life had been turned around in such a short space of time. It all pointed back to the morning he pulled Christy half dead from the sea. He gave an involuntary shudder as he thought what could have been. If he had been just thirty seconds later in walking along that stretch of footpath he wouldn’t have spotted her. If he had been on time but looking in a different direction he would have missed her, if she had been submerged at the moment his eyes roved over the spot she was in difficulty he would have missed her. She would have died on that late winter morning and he wouldn’t have been any the wiser. The name Christy lane would have meant nothing to him, but because he was there at that crucial moment the name Christy Lane meant everything.
It somehow seemed wrong to be this happy. It was almost as if he should be feeling guilty for it. She was like a drug to him. The more of her he got the more of her he wanted. He would happily live forever if this was how he would feel every day.
Yes, it was as if everything had suddenly dropped into his lap all at once. A house of his own, a mortgage free boat, and the most beautiful wife a man could ever dare dream for.
Changing down a gear he gave some thought to his future as the car ground its way to the top of the winding hill. A few years making a good living on the boat and he would have saved up enough money to take Christy on an overseas trip. He wasn’t sure where yet, but anywhere she wanted to go would be okay by him, just as long as he was with her. Provided the cancer didn’t come back of course. There was always that possibility. She had inexplicably been in remission for the past few months but he didn’t think about what he would do if the cancer cells started showing up in her blood tests again. Life without her would be inconceivable, and even though he wasn’t normally a man to succumb to fear, where she was concerned he definitely felt his pulse quicken when thoughts of her dying crept into his head.
The car crested the hill and began its descent to the marina. Blue skies and even bluer water beckoned to him at the bottom. It was going to be a glorious day out there on the water.
Pulling into the parking lot he drifted into his usual spot and killed the engine. His clients were already waiting he could see four men clustered together on the jetty chatting amiably amongst themselves. “They must be keen,” he muttered to himself as he locked the car door, “they’re half an hour early.”
He made his way over to the group. “Good morning, Gentlemen,” he said warmly. “I’m Kent London, your skipper for the day.”
A tall distinguished man in his fifties stepped forward and shook Kent’s hand. “I’m Don,” he said, in his thick American accent. “This is Ted; the good-looking fellow over there is Simon…”
Simon grasped Kent’s hand tightly. “I might be the good-looking one but he’s the one who gets all the women. He’s got the gift of the gab, which sadly, I don’t.” He grinned broadly. “By the way, the fellow behind me is Rich he’s the quiet one of the group.”
Rich nodded in Kent’s direction.
Kent scanned the little group. “I take it by your accents that you’re all from the United States?”
“New York,” Simon said, “although Ted’s originally from Dallas.”
“I hope you’re all ready for the time of your lives,” Kent said enthusiastically, “because from the reports I’ve been getting over the past few days the fish are practically jumping into the boat.”
“That’s what we like to hear,” Don said, a hint of excitement taking charge of his vocal chords. “So lead the way, Pal.”
As the boat slipped out into the bay the four American’s talked excitedly amongst themselves while Kent concentrated on navigating through the flotilla of boats in the marina. A whoop of joy went up when Kent was in the clear and gave the Bonnie Lass full throttle.
He thought he might give them a little fishing
It somehow seemed wrong to be this happy. It was almost as if he should be feeling guilty for it. She was like a drug to him. The more of her he got the more of her he wanted. He would happily live forever if this was how he would feel every day.
Yes, it was as if everything had suddenly dropped into his lap all at once. A house of his own, a mortgage free boat, and the most beautiful wife a man could ever dare dream for.
Changing down a gear he gave some thought to his future as the car ground its way to the top of the winding hill. A few years making a good living on the boat and he would have saved up enough money to take Christy on an overseas trip. He wasn’t sure where yet, but anywhere she wanted to go would be okay by him, just as long as he was with her. Provided the cancer didn’t come back of course. There was always that possibility. She had inexplicably been in remission for the past few months but he didn’t think about what he would do if the cancer cells started showing up in her blood tests again. Life without her would be inconceivable, and even though he wasn’t normally a man to succumb to fear, where she was concerned he definitely felt his pulse quicken when thoughts of her dying crept into his head.
The car crested the hill and began its descent to the marina. Blue skies and even bluer water beckoned to him at the bottom. It was going to be a glorious day out there on the water.
Pulling into the parking lot he drifted into his usual spot and killed the engine. His clients were already waiting he could see four men clustered together on the jetty chatting amiably amongst themselves. “They must be keen,” he muttered to himself as he locked the car door, “they’re half an hour early.”
He made his way over to the group. “Good morning, Gentlemen,” he said warmly. “I’m Kent London, your skipper for the day.”
A tall distinguished man in his fifties stepped forward and shook Kent’s hand. “I’m Don,” he said, in his thick American accent. “This is Ted; the good-looking fellow over there is Simon…”
Simon grasped Kent’s hand tightly. “I might be the good-looking one but he’s the one who gets all the women. He’s got the gift of the gab, which sadly, I don’t.” He grinned broadly. “By the way, the fellow behind me is Rich he’s the quiet one of the group.”
Rich nodded in Kent’s direction.
Kent scanned the little group. “I take it by your accents that you’re all from the United States?”
“New York,” Simon said, “although Ted’s originally from Dallas.”
“I hope you’re all ready for the time of your lives,” Kent said enthusiastically, “because from the reports I’ve been getting over the past few days the fish are practically jumping into the boat.”
“That’s what we like to hear,” Don said, a hint of excitement taking charge of his vocal chords. “So lead the way, Pal.”
As the boat slipped out into the bay the four American’s talked excitedly amongst themselves while Kent concentrated on navigating through the flotilla of boats in the marina. A whoop of joy went up when Kent was in the clear and gave the Bonnie Lass full throttle.
He thought he might give them a little fishing
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