction. It didn't take too long to get to the marina. Bob was already there and seemed to enjoy the hug he got from Beth ... almost as much as I'd enjoyed Sue's greeting.

"Beth and I have some shopping to do. Can you keep Tommy occupied? I'm sure there're SOME of your stories he hasn't heard yet."

That earned Sue a hurt look from her husband. Feigned, I was sure.

"You know, Tommy, sometimes an author just can't get any respect," he sighed. This from someone whose books had sold millions of copies. Speaking of books...

"Bob, Beth and I want thank both of you again for sending us your books. We've enjoyed them a lot. Beth even talked me into reading some of Sue's romances and she's really gotten into your mysteries."

"Thanks, I'm glad you like them. By the way, thank you for doing the picture for my latest effort. It's a kick to finally see my mug on one of my books. That's the one problem of writing under a pseudonym.

"Oh, and a big thanks for the portraits you did—both of them."

By that time we had everything onboard the Lady Suzanne. Bob went below and came back with a couple of beers.

"Do you indulge?" he asked, handing me a bottle.

"Not often. After all, I'm not that old yet."

"I keep forgetting that. The two of you seem so mature. You're what now, nineteen? That's legal down here."

"It is?" Hmm, I'd have to remember that...

"My dad used to give me a beer occasionally after a hot day working in the yard but I guess I haven't had enough to develop a taste for it."

Bob gave me an incredulous look. "I'd include you in my next book, but no one would believe it—a college kid who doesn't live on beer?" he kidded me as we sat back enjoying the perfect weather ... and our brews.

Eventually Sue and Beth came back, shopping bags in hand, and we were on our way.

We'd barely cleared the harbor when our ladies disappeared into the cabin, only to reappear in bikinis that would have scandalized their grandmothers—well, maybe not Beth's grandmother, I thought, remembering some of the stories Joan had told of her younger days in the Free-Love Sixties.

The Webbers dropped us off at Matt's beach house with a promise to see us the following day.

While Beth started on our suitcases I put the groceries and the other stuff away. She'd picked up a couple of tubes of sun screen, too—a necessity down here.

"I need a shower," Beth said after she'd had unpacked our few items. We'd learned to pack light for our trips—a few swim suits, t-shirts, shorts and underwear pretty much covered it. "If we need anything else, we'll buy it down there," Beth explained when she packed. "Might as well support the local economy. After all it's only the polite thing to do as guests." Sounded to me like an excuse for her to go shopping with Sue.

I was so fascinated watching her slip out of her clothes and walk toward the shower that I almost forgot to follow her. Almost.

If I live to be a hundred I hope I never lose my ability to enjoy showering with my lady, standing there, holding her as the hot water cascaded down on us.

"Tommy, are we really here?" she asked as she snuggled back into me.

"Oh, yeah," I replied as I ran my soapy hands over her small breasts with their hardening nipples. "And this time we don't have to be back any time soon."

"Mmmm..." was her only response.

"So are you hungry?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah. I could use some food, too," she purred as she reached between us to grab me.

Okay, so it was going to be a short shower.

I wrapped my lady in one of the huge towels Matt kept for the purpose. As I was drying her she kept up a running description of what she wanted to do with me and to me. A very inventive woman, my Beth.


The sun was almost gone by the time we wandered into the kitchen to find some food.

"Tommy, were you serious about finding a place down here?"

"Oh, yeah. Wouldn't you like to be able to do this whenever we wanted to?"

"Mmm, I sure would, but where will we find a place?"

"Well, there's always the house up on the north shore," I kidded her.

"You mean the haunted one where Sue has set some of her books? No thanks!"

We decided on a couple of steaks and baked potatoes for dinner. I went out and lit the grill while Beth cleaned the spuds.

We sat at the picnic table watching the full moon reflecting off the water as we devoured our meal. Although this was our third trip to the islands there was still a surreal feeling knowing we were sixteen hundred miles from home, with water all around us and no responsibilities until school started in the Fall.

