Smooth Sailing (40 page)

Neither of them could compromise any more. They each had needs that were entirely independent of each other, and they had to meet those needs or break up. Losing her would be like losing a limb. It would be possible to go on, but things would never, ever be the same without her.

Dazed and aching with sorrow, Laurie walked around for a long time, finally seeing a sign that read “Kayak Rentals.”

In a few minutes she was outfitted with an orange boat, a life vest and a paddle. She’d had to bluff her way into convincing the young man at the counter of her proficiency, but she was a good swimmer and had grown very comfortable in the ocean.

He helped her into the boat, and she conducted herself respectably as she paddled away, leaving him none the wiser that this was her first time in a kayak.

She’d been told to stay close, and that wasn’t a hard commandment to honor. The water was much darker and choppier than the Caribbean, and it didn’t smell as good, either. But that was probably because of all of the huge yachts, or diesel gulpers as Kaatje called them, that her little harbor was thankfully lacking. Laurie’s mind kept going back to Miami. Living there would make her just an hour or two from Kaatje by air. Maybe they could work something out. They could be together for six months in the states, then Laurie could visit every weekend during the rest of the year. If Kaatje truly loved her why wouldn’t six months together every year be better than none?

It took just a few moments to admit that taking weekends off was a dream that would never be a reality. No one at her level worked five days a week. It was possible to be in the office only five days, but was being on the phone or on her computer the other two days the same as truly being with Kaatje? Kaatje wouldn’t think so, and who could blame her. No, every visit would require a lot of planning and she’d be stressed the whole time. Still, the job in Miami was intriguing, and was the next step in the plan she’d been working towards since the day she received her MBA.

Paddling around, staying alert to moving boats, she got into a nice rhythm. Being second in hotels and resorts would be a big deal, and her next promotion would be a slam dunk. But what would being an EVP really mean? What had Kaatje asked? Something about wondering if more windows in your office made you happier? Of course they didn’t. What made a person happy was an accumulation of all of the little things that gave you satisfaction. If the things on her list were present she’d be happy making twenty thousand and having no title at all, much less an EVP.

The thought of hotels in Miami, Madrid, Osaka, Los Angeles and San Diego was sobering. All of those people. All of the problems. All of those reports. And she wouldn’t personally be able to change a light bulb, or a sheet, or adjust the temperature in a shower head. Thousands and thousands of rooms, each with a hundred different issues that could, and would arise. And all she could do was take responsibility for the errors and rely on someone to fix them properly. From high up in an office building miles from the nearest hotel.

She stared at the choppy water, and saw the list she’d made make perfect sense. It was crazy to even consider the job in Miami. Almost nothing on her list was there. She didn’t need that much money, or that much responsibility. What she needed was Kaatje, and how she’d get her suddenly seemed so obvious that she could have kicked herself for not having thought of it earlier. She quickly paddled back to the dock, paid for the kayak, and sprinted to the quiet of her car. Not even checking the time, she dialed St. Maarten, and reached him at home.

“Hello, Theo, it’s Laurie. I’ve got an idea, and I need to pick your brain for a while. Is this a good time?”

THREE DAYS LATER, Laurie sat on a bench near the Hoogeboom home. She’d been waiting for more than two hours, but it was a nice fall day in Amsterdam and she was so busy practicing her speech that she was able to endure the passing time. Still, the waiting was horrible. Her stomach was in knots and every dark head that appeared on the street made her heart skip. Finally, the prettiest dark head appeared, but it was accompanied by another woman.

If she’s dating someone already I’m going to throw myself into that canal.
Rather than see something that would truly make her want to end it all, she got to her feet and strode across the street. Kaatje turned and met her gaze when they were about twenty feet away. “Laurie!” she said with a remarkably heavy Dutch accent. She looked at the woman she was walking with and said a few quick sentences in Dutch. Without being introduced, the woman smiled and waved at Laurie, hugged Kaatje and took off. Laurie didn’t even turn to see where she went. She just took a sheet of paper from her jacket pocket and presented it.

Kaatje took it from her tentatively, and read it, a smile starting to form on her lips. “Your resignation,” she said, as if in awe.

“That’s a copy. I sent the original from Schiphol,” she said, smiling. “I wanted to make it clear how serious I was. I thought sending it from another continent would make a statement.”

“Are you…” She looked around. “Staying here or did you just deliver this…” She looked adorably confused.

“My suitcases are over there.”

Kaatje looked across the street. “Three bags?”

“I’m going to need a lot of stuff if we’re staying for a while. It gets cold here, you know.”

Kaatje dove for her. She held her so tightly that all either of them could do was make soft grunts of pain. “Come inside. We have a lot to talk about.” Kaatje dashed across the street and grappled with the bags, with Laurie taking the heaviest one from her. “It’s a long walk up those stairs. I’ve got to get in practice.”

They made it up the three flights, with Laurie having to stop and remove her jacket after the first. When they got inside Kaatje just stood there, looking expectant. No kiss, and not a word.

Laurie reached out and removed Kaatje’s jacket, then took her hand and walked over to a pair of chairs that allowed a view of the city. They sat, with neither speaking for a few moments, as Laurie tried to make her brain follow the script she’d been rehearsing.

“Here’s the whole thing,” she began, knowing that wasn’t the right opening. “I knew that if I lived on the boat and didn’t have my own thing, I’d start to resent you.”

Nodding, Kaatje said, “That’s what my mother said.”

“She’s right. Eventually I would have started to pick on you and we’d fight. And eventually you’d kick me off the boat.”

“I’d never do that,” Kaatje said solemnly. “Once we made a commitment to each other, we’d find a way around our problems.”

“But it’s better to make sure you don’t have any big ones right at the start, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “Of course. Much better.” As they spoke her Dutch accent faded and she started to sound more like herself.

