Smooth Sailing (38 page)

Kaatje nodded, not saying a word.

“If that doesn’t interest you, I can get you a work permit fairly easily. You could do almost anything at Luxor. Hospitality, customer relations… there are hundreds of jobs. But you have to really do the job. It can’t be a way to just get in and run your business.”

Again, a nod.

“A work permit is easy, but a green card is tough. But if we can figure out a way to convince the government you have skills the US needs, we can do it. One way is to work for a few years for Luxor, in a job they have trouble filling. Once you’ve done that, you can quit and do anything you want. You can have your business legally, and stay with me forever.” She didn’t reveal how many strings she had to pull to get that promise from various levels of the bureaucracy. She knew Kaatje wouldn’t be impressed that the CEO himself had given the final approval, just to keep Laurie.

“How many years would that take?”

Glumly, Laurie said, “No one could give me a firm date.”

“Years?”

“Yeah, definitely years.”

“Ten years?”

Laurie shook her head. “They wouldn’t give me a guess.”

“Is there a guarantee I’d get the green card?”

Damn her and her perceptive questions!
“Not really a guarantee. You never know what’s going to happen with immigration. And there’s a big backlog of applicants. You’d probably be in the…unskilled labor category.” She swallowed at even having to say that. “That makes it take longer.”

“Those don’t sound like very good options.” Kaatje finally took a bite of her food, and a memory flooded Laurie’s mind of their first night together. This was just how Kaatje had looked that night when she thought Laurie wanted to leave; guarded, suspicious, and hurt. “I don’t want to be a student, but even if I did, wouldn’t we be right back to this point when I graduated?”

“Uhm, yeah, I guess.” She brightened. “But I’d have four more years of work behind me and I’d have more savings. I could probably retire.”

“At thirty-six?” Kaatje’s look said it all. “You’re saying that in four years it won’t bore you to sit on my boat and talk with strangers?”

“Look,” she said, her voice rising, “I’m doing everything I can to make this work!”

Kaatje threw down her fork and leaned over the table. They were almost eye to eye and Kaatje’s gaze was smoking hot. “No you haven’t. There’s one thing you need to do. Change! You promised me you wanted to quit. You promised you’d be happy with me. You have to work on changing. It’s not going to be fast, and it’s not going to be easy, but this is where we have to be, and you have to adapt!”

“That’s not fair!” Laurie jumped up and Kaatje did the same. “You want me to quit my job and do what you want, but when I ask you to do the same you won’t!”

“It’s not the same at all. I want you to spend your days with me, working at something you could come to love. You want me to quit what I love and do something I don’t have any interest in. And you’ll keep right on working ungodly hours. So I’ll be there mainly for you to sleep with. When you’re not sleeping on the sofa in your office.” She turned and went into the cabin, emerging a few minutes later with her snorkel, mask and a powerful flashlight. She was naked and looked like she wanted to physically fight the first person she encountered. “I’m not punishing you, but I need to be alone.” With that, she jumped into the water, and Laurie watched her light slowly fade away in the dark, still water.

*

Kaatje was gone longer than was kind. Laurie was mad with worry, but she didn’t have the skills to jump in and look for her, which was folly anyway. After an hour, Kaatje’s light shown just off the bow of the boat, and Laurie realized she’d probably been very close for most of the time. There was no way she would have missed the light drawing near, so Kaatje had obviously just turned it on. She swam around to the stern and climbed the ladder, no longer looking angry. She dropped her gear and stared at Laurie whose eyes were red from crying. “It’s not going to work. You might as well go back now.”

Ignoring her dry clothes, Laurie grabbed her and hung on for dear life. “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth. I’m going to go to The Netherlands as soon as I can. You can go with me or…” She collapsed in tears, with Laurie joining her as their hearts broke together.

THE ONLY THING Laurie was sure of was that she didn’t want to go to Holland. She hoped to spend much time there in the future, but for now, she had to make a decision about Luxor. Being in Holland wouldn’t help her do that. For now, they were out of options.

It took a couple of days to get a flight to Cincinnati, and things were surprisingly calm between them. Kaatje wasn’t much of a fighter, and that was very reassuring. But she looked so sad and brokenhearted that Laurie could barely stand to look at her. They kept busy taking people out. Since most of the boats had gone down island, everyone who wanted to sail seemed to call. That was a big blessing, because sitting on the boat trying not to cry was too much to ask for.

The day before she was to leave, Laurie caught Kaatje as she was exiting the shower. They hadn’t made love since they’d decided to part, but she couldn’t bear to think that they’d already had their last time together.

She put her hands on Kaatje’s bare shoulders and started when Kaatje turned and looked at one hand as though she were considering whether to allow it to stay. But her head slowly turned back towards Laurie and she grasped her in a feverish embrace. In seconds they were on the bed, with Kaatje yanking on the panties that Laurie was wearing. She pulled hard and they snapped, then were flung aside, forgotten.

Kaatje lay atop Laurie’s body, covering her completely—hands holding hands, legs pinning legs beneath her. “I never want to let you go,” she whispered hoarsely. “I love you with my whole soul.”

“I love you too,” Laurie cried, trying not to sob. She buried her face in Kaatje’s shoulder and tried to breathe in her soothing scent.

Kaatje gently grasped her face and turned it until their noses touched. “Work on coming back to me. Work as hard as you can.”

“I will. I swear I will.”

Then, neither needing to speak, they began to make love. They’d learned each other’s bodies and hearts. Words were truly superfluous.

*

The next morning, a cab met Laurie on the dock, the same dock where she and Kaatje had met. They stood there in the blazing sun, neither able to speak. There was little left to say. If she went back to Luxor, they were through. That was a no-brainer. But it wasn’t clear they’d make it if she quit Luxor. It was obvious she didn’t make a good first mate.