Beth moved over and snuggled up next to me. "Mmm, a perfect ending for a hectic day," she said, a lady-like burp punctuating her pleasure.

"So, do you think you'll be able to take being away from everybody and out of touch for the whole Summer?" I asked.

"Who says we'll be out of touch? Bob and Sue have satellite Internet service and Wi-Fi. Sue said we could connect any time we wanted to.

"Speaking of that, what are you going to do when somebody contacts you and wants some pictures?"

"Unless they want fish or mermaids, they're out of luck," I responded.

"You and your mermaids," she said, giving me a playful jab with her elbow. "Where are you going to find a mermaid? I mean a real mermaid?"

"I have no idea, but that's not going to keep me from looking," I said with a grin.

"Well, you have fun looking, and if you get lucky, say hello to Minnie for me," my lady said as she got up, stretched, and walked into the house.

Minnie? Whoinhell was Minnie?


The next morning I woke up to that magical just-before-dawn twilight. I slipped out of bed, grabbed my fins, mask, and snorkel, and wandered down to the water. I waded in and swam parallel to the shore to some rocks that were just below the surface. As I floated there I was amazed again at how clear the water was. Snorkeling in the Caribbean was totally different from the lakes back home.

As I swam closer a bunch of small fish disappeared into their hidey-holes among the rocks. Maybe they thought I was a shark? I floated, realizing I had started humming the theme from Jaws. Suddenly being out in the water by myself didn't seem like a good idea. I swam to shore and walked back to the beach house just in time to see Beth stroll down to the water, her huge beach bag in hand. I noticed my lady had wasted no time going native, and looked forward to spreading SPF50 all over her.

"There you are! Trying to catch breakfast?"

"Just out for a quick dip. No fishing involved," I replied.

"Oh, I figured you were fishing since your bait is dangling. No nibbles?"

That's when I realized I'd gone from bed to water without pulling on a pair of trunks. Going native must be contagious, but the thought of getting nibbled had my "bait" doing a disappearing act.

Beth giggled when she saw my reaction. She took matters in hand and her bait restoration techniques proved as effective as always.


I was drifting off in the warm Caribbean sun when I heard a ship's horn. I looked up and saw a boat on the horizon coming our way. I glanced down at my slumbering love and nudged Beth.

"Hey, better wake up. I think Bob and Sue are almost here."

"Um, okay," she said as she stretched.

"Are you going to meet them like that?"

She looked down, let out a little yelp, reached in her beach bag and pulled out a bikini. "How about you?" she asked as she slipped into the bottom of the microscopic suit.

Oh, shit! The Webbers were almost here and I was standing there in my birthday suit! What to do? I stepped behind Beth, using her as a shield while I looked around for something—anything!— to put on. I reached down for the towel we'd been lying on and wrapped it around my waist. It wasn't a long-term solution, but it was better than standing there in the altogether.

"Hi, guys!" Bob called out with a big grin as the Lady Suzanne reached our dock. "I hope we didn't interrupt anything!"

I walked down the dock, one hand on my towel, then had to switch hands to greet Bob. Sue hopped down next to her husband and gave me one of her special hugs. The combination of the hug, and my reaction to it, almost dislodged the towel—hugging Sue was definitely a two-handed operation.

"It looks like somebody's adapted pretty well to the local conditions," Sue said after greeting Beth with a hug. "There's something special about snoozing on the beach, isn't there?" Her ear-to-ear grin told me we hadn't moved quite quickly enough getting ready for our guests.

"Um, if you'll excuse me for a minute, I'm going to run up and change," I said with as much dignity as I could muster.

"Oh, don't bother," Sue snickered. "You're dressed appropriately for a day on the boat."

"Ah, yeah, but the towel's full of sand and I don't want to scratch the woodwork of this beautiful vessel," I said, pointing to their beautifully restored Chris-Craft.

