5 comments/ 12425 views/ 3 favorites Captain's Choice Ch. 09-10 By: coaster2 This story was edited by ErikThread and DaveT with my thanks and appreciation. Any errors are mine alone. Previously posted on another site. Captain's Choice Chapter 9 What next? The shock was enormous. I was speechless and stood there, bewildered by what she had said. My mother? Was that even possible? I was frozen in place for the moment and it wasn't until I felt Ardele come up behind me and put her hands on my shoulders that I regained some kind of balance. "Please come in," Ardele said softly to the woman. I managed to step aside and make room for her to pass by me. Ardele led her to the sofa and indicated for her to sit. I turned to look at her, trying mightily to dredge some memory of my mother from the past. I couldn't find anything at that moment. My mind was in turmoil and I was still speechless. I walked robotically to my easy chair and sat, gaping at the woman, trying desperately to think of something to say. The only thing I could determine was that she was very nervous and unsure of herself. I wasn't any better off. "It's been a long time," I finally mumbled. "Almost eighteen years," she said, finding it difficult to look me in the eye. "Why?" It was the only question that seemed to matter to me. "I'm ashamed to tell you, Patrick. I'm ashamed of myself and what I did to you and your father. I did a horrible thing and then I ran away. It was the only thing I could think of to do." "Dad told me you had an affair." I was beginning to gather my wits about me. She was shaking her head. "No, not an affair. Something worse. A tawdry, sleazy one-night-stand with a stranger. I still get sick to my stomach when I think about it." "How?" She sighed deeply. "I don't have an excuse, Patrick. I can tell you what I did, but it isn't an excuse." "Go ahead." "Your father had been working hard to get the business up and running. He was working long hours and not at home very much. I was getting frustrated with it and with him. I knew it was important, but I was selfish and wanted him to spend more time with me ... and you." "I remember that much," I said. "You were arguing about it quite a lot." She nodded. "One night, I got a babysitter for you and went out just to have a break. I thought I was entitled to it. I went to a bar and had a few drinks. More than I should have. I let myself get picked up by a man I had only met a few minutes earlier. I went to his motel with him and ... I had sex with him. "I knew it was wrong and the next morning I felt horrible. I had cheated on your father and he didn't deserve that. I could barely stand to look at myself in the mirror. I felt that way for days before it began to wear off and I put the incident in the past as a bad memory. Something I would never do again. "Six weeks later, I discovered I was pregnant. I knew it was that man's and not your father's baby. I knew I couldn't deceive your father and have him raise another man's child. I did the only thing I could think of. I ran. I left a note telling your father that I had cheated on him with another man and I couldn't live with myself any longer and took off." "So ... I have a half-brother or sister somewhere?" I asked. Again, she was shaking her head slowly. "I lost the child in the second trimester. A miscarriage. I was almost grateful it happened except that it had ended a new life. I was staying with an old school friend in Calgary who had taken me in. She was a life-saver. I was borderline suicidal for a while. Eventually, I got a job at a women's clothing store in a mall and that led to getting an apartment for myself." "I threw myself into the job and that helped fill the days. After a while, I was promoted to assistant manager, then I was made manager at a new store in a new mall. Eventually, I was noticed and offered a position at head office in Toronto. That's where I've been for the last ten years." "Have you remarried?" I wondered. I didn't see any rings on her fingers. "No. I haven't even had a date since I left your father." "Who do you work for?" I asked. "Estelle Cartier. It's an upscale women's wear chain with stores across the country in the best malls." "What do you do there? In Toronto, I mean." "I became the head buyer after serving with the previous buyer for four years. But I'm retired now?" "Retired? But you're only ... fifty, aren't you?" "Fifty-two last month. Our company was bought by an American firm a few months ago. They decided that their buyers in New York were capable of looking after the Canadian stores and I was given a golden handshake. I had stock options and I hadn't spent very much money at all over the years. I'm very secure, financially." "I should introduce myself," Ardele finally spoke. "I'm sorry, Del, I wasn't thinking. I apologize. Mother, this is Ardele Quinton, my fiancée. Ardele, my mother, Sarah ... uhhm." "Sarah Seaton, Ardele. Seaton is my maiden name. And I'm delighted to meet you. Patrick has chosen very well. You are a very beautiful woman." "Thank you," Ardele answered shyly. "And what do you do for a living, Patrick?" Mother asked. "I ... we ... have a charter boat business. We take people on cruises and fishing trips and nature explorations, mostly during the summer months." "How in the world did you get into that?" she asked, clearly surprised. "Do you remember Father's boat?" "Of course. We spent many a happy day