Chapter 27

Johanna's turn:

Almost magical, waking up in the morning on the boat. Not sure exactly what time it is, reminding myself that it really doesn't matter, feeling the form of this MAN touching me, rolling to face him, snuggling in against him. The boat is rocking gently and there's the wind and the waves and the sound of our breathing.

I know my guy is drifting along because he hugs me closer and resumes his even breathing. I know several things that would be very pleasant for both of us, but I choose to slide back into slumber with him.

Okay, I've got a mind running a thousand miles a minute right now. Johanna Elise is married. I'm supposed to be the rational girl. Woman. Twenty-one. A matter of months from graduation from college with a business degree and a music degree and...

Two months ago I thought that if all else failed, I could just pull the ripcord and parachute back into Mom and Dad's lives, and they'd be disappointed but understanding, the job market being what it is, but they love me and they'd accept that.

Instead, I'm now Johanna Elise Solheim Jackson.

We've talked, Mister Jackson and I, about careers and finances. "You just go ahead and be a charming college student for the time being. I know people that raise whole families on what I'm making. I'm pretty sure that we won't be in a bind."

"I am not worried about staving off starvation, dear," I said.

"Then what is it you wish to do?"

"Use my degree. Administer a business."

"The whole thing?"

"If it was a little business. But no, I'd be happy with a staff position."

"What about your music?"

"The symphony says they will have me on the list. That's not a career, though."

"Then you just figure out what it is you wish to do, then we will try to set it up so you can do it."

"I'd like to think that I'm able to do this on my own, Stoney."

"Oh, okay... 'I am Woman, hear me roar..."

"Beast!" I squealed, punching his arm. "It's NOT that."

"Then what is it?"

"Several things, guy. I want to prove that I can be a functional member of society."

"I've heard you play. You contribute more to society with one concerto than some lower-tier functionary does with a decade of checking 'Form B' in some admin office."

"But flute-players don't make enough to keep a house."

"I can provide that function, sweetie," he said. I know he means it. He's old-school. A provider. Like Dad. Problem is, I'm a woman, like Mom. It's one thing to be loved and to love and trust in return. It's quite another to be helpless.

"I'm not going to be helpless, baby,"

"I don't think you're helpless, Jo. I'm just saying that you don't have to fret over when and where you go to work."

In my early morning reverie, I feel a stirring, then a major move as the love of my life rolls over and wraps me in his arms, spooning up against me. I suspect that he's mostly awake right now because his face seeks to nestle into the hair on the back of my head.

A soft "Mmmmmm" near my ear confirms my suspicion. It's worth a little wiggle of my heinie to see what I can work up. I wiggle gently, slowly, like I'm settling into a comfortable chair.

I get a wiggle in return and the hand at the end of the arm that's cuddling me, that hand gently cups my breast. And a little kiss touched the back of my head.

"G'mornin', sweet Jo," he says softly.

I twist around to face him, planting a kiss on his lips. "G'morning, my love." I didn't let him harbor the idea of morning breath. I wanted his. We kissed. Pulled apart. Smiled. Made happy noises. Kissed again. Then I kissed his nose. "Let's do something for breakfast. And I need to hit the head."

"Me too. But I can go over the side."

"You're naked and it's cold out there."

"I'll scan to see if there's anybody around and I'm gonna be right back."

Yes, my husband is nude. And Yes, I watched his naked butt walk to the ladder going topside. He opened the hatch, took a step up, and then finished going topside as I backed into the head. Marine toilets. Pull this. Pump that. Turn this other thing. I envied Stoney his quick whiz over the side.

When I heard the hatch close, I bent forward to see Stoney. Yes, I DO look. I'm supposed to find him attractive, and in fact I find him arousing. I finished cycling the head and stood up.

"You're staring."

"Not staring," I giggled. "Appreciating. And if I'm not supposed to get annoyed when you look at me, then you shouldn't be annoyed when I look at you."

"Well, if you walk around like that, I'll never get breakfast done."

"And if you cook breakfast like that, you're liable to splash something hot on something tender. Get dressed."

We both donned jeans and shirts. I didn't bother with a bra. It's not totally necessary for support with my breast size, and if Stoney got a little too much nipplage, we both were okay with it.

Breakfast was oatmeal with dried fruit, a couple of eggs with some bacon. Orange juice. And water was on the stove boiling for coffee afterward. I cracked a porthole to let some of the humidity out of the cabin. As we sat at the dinette, eating, little wisps of the outside chill touched my face.

"You're smiling," he said.

"Of course I am. Breakfast. You. Our boat. Solitude."

"You're into the 'solitude' thing, aren't you, baby?" he said.