Bob broke out in a full-throated laugh. "I'm sure it's the boat's woodwork you're worried about!" His double entendre had me rivaling the tropical sun as I made a quick retreat for the house, swearing the whole way that I would NEVER forget my trunks again! It was just too easy down here to skip little things like that.

Bob followed me up. "Tommy, you brought your laptop, didn't you?"

"Yeah, we both did. Beth mentioned you were willing to share your wireless connection."

"Sure. Why don't we set you up now, then you can use it whenever you want."

"Will it reach over here?"

"Oh, I don't think that'll be a problem. A friend of mine got me a special hotspot router that might be a little higher-powered than is strictly legal."

We spent a couple of minutes getting my laptop to connect and I wrote down the instructions for Beth before we walked back to the Lady Suzanne.


"Bob, I can't get over what a beauty you've got here," I told our host as we loafed along between islands.

"Yes, I do, and thank you again for the pictures reminding me of how special she is."

"It must have been a real labor of love to get her back into such beautiful condition."

The dead silence next to me had me looking over at him. He was giving me the strangest look. It was interesting to see his expression change. "Tommy, what did you mean?"

"I was talking about the beautiful job the restoration company did on the Lady Susanne. Why?"

Bob started chuckling, "I was talking about the other Susanne and those pictures you did last year!"

"Oops." I glanced to where our ladies were sunning themselves on the foredeck. It was easy to see why Bob was thinking of his wife.

"Seriously, I really appreciate the pictures you did, especially the special one. As I said in my e-mail, it's easy to start taking someone close to you for granted. It took seeing her through another pair of eyes to remind me of what I'd been overlooking. But I'm glad you like my other lady, too," he ended with a laugh.

His "other lady" had carried us to a deserted shore on a small cay surrounded by acres of colorful coral. Bob carefully dropped anchor and immediately jumped in the crystal-clear water, floating lazily on his back. Sue went below and appeared a few seconds later in a different bikini.

"Um, Sue, why the change?" I asked.

"This one's for swimming!" she answered as she executed a perfect swan dive and paddled next to her husband.

"So, do you have to change, too?" I asked.

"Oh, that's okay, I'm just going to laze around up here."

"Beth, c'mon, you can't stay up here! Look at that beautiful water, let's get wet."

"No, Tommy. I'm just going to stay here."

What was going on here? "Beth, you can't just stay here while everybody else is swimming. Am I going to have to toss you in?" I said as I moved in.

"TOMMY! NO!" I was going to grab her anyway until I saw the look of absolute terror on her face.

"Beth, what's wrong?"

"I-I can't swim," she said with an absolutely mortified look.

"Can't swim? Come on, who are you trying to kid? I've seen you in the water. I know you can swim."

"But, Tommy, I can't. Oh, I can wade around if the water's not too deep, but I'm scared when it gets close to being over my head."

I thought back to our other trips down here and our times in the pond at the farm. She was right, I'd never seen her in deep water.

"Well, what should we do about that?" I asked.

"Oh, just go join Bob and Sue. I'll be okay here by myself. Really."

Why is it when somebody says "really" they mean "No, it won't be!"?

"No, I'll stay here with you."

"Tommy! No, just go, I'll be alright."

"Beth, I can swim any time. I'll stay here with you."

"Hey, you guys! Time to get wet ... unless you already are!" Sue has a delightfully low sense of humor.

"Give us a minute," I yelled back.

"Only a minute? I expected more from you, Tommy!"

"Tommy, go already. I'll be okay."

Think, Tommy, think. There had to be some way to get Beth off the boat.

"Do you trust me?"

"You've asked me that before."

"And have I ever let you down?"

" ... N-no, but I'm scared." I could feel her quivering as I held her.

"Maybe you should go down in the cabin and ask the girl in the mirror."

"Oh, she's probably as bad as her cousin back home, always getting me to do things I don't want to."

"And have either of us ever steered you wrong?" I kidded her.

"Tommy, I never told you this, but she's the one who talked me into going to the coffee shop that first Friday night."