on that boat before ... before I left." "Did you know Father had died?" I asked, unsure just what she did know. "Yes, I was at his funeral." My head snapped up. "You were? Why didn't you see me? Why didn't you talk to me?" I was beginning to get angry now. "I couldn't make things any worse, Patrick. You were grieving and my showing up would just make you more miserable. You had gotten along without me for thirteen years. I couldn't do that to you." "How do you know that?" I spat. "How could you know how I would react? I had no father. I had no one. No mother, no father, no grandparents, no uncles or aunts. I had no one!" I almost shouted, tears now flowing freely. "I'm sorry, my son, I'm so sorry. Everything I did was wrong, wasn't it. Right from the start, everything I did was wrong," she wailed, her face in her hands, her head bent. Ardele put her arm around my mother and held her. I watched as she did that and I felt my anger releasing. There was no point in making her feel any worse than she already did. She wasn't putting on an act. I could see she was remorseful. I sat in my chair as Ardele comforted my mother, a myriad of thoughts going through my mind. How did I really feel about all this? Should I let bygones be bygones? Should I ask her to leave and never return? That didn't feel right, but I couldn't tell what did. What was I to do about this unexpected surprise? "When are you going back to Toronto?" I asked. "I'm going to be here for a couple of weeks, looking for a place to live. I'm not staying in Toronto. I've got my condominium up for sale and I plan to return to the west coast." "There's something you should know," I said looking at Ardele. "You're going to be a grandmother next year." "Oh, Patrick, Ardele, that's so wonderful," she said, tears appearing once again. "I never thought I'd see the day. I'm so happy for you both." "Thank you," Ardele said with a comforting smile. "There's also going to be a wedding reception in January." It was hard to get out, but I asked, "Will you be able to come?" "Of course. Thank you so much for allowing me. I wouldn't miss it for the world." "You may see one or two old acquaintances," I suggested. "Both Joel and Kerry said they would be there." "Are you still partners with Kerry?" she asked. "No. I made an agreement with him to buy out Dad's share. Joel is still handling my investments." "It will be good to see them again. I hope they won't be upset with my presence." "I can probably head that off by calling them and letting them know about your being there." "You'd do that?" She seemed surprised. I sighed, running my hands over my face. "I don't hate you, Mother ... not any more. Maybe when it happened and Dad and I were alone, but we made it okay. This is so sudden, so I'm not sure how to express myself. Ardele and I are going to have our own family. Our children are going to want to know why they don't have four grandparents. Ardele's father is dead as well, so there's only her mother and you. I wouldn't deny you your grandchildren." "Do you think there's a chance we can learn to be mother and son again?" "I don't know, I really don't know," I said. "I'll try." That brought about another session of waterworks from her and I could see tears on Ardele's cheeks as well. My mother got up and came to me, knelt down and put her arms around me. "Thank you, Patrick. I know I don't deserve it ... but thank you." It felt strange to be in her arms again. I could vaguely remember her holding me when I was young, but it was only a fleeting memory. I did feel some comfort with the gesture. I wondered if we could find our way back to being a family. "I can't get over how this city has grown," my mother commented as we toured the west end. "Everywhere I look there's a new high-rise or office building. I'm not sure I want to live in this area. It's just like Toronto. I want some open space and maybe a view." "Do you have a car, Mom?" I asked. "Yes, but I seldom drive it. I'll probably sell it before I move back." "You'll need one here. Our public transportation is primitive compared to what you're used to. You might look in North or West Vancouver. There are some nice townhouses up on the mountainside. Would you like to look there?" "Yes ... let's do that. My realty person tells me there's a bidding war on for my apartment, so I'm going to be able to afford a nice place here." "I'm sure you can. The market's soft right now, so it's a good time to buy." We had been touring around, looking at possible places for my mother to live. At first I thought she wanted an apartment style condominium, but listening to her, I got the impression a townhouse might suit her better. "Have you found a real estate agent yet?" I asked. "No. I did talk to a couple, but they suggested I decide on a general location first, then look for an agent." "Yeah, I suppose that makes sense." "Where is Ardele this morning?" she asked. "She's at the doctor's office, getting a checkup." "Smart girl." "Yes, she is. Very smart," I smiled, more to myself. I had traded in my somewhat battered old pickup on a new Toyota RAV4. It was much more practical for our business and I had the company name and logo on the front doors. Three interlocking Cs for Captain's Choice Charters. It was too late to change the name now. I had now come to terms with my mother's unexpected return. Ardele had made it plain that she thought I was doing the right thing