Synopsis: Peter went gone to California to look at Dancing Lady. Favorably impressed, he took an option on the boat and arranged for a formal survey.
Chapter Seven
Kenny had not yet returned from his Saturday night out when Marge and Peter left the house on a bright Sunday morning to meet the Schaefers at the marina. Peter was becoming very concerned about the boy's 18 year-old tendency to stray and apparent lack of self-discipline. He silently but fervently hoped Marge was protecting herself adequately.
He had given her a detailed account of his trip to San Francisco, and a thumbnail sketch of Dancing Lady. The part of his recitation that seemed most appealing to her was his description of the boat's stability when he had first stepped aboard. He was fairly sure that Marge would like the boat because Dancing Lady was much bigger than Love Boat and heavy enough to shoulder through the small chop on the Sound that often caused Love Boat to pitch and Marge's knuckles to whiten.
The Schaefers were already at the marina, and were sitting in Love Boat's cockpit watching the seagulls argue over scraps of garbage in the water. It was a perfect day for a sail; light cirrus clouds looking like wisps of cotton hung high over the Olympics, contrasting with the deep blue sky overhead.
Gordon had acquired a broad brimmed canvas sailor hat that he wore with one side rolled up, giving him the rakish appearance of an Aussie soldier. Anne wore the straw she had worn on their first outing. Both wore baggy shorts and sweat shirts. Anne's beautifully long, slender legs contrasted almost obscenely with her scruffy clothes.
Gordon helped Peter carry the beer and ice to the boat. They quickly cast off, and motored clear of the breakwater.
"Why don't you guys play captain for the day?" Peter said. "You can watch me sail for the next fifty years and you'll never learn how; but when you learn to handle this boat, Dancing Lady will be a cinch."
Gordon glanced at Anne, who grinned and said, "That sounds like fun. Move over, passenger!" She bent slightly forward and deliberately backed into Peter, rubbing her shapely rump against his groin.
Peter responded by gently rubbing and patting her bottom. Marge watched them, then turned to Gordon. "Two can play at that game, lover." She took his hand and placed it on her bottom. Then she kissed him lightly on the mouth. "You've got sailor work to do, man! Quit fooling around with us harbor doxies!" She pretended to slap at him, with one hand while her other hand groped the front of his shorts.
"We ought to take our act out of town, guys," Peter said quietly. "We're right in the middle of the fairway, and anyone passing us can see what's going on."
Gordon nodded, and quickly went forward to set the sails, while Peter sat back, enjoying the unaccustomed luxury of watching someone else get the boat under way.
"Where we going?" Peter asked Gordon when he returned to the cockpit.
"I don't know," Gordon said sheepishly. "I hadn't thought about it."
"When you're just farting around, what's the first thing you do?" Peter prodded him.
"Check the wind?"
"That's as good a start as any." Peter replied.
Gordon looked up at the masthead. "The wind is easterly," he said.
"Right," Peter said.
"Let's go where we were last week," Gordon added.
"Sounds good to me," Peter replied, settling down to watch the Elliot Bay traffic once again. "You ladies up for another trip to Port Blakely?" Marge and Anne nodded their enthusiastic agreement. Giggling like school girls, they ducked below.
Peter quickly told Gordon what he had found in Sausalito, adding that he had taken a 60-day option on the boat. He also told Gordon he had arranged for a marine survey, and explained what that would cost. Gordon nodded approvingly.
Peter continued, "As your operating partner, it would be a help to know what your budgets are. As you can see, I've already spent and committed several thousand dollars on this deal."
"Yes, I know," Gordon said thoughtfully. "And if you have a statement prepared, give it to me when we get back, and I'll write a check. As for the budget, we need to discuss this further. Is there any chance we could do that at your place this evening?"
Secretly, Peter heaved a sigh of relief. He had been concerned about the money, although he had been careful to conceal his worries from Marge. The little he knew of the Schaefer mΓ©nage had not given him great confidence in its stability, and he had been painfully aware that temporarily, at least, he was financing the boat deal. This was a worry because the Baylis cash reserves were perilously slim. Timmy's college expenses were hitting them hard, and a property tax installment would be due in six weeks.
"We sure can, Gordon," Peter said enthusiastically. "It's still not too late to back out if you or Anne have any reservations whatsoever. All we're out so far is my trip to San Francisco and the option fee."
Gordon's face clouded briefly. "Speaking of San Francisco, how are we going to bring her to Seattle?"
Peter spread his hands. "Well," he said, smiling disparagingly, "of course I have to consider my budding political career, such as it is, but actually," he added quickly, "I had imagined that you and I might be the delivery crew. Of course, if worse came to worse, you could always hire one, but that's a worse case scenario, and I don't think it'll come to that."
Gordon looked glumly at the cockpit sole as if he were suddenly depressed by the apparent complexities that new boat owners face. Obviously, he needed cheering. "Tell you what," Peter added, "why don't you let me take the tiller for a while? As our skipper, you really ought to go below and see what those bad girls are doing."
Gordon flashed a grateful grin at Peter and began pulling his sweatshirt off as he disappeared through the companionway hatch. Peter settled down to what he knew would be a very long sail across the sound.