"That turned out okay, didn't it?" She just nodded.

"Beth, I'll go down the ladder first, all you have to do is follow me and I'll hold you up while you float—everybody can float. Then I'll pull you into the shallows."

"Yeah, but what will Bob and Sue think?"

"Just tell them you wanted to try out something from a copy of the Aquatic Kama Sutra you found."

"Tommy!" I got an elbow, but at least she was grinning now.

I backed down the ladder off the stern of the Lady Suzanne and waited for my lady to join me. I was looking up as Beth backed down the ladder. Her bikini wasn't a thong, but it was close. I was tempted to nip at a cheek as she got to the bottom of the ladder, but was afraid that would send her right back up again.

Once Beth was in the water I had her float on her back. I talked her into releasing the ladder and, supporting her back, used the other hand to paddle us into the shallows.

"Beth, is something wrong?" Sue asked.

"N-no, it's just that I can't swim. I never learned how."

"Oh, well, that's easy to fix. We've got all day and Bob used to be a life guard and swimming instructor."

"Beth, do you want me to teach you?" he asked.

She looked at me almost as if she was hoping I'd object. I just nodded. If we actually ended up with a place down here she was going to miss a lot if she didn't learn.

"O-okay, Bob. I'm so embarrassed. It's just that I never took the time when I was a kid. There were always more interesting things to do and now I feel silly."

"Beth, don't be embarrassed. I didn't know how either and I can attest to what a great teacher Bob is." She looked at her husband with a special little grin.

With a sigh, Beth looked at Bob. "Well, I guess better late than never."

"Great! Okay, first, remember the human body is naturally buoyant..."

As Bob led Beth out into the water, Sue and I walked up to the beach and sat down to watch the fun.

"Tommy, you guys really like it down here, don't you?"

"Yeah, we do. Some day we'd like to have a place around here. I suggested the abandoned house on the north shore, but Beth gets the shivers just thinking about it, so I guess we'll just have to keep looking and dreaming."

Sue just chuckled. "I'll warn you, it gets contagious, living down here. I shudder every time I think about moving back up north."

"You're not planning on moving are you?"

"Oh, not now, but some day we may have to. You never know. But for now we just love it down here. It's lucky we can write anywhere. The only drawback is having to be in New York in the middle of winter to see our editors and publishers. Sometimes I think they schedule things in January just to spite us!"

We continued our conversation as we watched Bob try to convince Beth she wasn't going to sink as soon as he pulled his hands out from under her.

After an hour or so teacher and student swam—SWAM!—to shore and joined us on the sand.

"So how'd it go?" Sue asked.

"Just fine. Beth's a quick learner."

"No, it's just that I had a good instructor," my lady replied. "I think I've got at least the basics down. Now just to practice."

"Well," Bob replied, "you'll have plenty of opportunities if you're going to spend the whole summer down here."

"Hey! You're right, I will!" Beth wasn't quite bouncing from foot to foot like a little kid at Christmas.

"So what do we do now?" I asked as I stretched out on the sand.

"Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm tired," my lady said as she plopped down next to me. "I'm all for a nap."

"Hmm," Sue got a glint in her eye. "A 'nap' sounds good. C'mon, Bob, lets find a good spot."

"What's wrong with ... Oh, yeah. We'll be back later," he said as Sue pulled him down the beach.

"So did you enjoy your lesson?"

"Yeah, Bob's a natural instructor and I think with a little practice and a good coach, I won't have any more problems getting in the water.

"Would you be my coach?" she asked in her little girl voice. The one she knows I can't resist.

"We'll have to work out some kind of a deal. I'm a very expensive coach, you know," I replied as I moved closer and ran my fingers up her side.

"Oh, yeah, I know how expensive you can get," she purred as she rolled on top of me.

It didn't take too long to figure out which strings to pull and soon Beth was kneeling over me, her slow rise and fall almost synchronized with the waves lapping at our feet.