and that she was very proud of me for being so forgiving. I wasn't so sure about the forgiveness, but we had started toward reconciliation at least. "What happened to your father's boat, Patrick?" "It was stolen last summer. The guys who took it made a bad mistake and a propane explosion destroyed the boat, killing two of the thieves. They were two of five men who had chartered the boat two weeks earlier and to be honest, we thought they were crooks right from the beginning. After they left, I let the RCMP know about them, but the last thing I expected was for them to return and steal the boat. It's still an unsolved crime with no known motive." "Perhaps one of them hid something on the boat," my mother said idly. "I thought of that. That might explain why they took it, but why hide it there?" "Someplace no one would think to look for it. Then, when they stole the boat, they could retrieve it." "But, they could do that by just breaking into the boat at night and taking what was left behind. Why take the whole boat?" "What if they didn't know exactly where whatever it was they were looking was hidden?" "Maybe," I pondered. "So if two of the crooks knew something was hidden and wanted it for themselves but didn't know where to look for it, they steal the boat to give themselves the time to find whatever it is. That would account for why only two of them were on board. The other three guys weren't involved." "No honour among thieves?" she said. "Could be. Well, I haven't talked to the RCMP in a while. Maybe I'll give their CID people a call." "That was a pretty old boat, was it insured?" "Yeah, I restored it and it qualified as a heritage collector boat, so it was insured for a half-million." "Really? I can't imagine it being worth that." She was exhibiting the shock most people did when that number was mentioned. "Yes, I put a year of my life into it after Dad died. It was something to see. I have some pictures - before, during and after shots in an album at the apartment if you're interested." "Yes, I am. I would like to see it. It would bring back some good memories." We stopped at Lonsdale Quay for lunch, and then did some more exploring of North Vancouver. I got the feeling my mother would be happy if we could find a place suitable for her here. We ended the day back at her residence hotel, promising to see each other again in a day or so. My mother really enjoyed the carol ship parade and our new boat. I had forgotten that she did like boating and had felt quite at home on Captain's Choice. She recognized immediately that I had named the new boat after Ardele. She mingled with the guests and was quite at ease introducing herself to our friends. She remembered Joel Burger, and I was happy that there was no awkwardness between them. My growing acceptance of my mother's return must have been a key factor in that. Mother spent quite a bit of time during the three evenings talking to Tom Thompson. Tom was a few years older than mother, a handsome gentleman and I think the kind of man my mother was comfortable with. She had mingled with a number of wealthy, important people in her former career and wasn't in awe of them. She seemed quite genuine with our friends and Ardele remarked at how easy she was to talk with. She was still a very attractive woman with an engaging smile and pleasant voice. It was strange to have a family Christmas once more. I hadn't enjoyed one in years after Dad died and even then, it was something quite simple between the two of us. Now, with Ardele, mother, and inviting Tom, Joel and his wife Ruth, and Sam and Florence Fowler, we had a crowd for Christmas dinner and it was a wonderful change from the past. Mother and Ardele prepared the meal, a fresh turkey with dressing, mashed potatoes and vegetables, topped with cranberry sauce and homemade gravy. It was a special treat for me. I couldn't remember a better Christmas feast. I spent a little extra to find some good wine for the meal and with a couple of additional bottles gifted by our guests, we had quite a lot of choices. Ardele abstained and that was my cue to announce her pregnancy to our guests. It was met with congratulations along with plenty of wisecracks and good natured ribbing. I noticed my mother drank very little and wondered if that was a carryover from her past. Everyone had arrived by cab, reserved to make sure they were available. They left together at eleven that evening, Tom sharing a cab with my mother. They seemed to be getting along very well and I was fine with that. I had come to the conclusion that she had served her time for her misdeeds and was entitled to some happiness now. Ardele agreed with me. Tom invited us and mother to join him at the yacht club for New Year's Eve. We accepted. We had a lot to celebrate in the New Year. Tom was a past commodore and we were his invited guests since we weren't members. I can remember Tom grumbling about the politics of the club and being glad he was out of it. I could just imagine what turmoil a collection of wealthy and near wealthy members might create. I remembered my father's warning from years ago: never volunteer for anything. Ardele bought a new dress for the occasion and it was only the second time I had seen her in a more formal outfit. The first was her skirt and blouse ensemble at Christmas. The dress was chosen by my mother and I had to agree she had chosen well. My lovely fiancée never