Free Deceived by Laura S. Wharton

else?” He pointed to her plate.
    “No, this is…yum! I didn’t know you could cook like this. Is there more hot water for tea?”
    “Sure; help yourself.” Sam watched Jenny as she poured more hot water into her cup and dumped a heap of honey in. “Like a little tea with your honey?” he ribbed her.
    “A little,” she smiled, and returned to the table. “So you don’t think I should put the boat on the market, do you Sam?”
    “It’s up to you, Jen. I don’t know what your situation is; I only know that it’s a big decision that maybe you better wait on for a few months. Maybe see if you can enjoy it this summer, you know. It might help you get your mind off of…things. Has Chuck’s wife called you? She said she might be able to help get some of your work shown to a larger audience at her gallery.”
    “No, but I don’t think that’s such a good idea now. I am just kinda fumbling around. I’ve been to her gallery, and frankly, it’s filled with some high-end stuff. I don’t know if my work is good enough for that place.”
    “I think you should let Lisa be the judge of that,” Sam offered between bites. “She knows what her clients like. Besides, the way she talks, she could sell ice to Eskimos during the middle of a snowstorm!”
    Jenny blew a little of her tea out of her mouth as she stifled a laugh. “You think Eskimos would like beach scenes?”
    Sam smiled, then reached for the pan of potatoes. He offered the last bit to Jenny, but she declined.
    “I can’t finish what I have! It’s great, though. I feel much better. I haven’t eaten much since….” Her voice trailed off, and she stared vacantly out the hatch at the underside of the bimini. “Thanks, Sam. Umm, would you mind if I borrowed your sweatshirt for the day?” She rose from the dinette, clearing her plate and cup off the table and placing them into the deep sink. She started to wash them, but Sam chased her off the task.
    “No problem, Jen. Don’t worry about the dishes. I’ll get it later. Here; let me get you the key to your boat. I checked on it and everything looks good. You shouldn’t have any problems if you decide to go out today.” He fished around in a plastic basket he kept on the shelf just over the port-side settee filled with coins and keys. He pulled out the single key to Stormy Monday . “I’ll walk with you.”
    They walked down the dock a few slips to Stormy Monday , which tugged gently at her dock lines. A few people were already on the water, and still more were arriving at the dock for a day of projects or boating. Sam felt a tinge of envy. Living on a boat made it hard to go sailing frequently. Everything had to be stowed before he could pull away from the dock, and Sam wasn’t sure he had a proper place for everything. Someday , he kept promising himself.
    Stormy Monday was ready to sail, and after a bit of encouragement, Jenny stepped aboard alone. Sitting in the cockpit, Jenny slowly touched the steering wheel, gripping it tightly as if it might jettison away from her any minute. After a while, she moved around and opened the hatch boards, carefully placing them in a cloth sleeve mounted to the aft starboard bulkhead. Lee had made it so the boards wouldn’t fly free below if the boat hit a wave wrong.
    While Sam waited on the dock, Jenny went below to check the engine’s oil and water. Once again in the cockpit, she started the engine and looked over the aft lines to see water pumping out. Everything checked out the way it should. She moved to the forward v-berth and got the cockpit cushions out, calling to Sam to help her.
    “Sam, I think I might take her out. Would you mind helping to get her ready?”
    “Not at all.” He ran back to his boat’s water hookup and unfastened the hose. He dragged it to Stormy Monday , and once it was hooked up there, he climbed aboard, pulling the hose with him to fill up a water tank.
    Next, he helped Jenny place the cushions about the cockpit, and he