Free Just Add Water (1) by Jinx Schwartz Page A

tattooed on his bony butt.
    “I’m thinking we’ll like it here,”
I breathed. “Do you allow dogs?”
    “They’re mandatory.”
     
    * * *
     
    RJlooked mighty nautical in his new red, white, and blue doggy life
jacket and rum-keg collar. I had tried a black patch over one eye, but he kept
shaking it off. When we were introduced to Frank, the owner of the boat I was
to crew on for the evening’s beer can races, he scratched RJ’s ears and fondled
the rum keg. “Welcome aboard, mates. Can this pooch handle a winch? It looks a
might blustery out there, and we’ll need all paws at the ready.”
    “I can leave him in the car if you
want me to. If you think he might get in the way.” After the Dilly thing, I was
all too willing to please.
    “Naw. I have a nice bunk that’ll
fit this salt just fine if he gets bored with the race. Although it should be
exciting with a breeze like the one we’ve got tonight. I’m surprised they
haven’t canceled. Now, what position do you feel comfortable handling?”
    Remembering attack winches,
flailing booms, billowing sails that threatened to put one over the side, and
heaving decks, I said, “Bartender?”
     
    * * *
     
    “Wasn’t that a blast? My boat won!”
a breathless, pink-cheeked Jan asked when we met at the yacht club bar after
the race.
    “Jan, my boat T-boned another one and we were disqualified.” My cheeks
were red, too. With mortification.
    “Oh, dear me. How did it happen?”
    “Don't ask.”
    “Cheer up, sailor, there’s men
about,” she whispered, nodding down the bar. “Oh, look, there’s Lars and Bob.
The ones we met in Berkeley? Remember? You gave Lars my card and he called me.
We never did get together for lunch.”
    “Who? Oh, them. What? No girl
children with them?”
    “Be nice. And no, they seem to be
alone. They see us. Smile.”
    Lars beckoned us to the other
end of the bar where the slap of leather cups on mahogany announced a round of
Liar’s Dice. More interested in Jan than dice, Lars bowed out, leaving his
brother, Bob, and eight others to the game.
    “So, did you two enjoy the
race?” Lars asked. Tall and portly, dressed in a white anorak and white pants,
he resembled a friendly, handsome, polar bear.
    “I did,” Jan breathed. “Hetta’s
boat porterhoused another.”
    “T-Boned,” Bob interjected, taking
his eyes from his dice long enough to glare at me. “And it was my boat. Wasn’t
that you driving? You and the hairy guy with the red, white and blue jacket?”
    “Uh, yes. We’ve got to quit meeting
this way.”
    Bob continued to look at me for a
few seconds while my cheeks flamed redder. A hint of a grin passed his lips
before he turned back to his game.
    Lars shrugged. “My brother hates
getting hit. Let’s go get a table.”
    I glared at the back of Bob’s
graying, blonde head and his leather bomber jacket. I had noticed, when he’d
turned to glower at me, a patch over his heart that read, Robert “Jenks”
Jenkins, USN Ret.
    “You two go
ahead,” I said, signaling Paul for a split of courage. I sipped stars while
studying my prey.
    Now, don't get
me wrong, I know I’m no great beauty, but I have been known to attract a man or
two in my day. And I certainly wasn’t used to being snubbed by them. The
challenge was set.
    Painting a
sincere look onto my face I sidled up to Robert “Jenks” Jenkins, United States
Navy, Ret. “I’m really sorry about hitting your boat. I couldn’t see because of
all those sails.”
    Bob nodded,
looking straight ahead, not at me. “Ten fives,” he said. He was called up by
his neighbor and threw out a die with a snort of disgust.
    I tried again.
“Jan and I recently joined the club. Don’t you find it ironic we should meet
again so soon?”
    “I guess.” Bob
pounded the bar with his leather cup and peeked under it at his dice. “Eight
sixes.”
    “Well, it was
real nice seeing you again,” I said sweetly. “Oh, by the way, does the ‘Ret’ on
your jacket stand