looked better. Of course, I was persuaded to get a new suit, since I no longer owned one. I had been getting by with blazer and slacks, but I was informed by both my mother and Ardele that it wasn't good enough for someone of my standing. My standing? I thought briefly of renting a naval officer's costume and going as Captain Queeg, but discarded the idea before even mentioning it. I never saw the bill for Ardele's dress. I guessed it was some serious coin, so I'd better play along with their wishes. I was led to a very well-known tailor shop downtown and told to let them "do their thing," with the two women along to offer their opinion, of course. I ended up with two new suits, one navy blue solid and the other a dark grey with a narrow medium blue subtle pinstripe. I liked the look of both of them, but wondered when and where I would wear them beyond the upcoming party. Despite the short notice, the suits were ready the day before New Year's Eve and with a new shirt, tie and dress shoes, I was declared presentable. Tom had arranged to pick up my mother at her hotel and Ardele and I arranged a cab for the short ride to the yacht club. For a change, the evening was clear with almost a full moon. It was cold for Vancouver, the temperature hovering around freezing. The clear air and the bright light of the moon highlighted the snow on the surrounding mountains. The lift line lighting on the ski slopes, gave it a magical touch. The yacht club was crowded and a band was playing music in the background, barely audible above the noise of the guests. Our seating had been assigned at a table for eight with Tom and my mother. The other four guests must have been off somewhere socializing, since there was evidence they had already arrived. I remembered my father talking about the "rubber chicken circuit" part of the business world, especially when you belonged to an organization. Dad had been a long time member of the Chamber of Commerce, largely because he was a business owner in the community and wanted visibility and contacts, even if it meant participating in some pretty boring gatherings. I was much more fortunate. I had never experienced the phenomenon and, looking around that evening, I got a sense of what Dad had talked about. Tom had taken Mother with him as he sought out various acquaintances and introduced her. I watched her handle herself with self-assurance and realized that she was in her element here. She could schmooze with the best of them. There was also something else about her that I noticed. It was her bearing, her posture. She presented herself with confidence and her posture emphasised it. Was it always so? I couldn't remember. I could, however, understand just how she could deal with the European fashion houses and meet with them as equals. It may have been a façade, but it was a very good one. My mother, it seems, had made herself into a very remarkable woman. Ardele and I sat for a few minutes like bumps on a log, the only two at our table. I was about to suggest we get up and join Tom and my mother when I spotted two familiar faces. They were old college classmates and they looked very little different than when I had last seen them except for the clothes and the fact that they were still sober. I dragged Ardele over to meet them, grateful for at least two familiar faces. "Gentlemen, fancy meeting you here?" I said, not too originally. Captain's Choice Ch. 09-10 "Pat? How are you," Ronnie Kent beamed. "You remember, Digger Phelps." "Yeah, who could forget Digger," I laughed. "Gentlemen, this is my fiancée, Ardele Quinton. These two guys, posing as gentlemen are Ron Kent and Howard Phelps, former classmates and drinking buddies of mine." "Jesus, Pat, where did you find this beautiful woman," Digger said, wide-eyed. "Down boy," a petite blonde at his side said forcefully. "Oh, sorry, dear. This is Pat Hamelin, as you've already heard a former UBC classmate. Pat, this is Gloria, my wife." "Very nice to meet you. Why would you ever marry a reprobate like Digger, Gloria? Surely he must have come with a warning label." That got a general laugh and a light punch in the arm from Mr. Phelps. "This is my wife, Madeline, Pat," Ronnie said, introducing a tall, slim, dark-haired woman. Both my friends had married well if looks were any indication. We had a few minutes to renew old acquaintances before the dinner was announced and we promised to find each other later on for more catch-up. "Thank goodness they're here," I said to Ardele as we headed back to our table. "I thought we were going to spend the evening on our own." "I can't wait to hear stories about you and your college days," she said with a smirk. "Don't believe a word of anything they tell you. It will be all lies, I know for a fact." That brought a laugh as we arrived at our table and seated ourselves. We were introduced to the two couples joining us just as the first serving arrived. The other couples were in their fifties, I guessed, and were friends. They knew Tom, but didn't offer much in the way of conversation other than to ask about our boat. I gave them an outline of our Bertram 54 and that seemed to impress them, but I suspected it was more because of our age than anything else. The meal was a choice between roast beef or salmon. Del chose the salmon while I had the roast beef. It was pretty ordinary, but not bad, an opinion shared by Del. I was looking around the