Kaatje tossed the bags in the back of the van, then stood there with her hands in the pockets of her shorts. She looked like she was going to cry, but her eyes were dry. Apparently there were only so many tears in the human body. Putting her head against Kaatje’s chest was both reassuring and terrifying. What if this was the last time that strong heartbeat thrummed in her ear? Kaatje tenderly kissed the top of her head, then stepped back, her expression now a blank mask. “Be safe,” she said, her voice strained.

“I will.” The door closed and she turned her head so she didn’t have to see Kaatje’s beautiful image getting smaller and smaller.

*

Much later that day, after a change in Miami, Laurie landed in Cincinnati. She craved advice like a drug, and desperately hoped her mother could help. They could have talked more on the phone, but with Kaatje always being around it was hard to let loose and get everything off her chest. Being there in person would surely help. It simply had to.

She was surprised to see just her Mom waiting for her in the car. “Where are the girls?” They’d always come to the airport to pick her up and would fight over who got to sit with her in the back.

“It’s a school night, honey. They have to be in bed by nine.”

“Oh. I forgot. It seems like the middle of summer to me.”

“I bet it does. Are you sad?” She put her hand on Laurie’s shoulder.

“If this is sad, I hope I never get depressed.”

*

There was nothing to do the next day. Everyone was at work, leaving hours of time to obsess. On her second day, Laurie went to the office with her mom, the office manager of the family lighting business. She was determined to fill her day with something—even if it meant dusting the display fixtures as she’d done when she was a child.

She actually did spend two hours dusting, but her mother was finally able to take time out for lunch. They went to a local restaurant to avoid being interrupted by the constantly ringing phone.

Her mom had been suitably sympathetic and a very willing ear the first evening, but now she was full of questions. “Tell me about your offer to buy another boat,” she said, picking at her salad.

“I told you about it weeks ago—the first time Kaatje shot me down. I’d sell my house and use the proceeds to buy a second catamaran. We could get one as nice as
The Flying Dutchwoman
if we bought one a few years old. I’d captain that one and we’d try to find bigger groups to take longer trips. There’s a lot more money in that.”

“And why doesn’t Kaatje want that?”

“I told you, Mom. She says it’d be double the work for her, since I’m not a real sailor, and she’s sure there isn’t enough business to keep both boats busy. She says it’d be a lot more worry for a small profit.”

“And why do you think you know more than she does about her business?”

Laurie stabbed a French fry with her fork. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you framed that question. It’s not that I know more than she does. But she doesn’t think big. She leaves money on the table all of the time.” She adopted what she thought was a pretty good imitation of Kaatje’s Caribbean/Dutch/English accent. “I don’t take clients if I don’t like them. Life’s too short to deal with idiots.” She shook her head. “Can you imagine how broke you’d be if that’s how you ran your business?”

“No, but if I could afford to, I’d do it in a minute.”

“Well, I don’t think you can run a business like you do your personal life. I bet dad agrees with me.”

“I’m sure he does. That’s why he works seventy hours a week. That’s also why I have to light a stick of dynamite under him to get him to take a vacation.”

“A business is a hard thing to be responsible for, Mom. He has a lot of people who depend on him.”

Becky looked like she was going to make a snappish reply, but she sat quietly for a few moments. “He’s almost sixty. Our house is paid off, our kids are grown, and there’s plenty of money in the college fund for our grandkids. What are we working for? When do we get to do what
I
want?”

Touched, Laurie reached out and covered her mother’s hand with her own. “What
do
you want?”

“I want to be with Kaatje,” she said, smirking. She pulled her hand away and added, “I don’t want to have sex with a woman, but I’d love to live in the Caribbean and The Netherlands and travel around Europe. I’ve never even been to Canada.”

“You were in Japan.”

“Yes, we were, and I loved it. But we only saw a bit of Osaka and the park…which was wonderful, honey. You know how proud I am of you. But I want more out of life than making sure the people of Cincinnati have adequate lighting in their homes. I want to travel and get up late and do something I can feel a little embarrassed about. I’ve never done one thing I’d be afraid to tell my mother. That’s an awful thing to admit.”

“Are you…unhappy?”

“Well…” Becky took a long breath. “I could be happier. Work is the way I make money. It doesn’t give me true happiness.”

“It does me,” Laurie said sadly. “It truly does.”

“Then you might as well be honest with Kaatje and let her find someone who shares her values.”

“I share her values!”

“No, on a very important level, you don’t. If you really loved her, you’d put her first. It’s that simple. You’re not treating Kaatje any differently than you did Colin. I hate to say this, honey, but I don’t think you’re the kind of person who can be in a relationship. You should just have some flings with other workaholics.”

Laurie’s eyes filled with tears, and she struggled valiantly to control them. “How can you say that?”

Becky reached over and grasped her hand, squeezing it tightly. “I hate to hurt you, baby. I’m just being as honest as I can be. Kaatje is waiting for you to make up your mind, and I hate to see her get more hurt than she already is.”

“But you don’t mind hurting me!”

“Yes, I do. Of course I do. But you’ll be fine. You’ll get a new project and you won’t notice the years flying by. Kaatje’s not like that. It will take her a long time to get over you.”

“God damn it, Mom! You make it sound like I have no soul.”

“Not at all, honey. You’re a very caring, very loyal woman. But if you
can
let Kaatje go over a job…you
should
…for
her
sake.”

*

They’d spoken every day, but the conversations were short and not very sweet. Kaatje had pulled way back, exposing very little of her soft side. That night, Laurie reached her when Kaatje was already in bed, and she could clearly imagine just how she looked—naked, hair mussed, her beautiful eyes heavy with sleep. “Hi, I just wanted to check in.”