“I knew I had to figure out a way to get my work needs met, and I’ve spent a lot of time figuring out what those needs are.”

“Did you spend more time than you did on figuring out you were a lesbian? “That adorable half grin would have weakened her knees if she’d been standing.

“Yes, as a matter of fact. Three whole days. But even when I had the facts in front of me, I couldn’t put things together.”

“What did you learn? I need to know.”

“It’s simple. I’m a striver. I’ve got to have something to fix. Something to work at. I have to keep my mind busy, and I’ve got to be in charge.”

“Then how can you leave your job? I’m certain there isn’t a job anywhere on St. Maarten that will be as challenging as what you had.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. Jobs aren’t more challenging as you go up. There’s just more pressure. You get more money and prestige, and you have more to lose. You think about your salary and your bonus and your stock options and you realize how hard it is to find another job that will reward you like that if you lose the one you’re in.”

“Then how can you leave?”

“I realized that it isn’t the title and the money that compel me. It’s the actual job. The things I like best are troubleshooting and running things properly. I really need to be in charge, and I’m going to finally make that happen. I’m buying a small hotel not far from Simpson Bay.”

“A hotel…” Kaatje looked dumbfounded.

“Yes. I’ve learned a lot about hotel management, and what I’ve learned can be perfectly put to use on a small scale. And having it be small scale will let me…and us…have a life.”

“But what if…how did…Simpson Bay?”

“Well, this deal might not work out. I called your father a couple of days ago and asked him if he knew of any place that was small and in trouble. He told me about the Cupecoy Cove—”

“That place?” Kaatje made a face.

“Yep. Thirty rooms. It’s a two star hotel now. My goal would be to make it twenty big rooms and get a five star rating Your dad says it’s in bad shape, and the owners are barely making it. But it’s on the ocean, which is worth a lot, and it’s not ancient. Your dad thinks the owners would take a rock-bottom price to walk away.”

“My father,” she said, as if the word had just then reached her brain.

“Yes,” she said, laughing at her vacant expression. “When I figured out that running a hotel would be perfect for me, I called him immediately. His bank holds the loan, and he’s on the job now, trying to feel them out.”

“I can’t believe you called my dad.”

“And then I called your mom.”

“My mother?” It looked as though her eyes would pop out.

“Yep. I wanted to make sure you hadn’t started dating anyone.” Kaatje paled. “She assured me you were a long way from dating.”

Her eyes darkened. “I’m not sure I ever would have.”

Needing desperately to take that sad look from her eyes, Laurie fished in her pocket and removed a bracelet-sized bunch of braided silver strands. “If you’ll marry me, I’ll be your date ’til death do us part.” She slipped the bracelet onto Kaatje’s left wrist.

“It’s…what is it?” she asked, holding it up to the window. “It looks like a part of the rigging on my boat.”

“It is.” Laurie snugged it up and showed how it should look. “We’ll have them soldered on us. They’re just like the stays on your boat.” She’d waited too long already. She had to kiss the wonder-filled face that glowed from the late morning light. They slid from their chairs, winding up kneeling on the floor, holding each other tightly.

“I love you,” Kaatje whispered.

Laurie kissed her gently. “And I love you. Will you marry me?”

Kaatje looked at the bracelet, smiling so brightly her grin competed with the fall sun. “Maybe. I have more questions before I can decide. Let’s go for a sail.”

*

It took a while to arrange to get the keys for Kaatje’s brother’s boat, but by early afternoon they were cruising along the canals of Amsterdam. Kaatje steered, and Laurie cuddled up against her, feeling that even an extra inch was too much distance between them.

“This is something that dawned on me during the flight over here,” Laurie said. “I love
The Flying Dutchwoman,
but I want to have a house. I need the space and I desperately need a faster Internet connection.” She batted her eyes at Kaatje. “Can you give in and live on land?”

Kaatje spared a long gaze. “I know this sounds silly, but that will be hard for me. I’m much happier on water than land.”

“I knew you liked living on the boat…”

“It’s more than a preference, but I’ll give it up for you. But I don’t think there’s any way I can pay for half of a mortgage.”

“We’ll argue about money later, but I assume I can buy a house for what I sell my condo for. It’s already on the market,” she added, smiling slyly.

“It is? What if I didn’t say ‘yes?’ What would you do then?”

“Nothing different. I realized that I love St. Maarten as well as you and the boat. I’m going to buy a little hotel even if you won’t marry me. But I hope you know I’ll never give up chasing you.”

“You don’t have to chase me,” Kaatje said, tears forming in her eyes. “You know how much I love you, but how can I be sure this will work for you? I couldn’t stand it if we married and you got as involved in a little hotel as you did with Luxor.”

“That will be my challenge,” Laurie admitted. “I don’t mean to brag, but I’ve never failed at anything I put my whole heart into. And my whole heart is devoted to you.” They kissed, their lips pressed against each other until an insistent horn made Kaatje steer away from a passing boat.

“Maybe we’d better kiss back at the apartment,” she said, waving guiltily at the annoyed sailor.

“We can kiss for years and years and—”

“I need more assurances,” Kaatje said. “This is a very big part of your personality. The excitement will fade, and then we’re going to have to be sure we can live together. And I need
time
with you. Not excuses about the laundry not having the sheets ready for the next guest.”

Nodding, Laurie said, “I’ve thought about it endlessly, and here’s why I think this will be easier. I won’t have to do status reports. That would save me hours—literally hours a day. No meetings unless I call them.” She made a contented purring sound in the back of her throat. “You have no idea how delicious an idea that is. I’m the queen of the brief meeting. When we were really down to it in Osaka, I had meetings in my office, after having the chairs taken out. People really get down to business when they have to stand.” She grinned, thinking of her own ingenuity.