We went back in the water to clean up and wash the sand off and had just gotten our suits back on when Bob and Sue came walking down the beach, hand-in-hand like a couple of kids.

"So is anybody else hungry?" Sue asked. "I'm starving! Let's eat!" I saw Bob bite back a comment and had to grin.

"Tommy, will you stay with me while we swim back? I think I can make it, but..."

"Don't worry, I'll be there," I answered as we followed our hosts into the water.

"Do you want me to hold you like before?"

"No, let me try on my own. Just stay close ... please?"

"You know I'll always stay close to you," I whispered in her ear.

Beth surprised me. She struck out and swam the whole distance to the boat by herself. Her style needed some work, but she made it! This time I did nip at her cheeks as she climbed the ladder.

Back on the Lady Suzanne we slipped t-shirts and shorts over our suits and scrounged for lunch.

"Hamburgers okay?" Bob asked.

"Sure! Sounds good!" Sue and Beth answered. "Of course, that means you guy-types will have to cook," Sue added.

Bob lit the grill at the stern of the boat and waited until Beth brought up the burgers and a couple of beers. We put the meat on the grill and sat down on the rear cushions as the patties sizzled.

"Not a bad way to spend a day, is it?" Bob said.

"It sure beats working. Speaking of that, how do you get anything done, living down here? I mean, I'd find it real hard to do anything useful with all the temptations to goof off around here."

"It does take some self-control, I'll admit. Sue usually puts in several hours each morning. I tend to spend a couple of hours in the morning just scribbling ideas and updating my outlines, then a few more hours at night actually writing.

"Well, except when a good excuse comes along. You know, like playing tour guide to friends."

Oh, sure, make me feel guilty.

The girls came up with the rest of the food just as Bob was flipping the burgers over. "Not too long now!"

After we ate the girls stripped down to their bikinis and stretched out on the foredeck again.

"So, have you taken any good pictures yet?" Bob asked as he piloted us back home.

"Not yet. I really hope my new waterproof housing lets me get some good underwater shots.

"By the way, when I mentioned I wanted some pictures of mermaids Beth told me to say hello to Minnie. Do you have any idea who Minnie is?"

Bob just laughed and started singing.

Oh, what a time I had with Minnie the Mermaid,
Down at the bottom of the sea.
Down amongst the corals where she lost her morals,
My, but she was good to me.
Oh, what a time I had with Minnie the Mermaid
Down in her seaweed bungalow.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust;
Two twin beds and only one of them mussed.
Oh, what a gal was my Minnie the Mermaid,
Down at the bottom of the sea.

"So that's what she meant," I said when Bob finished.

"Yeah. Not exactly Hans Christian Andersen is it?"

"Nope." I grinned. "I wonder how Beth knew about Minnie?"

"Let's find out," Bob said.

"Hey, Beth," he shouted forward. "How did you know about Minnie the Mermaid?"

She just laughed. "My dad has an album with Minnie on it. I think he got it from Grandpa Hank and I used to listen to it when I was little. I thought it was just a funny song until I got old enough to understand it."

"Well, Tommy, if you get a picture of her can I get a copy?" Bob asked.

"As long as a picture is ALL he gets!" Beth warned with a fake scowl.

We got back to the island just before sunset. Bob and Sue dropped us off after we made arrangements to get together Saturday night. "There's a great band playing at one of the local clubs. Let's make a night of it," Sue suggested.

"What should I wear?" Beth asked. She and Sue discussed clothes for a couple of minutes. Long enough that I wasn't surprised when Beth asked if we could do some shopping the next day. Shopping didn't exactly trip my trigger, but as an excuse to get Matt's Helm out on the water it would work.

The next morning, or was it afternoon?—down here, who cares!—we sailed to a neighboring island. Sue had mentioned a couple of shops and Beth had that "Visa beware" look in her eye.

"Tommy, you've got to get something for Saturday. You can't show up in shorts and a t-shirt."

Sigh.

I ended up buying a guayabera shirt and a pair of white slacks.