"Not to an extreme. It's just something that I appreciate, probably a lot more than a lot of other people. Key used to worry about me staying home so many evenings. Now, I ... You and I, that's technically not solitude. I just get every bit of you to myself."

"Whatever isn't minding the boat."

"We can both mind the boat. Just like we can both mind the apartment. Doesn't take much time. I'm spreading my honeymoon out over WEEKS and there are times that I desire you all to myself."

"You have decades of that ahead of you, redhead," he said.

I collected the breakfast dishes, all of which went into the trash. Overnighters, we stayed with disposable things. Only had to wash a few pots. I poured the simmering water over the coffee in the French press.

"Stoney, I've been keeping something from you."

He looked almost frightened.

"No," I said, "nothing bad."

"Then what?"

"All that talking about working. Whether or not I have to work because you can make enough to support us?"

"Yeah?"

"Neither of us has to work after I graduate."

"Neither of us. How's that?"

"Great uncle, Dad's uncle, is the major stockholder of Solheim Limited."

"Like the 'Solheim Limited' that has its name all over the North Sea?"

"You know of them?"

"Yes. Actually was a sub-contractor on something that ties to them. Anybody working around the oil business knows the name."

"And you didn't make the connection?"

"I figured Solheims in Norway were like Jacksons here. All over the place."

"You're kind of right. But there's a trust fund. Mine turns over to me when I graduate."

"How much?"

"Don't know exactly, but substantial."

What about your mom and dad?"

"Dad couldn't stop working if you held a gun to his head. He's not in it for the money."

"And his beautiful daughter keeps a secret very well."

"I didn't want ... I wanted it to be about Stoney and Jo, working class. Not about Johanna Solheim, trust fund baby."

He looked almost hurt. "Johanna Solheim, angel from heaven. Johanna Solheim, Norwegian-Irish forest nymph. Johanna Solheim, siren. Johanna Solheim, horrible punster and brilliant musician."

"Johanna Solheim JACKSON, wife of engineer warrior poet. That's what I wanted it to be, Stoney. About us. And the conversations..."

"In which you played me like a fish..." he said, eyes stern.

"I wanted us to be able to stand on our own. You and me. Ourselves. Our place."

"But you knew that you didn't need me."

I got kind of ruffled at that 'you didn't need me' comment. "For exactly ONE thing, Randall Jackson. ONE THING. I don't need the stinkin' money. WE don't need the money. You, sir, I need for everything else." I drew a breath. "You're supposed to be happy at this news."

"Sorry. I'm digesting it."

"Don't let it upset you. You got that little lump you just put in the bank from that media system. That got us quite comfortable. I just..."

"You just took us from comfortable to..."

"To anywhere you want to be with me."

"Make no mistake, little girl..." he started, his face serious. I was frightened. He continued, "I married you. Money had nothing to do with it before, and it doesn't have anything to do with it now. I love you. I swore that to you under the full moon and again in front of friends and family before God."

"Oh, Stoney..." I said. And I wrapped him up, showering him with kisses.

"Any other secrets? Like you're heiress to the throne of Ireland or something?"

"Nothing. I've already told you how much I love you. Come sit down."

"I'm going to sit down, how come you're pushing me to the berth?"

I giggled. "Lounge, Stoney. Relax. Let's have that conversation again."

"What conversation?"

"The one about me getting a job and you working and stuff like that."

He smiled. Maybe it was starting to sink in.

"How's your engineering cred, Stoney? I mean, if I graduated and stomped my foot and said 'long vacation', could you do a leave of absence? Or resign and get another job later?" It was fun watching his face as he parsed that statement.

"Johanna," he said, "I thought I was marrying you and we'd have a happy little home and we'd have our careers and friends and families. Just like everybody else."

"Is this bad?"

"No. Different. I'm supposed to be the successful provider."

"And you are, Stoney. Until June the first of next year. Then we meet with an attorney and ... you'll still be the successful provider. We'll just have a really nice nest egg." I leaned back against him. I knew he wasn't going to remain sitting for long. I was right. He lay back and I climbed on top of him, my face inches from his. Those blue eyes. Yeah, the scar. It doesn't tan like the rest of him. But he's ... just handsome. I kissed HIS nose, because he does that to me and I love it.

"I'm glad I waited until we were on the boat to tell you," I said.

"Why?"

"So you couldn't storm off."

"Why would I storm off?"

"I've heard that some guys can't handle their wives having the money."

"I ... you don't have THE money. We both could do quite well without Great-uncle Lars' fortune. If that disappeared tomorrow we'd still have a marvelous life ahead of us. I was quite happy to think that I had a lifetime of your beauty and your music and your conversation ahead of me, even with both of us working. Or me working and you staying home with our offspring."