room without luck to see if I could spot the table where Digger and Ronnie were seated. No matter, we would find them eventually. Mother and Tom conversed with the other couple and with us as well between courses. They seemed very comfortable with each other and I wondered if anything might result from it. They made a very nice couple and I thought that Tom seemed quite interested in my mother. I could hardly blame him. By any standard, my mother was a very attractive, confident woman. We found my old classmates and their wives not long after the meal was concluded and the band had returned. Happily, their volume was low enough to permit conversation without having to shout. Their table was closer to the back of the room and thus further from the dance floor. The other two couples at their table had vanished and we took up residence for a while, occasionally dancing and then returning to tell tall tales of our youth. It was fun and no one took advantage of the situation to embarrass any of us. It would have been easy to do, but likely to provoke a response in kind. As the midnight hour approached, we worked our way back to our original table, to find my mother and Tom just leaving the dance floor. We sat for a few minutes, just chatting about my college acquaintances. Then I asked Del to dance, just before the midnight hour. At midnight, I gathered Ardele into my arms and kissed her with a passion that I hoped told her just how much I loved her and wanted her to know that. Her return of my kiss was as heartfelt and ardent as mine and I was secure in the knowledge that I had my life partner. Tom and Mother joined us and when Auld Lang Syne began, we all joined in the singing of the traditional verses. I turned and saw my mother and Tom kiss somewhat more chastely, but the smile on their faces seemed quite a bit more telling. At least, that's how I read it. It wasn't long afterwards that Tom offered us a ride home if we wanted one. I looked at Ardele and she nodded with a smile. We accepted and walked out into the night air, quickly reminding us how cold it was compared to the warm confines of the yacht club. Tom dropped us off at our apartment. I kissed Mother and shook Tom's hand, wishing them both Happy New Year. Ardele did as well, kissing both of them. They drove off together as we hurried into the lobby and out of the cold, night air. It was a new year, and one that I knew would bring me a great deal of happiness and satisfaction. Chapter 10 A Fresh Start To see Tom together with my mother seemed as natural as if my father were still alive and their explosive separation had never happened. But it had happened and that thought was still in the back of my mind. I didn't think for a moment that my mother would ever repeat the mistake she made so many years ago. I had begun to understand that I might be prepared to forgive my mother, something I didn't believe I would ever be able to do. I hadn't expressed these feelings to Ardele, at least not fully. She had encouraged me to let go of the past and accept that my mother was a different person than she was then and that she understood just how deeply she had hurt me and my father. She had punished herself for years over a single act of reckless stupidity and had somehow come to terms with it. Now, Ardele told me, it was my turn to make some emotional changes. Our conversation took place the day before our wedding. We weren't superstitious or traditionalist, so we wouldn't be spending the night apart. We had been talking quietly over lunch at the kitchen table about marriage and the future and children and, of course, what to do about our charter business. "I intend to work right up until the month before I'm due," Ardele said. "That will be the middle of June. After that, I'll be a stay-at-home mom for a while until I decide I can work again. As far as Campbell River, I'll be up there as soon as I can after the baby is born and I'll stay at the motel. You'll hardly miss me," she said with a smile. "I'll miss you if you're gone for a day, much less a couple of weeks," I grumbled. "You'll survive," she chuckled. "You just stay away from the cougars or I'll rearrange your reproductive organ and that will be the end of you making babies." "Are you sure you'll be okay driving up there?" "Of course I will. I'm not some weak-kneed frail little girl that can't take care of herself. Patrick Hamelin, if you have one major fault it's that you're a worrier. You worry about everything. You worry so much that it worries me! This might come as a shock, but women have been having babies for quite a while now and still are able to look after themselves and get around. I plan to have a nice, pleasant summer with our new son or daughter and enjoy the sun and spending some time with my husband, whom I still love in spite of his faults." "Oh ... okay then, if you're sure." I expected she would be fine, knowing how confident and strong she was. I just wanted her to convince me. "I've invited your mother to join us up there too," she said casually. "You have? You didn't mention that." "I just did. She volunteered to look after the baby to give me a break now and then and she also volunteered to be a deck hand once she got to know her way around the boat." "She did?" That was a surprise. "I don't know about that ... the deckhand thing I mean." "Why don't you wait and see. She told me she used to do quite a bit on