"Now, a pair of shoes and you'll be all set!"

Shoes? What were they? I guess dancing—even the shuffling I did—wouldn't be easy in flip-flops.

A pair of loafers later and we were done. Well, except for food. Bob had mentioned an out-of-the way little place. The kind populated by locals, not tourists.

"I'm going to get a margarita and a Crab Louis salad," I said as we were seated at a table on a deck built out over the water.

"Tommy, they're not going to serve you a drink. We're not old enough."

"Down here we are. The drinking age is eighteen."

"It is? Well, then I guess I'll get the same thing! The salad, too."

Our drinks were delivered—with no request for IDs—while they prepared our salads.

"Mmm, these are good!" Beth said, trying a second sip, then a big gulp.

"Hey, watch that. I'm gonna feel pretty dumb if I have to carry you back to the boat."

"Killjoy," she said with a grin as she took another taste.

When our food arrived it was obvious that we could have ordered one salad and split it.

"Tommy, I'm never going to be able to finish this!" Beth wailed as she looked at the big plate full of lettuce, crab meat, hard-boiled eggs, and all the other fixin's.

"I thought shopping made you hungry?" I kidded her.

"Yeah, but look at this thing. I'm going to need another of these!" she said, holding up her empty glass.

As we worked through our food—and the margaritas—we talked about plans for the rest of the day.

"So are we done shopping now?" First things first.

"Yeah, I think sho, er, so."

Once we'd finished our salads—and Beth's third 'rita—we stood up ... or I stood up. Beth seemed to have a problem with her balance. I grabbed our packages and helped her out of her chair. I didn't have to carry her back to the boat ... quite. Obviously three margaritas was at least one over her limit. I was feeling a little self-righteous—I'd only had one. There was no way I was going to take a chance with Matt's expensive baby trying to sail her while under the influence.

As soon as we got back to the boat Beth collapsed on one of the berths and started snoring. I'd never seen her like that before and I didn't know whether to be amused or frightened. In our relationship she always seemed to be so level-headed and responsible and here she was, passed out, while I was the sober one. Just to be on the safe side I moved a wastebasket next to the berth. I'd never been drunk enough to blow chunks, but I remembered the horror stories from some of my friends.

Once we were out of the harbor I checked on my snoring lady and stepped up into the pilot house, pulled open a padded drawer in the console, and removed the beautiful brass contraption that had fascinated me the first time I saw it.

I'd found the sextant on our last trip and when we got home I'd picked up a book on navigation that described how to use it. Now to see if I could actually figure out where we were. Modern navigational tools were making things like this beautiful hunk of machinery almost obsolete; I just wanted to see if I could use it.

After taking a shot of the sun I ran into a problem—no watch! I went back in the pilot house and checked the chronometer mounted near the inside helm. Now that I had the sun angle and time all I had to do was figure out what to do with them. Several minutes of furious scribbling and checking tables convinced me I had little future as a navigator—we were either somewhere in the western Atlantic or on dry land in the middle of India. It was a good thing Matt had equipped his boat with all the necessary electronics to help keep me from getting lost!

Maybe I should have paid more attention in trig class?


When we got back home I managed to get my lady up and moving. I'd have to come back down and clean out the wastebasket later. Ugh.

"Oh, Tommy, I'm gonna be sick!" Beth said as she leaned over the side and proved it. I got her up to the house where she crashed on the bed and promptly started snoring again.

With a sigh I changed into a pair of trunks and walked back down the dock. I dumped the wastebasket, washed it out, then scrubbed down the side of Matt's Helm. Somebody was going to owe me big time for this.


I was sitting at the kitchen table, Kindle in hand, reading, when I heard movement behind me. I turned and saw a very sad-looking Beth stagger out of the bedroom.

"Oh, Tommy. Why'd you let me do that?" she moaned.

"Do what? Over-estimate your capacity for alcohol?"

