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.