your Dad's boat when she was out on it. She thinks she can still remember how to handle the lines and fenders and the radio. Maybe you should give her a lesson on the new boat and see how she works out. She'll appreciate the opportunity." "Are you two conspiring behind my back?" I asked, not really upset. "Not any more. You know all about it now," she laughed. "Is our wedding tomorrow going to have the usual stuff about love, honour and obey? Especially, the obey part," I asked, trying to pull off a serious scowl. "In your dreams," she chuckled. "We're a partnership, remember. I'll be an equal as your wife and you'll be a subservient husband." "Figures," I mumbled, knowing full well that she was teasing. Saturday morning dawned dark and rainy. I was hoping this wasn't an omen. I was doing my best to be upbeat and happy. After all, I was marrying the woman I loved and she was carrying our child. How could I not be in the best possible mood? The civil ceremony was scheduled for 11am and Ardele chose the new grey suit for me today. A light blue dress shirt and a very nice silk tie with complementary colours and she was satisfied that I looked good. She had another new dress that she and my mother had chosen, and as I had come to expect, she looked spectacular. It was navy blue and moulded to her body in a way that highlighted her perfect figure. "You look yummy," I grinned evilly. "I could eat you right up." "Later, big boy, later," she said, throwing a tempting look at me. Once again, Tom was our driver and mother was along for the ride. "You look lovely, you two," she said. She looked a little teary-eyed this morning, undoubtedly because her only son was getting married. Del and I were holding hands in the back seat and I was conscious of her grip being quite firm. I had the feeling she was more nervous than she was letting on. Considering this was her second marriage, I thought I would be the nervous one, but it appeared not. Maybe I didn't understand that this was a huge step in my life. I thought I did. I had no doubts, no second thoughts. This was the logical extension of my love for Ardele. Ardele's mother and sister arrived just as we entered the room where the wedding would take place. We had met a week earlier in Osoyoos when we drove up there so that I could formally ask for Audrey Quinton's permission to marry her daughter. She thought that was quite humorous considering Ardele was pregnant and the ceremony and reception were already planned. Nonetheless, I was welcomed into her family and told that I looked a good deal more likely as a husband and a father than her previous choice. The ceremony was quick and efficient and was over before I was really prepared for it to be done. But the result was what mattered. I was now married to Ardele Roberta Quinton Hamelin, the love of my life. I held her in my arms at the end of the ceremony and I kissed her as I would always want to kiss her ... with passion. I turned to my mother and saw tears. She was emotional and I could understand it. I was her only son and it was a big day for us. I went to her and hugged her and kissed her cheek. "Thank you, Mother. Thank you for coming back into my life. Thank you for being here today. Thank you for accepting Ardele as one of our family. I forgive you, Mother. The past is gone and we have a future before us. I am happy that you are in that future for us and our children." I'm not sure what inspired me to say what I did at that particular moment. The result was a torrent of tears from my mother and a hug that displayed a strength I didn't know she had. She held me tightly for some time without letting go. When she finally did, she went to Ardele and embraced her, briefly whispering something to her. Then she excused herself and made for the washroom. Tom looked a little worried but I gave him the thumb and forefinger okay sign and he relaxed. Ardele was a different matter. She now had tears in her eyes and she came to me and held me tightly to her. "You did a wonderful thing," she sobbed. "I am so proud of you. You are a man. How did I ever get so lucky to find you?" "You answered a want ad as I recall," I said glibly. She snorted a laugh, then grabbed me tightly again. "We are going to have a wonderful life, Patrick." "I know you're right, love. I know it." By Saturday, we had recovered from the drama of the post ceremony event and were driving to our reception. Mother had rented one of the mid-sized conference rooms at her hotel and had arranged the catering for it. There would be about fifty people at most. I knew almost every one of them and Ardele knew the rest. Ardele had invited her old boss, Hec Taylor and his wife, along with a couple of her old girlfriends from BCIT. Both her sisters and their families attended and I was surprised how little they had in common with my new wife. They were nothing like Ardele in physical appearance or personality. Del had told me that they had been raised to be the little angels, while she was the designated tomboy, since she failed to turn out to be a boy in the first place. I would never call her sisters stuck up bitches in front of her, but that's what I thought they were. I could hear their muttered complaints. No church ceremony, no bridal gown, no maids of honour, no head table, a couple of toasts but no roasts for the bride and groom, and no live band. What kind of a wedding was this, they grumbled. I