"Ohhh ... Don't ever let me do that. I'm never going to drink again!" We'd see about that. Trying to tell Beth not to do something was to ignore King Canute's advice on trying to hold back the tide.


The next morning my lady was back to her old self. She jumped out of bed, grabbed her bag of goodies and headed for the beach. By the time I followed her—remembering to bring a suit with me this time—she was already wading in the water.

"Tommy, let's go swimming!"

"Okay, let me get my trunks on first."

"Aw, you're not going to go trolling?" she giggled.

"Nope. I've already caught what I was looking for." That earned me a kiss that had me grinning for most of the day.

"Do you want to just swim or should I show you how to use a mask and snorkel too?" Matt had several sets he kept for guests and I'd grabbed some on the off chance Beth might be adventuresome.

"Um ... let me get some practice in just swimming, then I'll try the fancy stuff."

I'll say one thing for Beth—she's a quick study. It wasn't too long until she was swimming around our beach area as if she'd been born in the water.

"Tommy, can I try the mask now?"

"Do you want the snorkel and fins too?"

"Oh, why not!"

I showed her how to adjust the mask and made sure the fins fit her. I'd lost a fin snorkeling in a lake back home and didn't want to have to replace one of Matt's.

We swam out to the rocks I'd found our first day here. Beth took to the snorkel with a vengeance—until she tried to dive down to get a closer look at the rocks and forgot that doing that put the tip of the snorkel under water. She didn't panic when she got a mouthful of water, but quickly came back to the surface and spent the next few seconds coughing up the seawater she'd inhaled.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

She nodded as she continued coughing. Eventually she got her voice back. "Damn, that was a dumb move, wasn't it?"

"Don't feel bad, it's something almost everybody's done at least once."

We spent the rest of the morning paddling around in our own little world. Now all we needed was a book of verse and a jug of wine to be in paradise.

Would a Kindle and a couple of Cokes work as substitutes?

We finally stumbled up to the house for lunch and decided to spend the afternoon on the water instead of in it.

As soon as we were underway, Beth pulled off her t-shirt and shorts and showed me the new bikini she'd bought. I wasn't going to ask how much it cost but I was willing to bet that on a per-yard-of-fabric basis it had to be one of the most expensive things she owned.

"So can you swim in that or is it just for show?"

"Well, it's really made for tanning—like the one Sue wore the other day. The material allows the sunlight through so I'll get an even tan."

"So you won't have to take anything off to tan anymore?" I wasn't sure I liked the idea, even though her suit didn't leave much to the imagination.

"Oh, poor Tommy," Beth said with a grin.

"So where should we go?" I asked.

"I've heard Aruba's nice."

"It's also probably a thousand miles away. Maybe someplace a little closer? After all we've got to be back by Saturday."

"I can go right down to the end of the town and be back in time for tea," Beth sing-songed.

"Okay, tea it is," I said as I aimed toward one of the islands that had a nice little tea shop we'd found on our first trip down here.


We sailed back to the house before dark and had just tied up when two kids, a boy and a girl, walked down the dock.

"That sure is a nice boat," the boy said. He and his companion were maybe eight or nine. He was dressed like I was—shorts and a t-shirt. The young girl with him, however, was wearing an outfit that included a long skirt, a big, floppy hat, and even shoes! Not flip-flops, but real shoes.

"Yes, it is, a very nice boat, I'd love to have one like it some day. My name's Tommy, and this is Beth," I said as my lady came up on deck.

"Hi, my name is Jim Swanson, we have the house on the west side of the island, and this is Cecily Fitzhugh."

"Hello. Are you a naturist?" The young girl asked Beth.

"Huh? I mean, why do you ask?"

"Well ... I thought only naturists went in the water without a bathing costume."

I almost laughed at the expression on my lady's face—panic, followed by relief when she glanced down and saw she WAS wearing her bikini.

"Oh, this. It's just a swim suit."

"B-but where's the rest of it?" Cecily asked. "My mother would never let me go bathing in something like that!"