chose not to set them straight. I did notice, however, that they seemed fascinated with their younger sister and just how beautiful she looked. Perhaps it was because her older siblings were envious, both carrying thirty or forty extra pounds they didn't need. I got some decidedly odd looks from some of the guests when I explained that I was a charter boat operator and spent my time taking people sightseeing or fishing. Even more odd looks when I explained that Ardele was my first mate and a very skilled deckhand. I think some of them must have had a small outboard in mind when I talked about the boat because when I explained it was over fifty feet long and slept eight, they looked positively startled. Del sidled up to me later on and gave me another of her familiar hip bumps. She could do that anytime she liked as far as I was concerned. "So, what do you think of my sisters?" she asked. Oh Oh! Danger Will Robinson. "Uhhm ... very ... nice," I finally stammered. "You mean very nice for a couple of frumpy housewives?" she asked straight faced. "Or maybe, very nice for a pair of insufferable snobs." I couldn't help it. I nearly snorted my drink out my nose, trying to suppress a laugh and prevent myself from choking at the same time. "Come on, Pat. Pick one," she taunted. I held up three fingers, still unable to talk. "Oh, you have an alternative," she smirked. I finally calmed down to the point where I could speak. "They are definitely two of a kind, Cinderella. But at the rate they are going, they are the ones who are going to turn into a pumpkin." It was Del's turn to nearly spew her wine. When Del laughed, which was fairly often, it was a hearty, deep, throaty laugh. I had come to love it just like I loved her. It was an honest expression that left no doubt that she thought the comment warranted it. It also attracted attention. "I shouldn't be so catty, I suppose," she said, watching her sisters as they stayed together, looking about the room for something to do or someone to do it to. "For a tomboy, you seem to have caught their attention," I said. "I'm guessing they're hoping you'll join their diet club after you've had a couple of kids." "No chance in hell, mister. Not going to happen. I'm going to really piss them off when they see I can still be just like I am now after two or three children." "Oh ... it's possibly three now, is it?" I asked with an arched eyebrow. "We'll see. Depends on how well you handle the first couple," she grinned. "With your guidance, how can I possibly fail?" That got me a nice kiss and a loving smile. I returned it to her, hoping she understood just how lucky I thought I was to have captured her. Del was very fortunate that morning sickness didn't last very long and wasn't very severe. We had a few charters over the late winter and early spring, but generally the business was quiet and happily, we were not pressed for funds. Mother found a nice townhouse in upper Lonsdale in North Vancouver. It was a three bedroom, two storey end unit. I wondered why she needed that much space and she was quick to explain that we would need a place for the children to stay when they were older and we were off working. I also discovered that my mother had a hobby, a serious hobby. She was a photographer. She had three cameras, all of which she said had specific capabilities. One was a gift from her former employer, a Leica portrait camera that she had the skills to take advantage of. She also had a Nikon DSLR with a couple of long lenses as well as a pocket sized Canon. She also had tripods, light stands, reflectors, printing equipment, computer photo editing software and, I discovered, customers. She said she had begun taking pictures of some of the fashions that she saw on her buying trips so that she could remember them when it came to making some decisions. She took several extension courses, got better at her hobby and discovered she got a great deal of enjoyment out of it. The real change came when a senior member of her company saw an exhibition of her work at a downtown mall, recognized the name and looked her up. Would she be interested in doing some pictures of women modelling their dresses for their new catalogue? It escalated from there and she had a self-sustaining hobby. I only discovered this when all her possessions arrived from Toronto and included was a large black reinforced box that had been custom designed to hold most of her equipment in foam cut-outs. She had a powerful home computer with a large, high resolution monitor she used for editing and correcting her shots. She had a very good eye for composition and colour, just as she had a good eye for fashions that suited the mature clients that frequented her company's stores. She had the small Canon in her purse that she used when Del and I were married and at the reception. When I saw the pictures later, I commented on how good they were. These were not just snapshots, but something more. There were two of Del and me that I thought were very good and mother just smiled when I mentioned them. A week later, she presented us with eight-by-ten framed versions of those shots. When I compared them to the originals, I could see that she had cropped them, suppressed the busy background and focussed on the two of us as the objects of interest. "I'd like to get some wildlife and nature shots, Pat. When you are out on your boat, do you see places to go that would give me some opportunities like that?" "Mom, we charter for people who only want to photograph and experience what you're interested in. We aren't just a fishing charter." "Wonderful. I want to charter your boat then," she smiled. "Sorry, no can do. I'm not allowed to charge you for a charter. It's the law," I said with a straight face. "That's crazy. Who thought that law was a good idea?" she said, clearly frustrated. "I did," Ardele quickly answered before I could. "If you want to get your fill of wilderness and wildlife, you've come to the right place." "But ... this is your business. You have to look after it first," mother said with a note of concern. "We always have time between charters," Ardele began. "This summer, when I'm out of commission, we can sign you on as a deckhand and you'll get the real experience. It won't be anything you can't handle, and it will give you a chance to see why we love what we do." I was frozen at that point. My new bride was offering a job to my mother and neither of us had discussed this beforehand. I wasn't upset, more surprised. "That would be excellent," Mother immediately agreed. "I have to tell you though, I'm expensive. I insist on fifty cents an hour pay," she giggled. "Oh, I think we can swing that if we make a few economy moves," Ardele said, chuckling herself. There wasn't anything for me to say. It was all decided and there wasn't much point in my putting up any objections. However, I thought it might be a good idea to give her a test run to see how she adapts to being on the boat. Later that night, I gave Ardele a quiet suggestion on sharing her ideas before popping them out without my knowledge. Captain's Choice Ch. 09-10 "Would you have agreed to do it if I had?" she challenged. "I don't know. But now that the cat is out of the bag, I suggest we run a trial to see how she makes out. We don't want any surprises when we have clients aboard." I got a smile in return and the thought crossed my mind that I had been set up by the two women in my life and had swallowed the bait just as they had planned. Late March weather can be ugly in our part of the world, but luckily, with the help of an accurate forecast, the day we chose was quite nice. The temperature was 15˚ Celsius (59˚F) and with a light breeze at ten knots, the water wasn't rough. I watched mother come aboard, carrying a sizeable camera bag and another bag which might have contained some extra clothes. She didn't exhibit any hesitancy and stood with Ardele as she handled the lines while I warmed up the engines and went over my checklist. It was an idea I had adopted from Jerry McIvor, the pilot who flew us to the site of the sunken Captain's Choice. Treat the boat like an aircraft and check the important details before you go. I motored slowly out of the marina while mother and Del pulled the fenders in and coiled the mooring lines. My mother apparently remembered some of the routine from her previous experience, because she worked quickly and efficiently. Our route was out along the West Vancouver shore, across the mouth of Howe Sound and along the south end of Bowen Island, then past Keats and Paisley Islands before turning north up the west side of Gambier Island and beginning our return between Gambier and Anvil Island south to the West Van shore once more. We were in no rush and with a fair amount of sun, it was a pleasant way to spend the day. Mother spent a lot of time with both my binoculars and her Nikon, taking a number of pictures with a 300mm lens. She would download them almost right away onto her laptop to see what she was getting in detail instead of relying on the small display screen on the camera. I thought she must have deleted at least half of them, if not more. The more time I spent on our Bertram, the happier I was with it. It had a slightly greater beam than the older boat and it felt lighter and more responsive, despite the fact that it was actually heavier. I attributed that to the hull design, the trim tabs, and the extra power. Del told me that it just my imagination as I tried to convince myself that I'd spend my money wisely. She was kidding, no doubt. Del took the helm for a while and I got to watch Mother as she worked about the boat, taking shots or looking for new opportunities. Some people naturally have "sea legs" and my mother was one of them. A boat is a constantly moving platform which makes using a camera a bit of a challenge. It didn't seem to have much effect on Mother as she steadied herself. What I noticed most of all was the smile on her face. These were all old familiar landscapes from years ago, but she was renewing her memories and taking in the sights as if it was the first time. I suppose I had a smile on my face to see how much pleasure she was getting from this day. I would glance up to the bridge to see Ardele looking back at me, smiling as well. We got back to the marina late that afternoon and I could see that my mother was tired. She had been busy all day with her photography and her general interest in our little voyage. The energy required to keep herself steady while the boat moved through the water had taken its toll. She declined our invitation to supper and headed back to North Van and her home. I was pretty sure she would sleep well that night. "Convinced?" Ardele asked as we watched her drive away. "About the deckhand thing? Yeah. She'll be fine," I nodded. To Be Concluded