"Cecily, are you staying with Jim's family?" I asked, puzzled by the young girl's reaction to Beth's bikini. Was her family a bunch of religious nuts?

"No, my parents own the house up there." She pointed to the north end of the island.

"I thought that place was abandoned."

"Abandoned? Oh, no. Our family spends every Summer here. Ever since my grandfather built it."

"Who is your grandfather?" Beth asked.

"William Montgomery Fitzhugh. My father is Christopher Fitzhugh. You must be visitors not to know that."

Before Beth could answer, we heard a voice shouting, "JIMMY, where are you? It's time to eat!"

"Uh-oh, that's my mother. I've got to go!"

"I should go also," Cecily said. "Perhaps we will see each other again." Before either of us could say anything, both kids disappeared up the path that connected all of the island's houses—including the 'abandoned' one.

Beth and I looked at each other. What was going on here?

"Tommy, what did she mean by that? She seemed to think everyone on the island would know her family, but Bob and Sue said nobody knew who owned that place or the last time anybody was there."

"I don't know. I mean, how could she live in an abandoned house? And what was with that outfit she was wearing?"

Beth just shook her head as we walked toward the house.


For the first time since we left home I decided to indulge in a bad habit and check my e-mail. I logged in and saw the usual junk with a few gems scattered here and there. I started by deleting the obvious spam and moved on to the important stuff. Buried in the week's-worth of messages was one from Joe at the camera shop. The subject was Review. I opened the message.


TOMMY,

YOU'RE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE THE REVIEW! CHECK IT OUT!

JOE


He'd included a URL for the magazine. I clicked on it and started reading:

As you can imagine, we get a lot of products to review, some from major manufacturers and some from small, specialty companies. The three devices from Photomongery fit firmly in the second category, and once again demonstrate that a small company can produce excellent products. None of their ideas are new but the quality of the design and construction would make any of them a welcome addition to most gadget bags.

The tripod extension arm is a well thought-out piece for any photographer who needs a sturdy mount, especially for macro work. The arm is well built and easily adjustable (see Figure 1). The unit locks at any height and offers a stable platform for any but the heaviest of still or video cameras. The addition of the optional universal mount allows the arm to be fastened to almost any surface you can reach around, be it a tree, a lamp post or railing (Figures 2-5). Remove the tripod mount from the side of the arm and the Velcro straps will attach it to anything up to four feet in diameter.

The swivel head is something we've all seen before, but, while Photomongery's design is nothing new, the construction puts it above many similar units on the market. The head moves smoothly and, when locked, is rock-solid.

If you're into gadgetry—and what photographer isn't—check out their gear at www.photomongery.com. You won't regret it.


I was sitting there re-reading the review when Beth walked in.

"Anything interesting?" she asked. I just pointed to my screen, unwilling to speak, afraid it would all turn out to be a dream.

As she read over my shoulder I could feel her excitement build and I could tell when she got to the end.

"Tommy! They liked it!" And suddenly I had a squirming girl on my lap trying to devour me.

Once I got her settled down I had a chance to read the rest of my mail—nothing special. Although after that review I was going to have to revise my idea of what constituted "special."

When I was done Beth gave me a hip-shot that left me standing and her sitting in front of my laptop.

"What did you think of Cecily's story?" Beth mused. "I mean, how could they be living in that wreck of a house? And what was with her clothes? Have you ever seen anything like what she was wearing?"

"Only in old pictures," I responded. "Maybe her family is a bunch of religious wackos?"

"I'm going to see what I can find out about the Fitzhugh family." She did a search and found a number of hits for a William Montgomery Fitzhugh from New York City.

"This must be the family, it says William had a son, Christopher, but the dates don't make any sense." She continued her search.

"Tommy, look at this," she said quietly, pointing with a shaky finger to a New York newspaper article from April 15, 1912. "It says noted industrialist Christopher William Fitzhugh, his wife, Caroline, and their eight-year-old daughter Cecily were lost on the Titanic!"

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