Page 18 of Alarm Fatigue

I laugh, “I remember my father complaining about all of those things. My dad always had a boat when I was very young. We used to keep ours at a marina in Shady Cove. Do you know that area?”

“I know it well. In fact, I was actually was thinking we’d head over towards the West River today. I packed a lunch and there is a pleasant and quiet spot where we can anchor.”

“That sounds wonderful.” I actually feel an ache in my face, and wonder when the last time was that my cheeks hurt from smiling. What does that say about what my face is doing on an average day? I try not to dwell on that as I close my eyes and take in the scent of sunblock on my warm skin, and the trace of salt in the air. What a perfect day. About thirty minutes go by in companionable silence before I break it.

“The weather could not be better. Let me know if you want me to give you a break from the Captain’s seat. I think I remember the gist of it.”

“If it really is okay with you, I will take you up that now,” Seth says, “I could use a break.”

Making my way over to the helm, our hands brush as I grip the tiller and feel the pull of the bay’s current on the rudder. I look up at him, and my God, he is tall, just as he leans down and nearly places his right hand under my jaw, but it is actually hovering just out of reach. I feel frozen in place, until he breaks the trance by asking, “May I?” I can feel the warmth of the sun on his face and hand as I lean my face into his hand in answer.

I glance to the port and starboard to be sure I am not about to hit another boat or run over a buoy, and in answer to his question, I reach up on my toes, pressing my lips to his.

It is brief and definitely chaste but pleasant and warm. He smells fantastic, of salt water and cinnamon chewing gum. I dated a boy in high school who gave me my first kiss, the only one I had before college. He also chewed cinnamon gum and the nostalgia threatens to overwhelm me.

Nope, you are not going to ruin this with getting into your head about the past. This is literally the most perfect date.

I pull back and put my heels back on the deck.

“I’d better watch where we are going before I run us aground,” I say, without breaking eye contact.

He looks down at me through hooded eyes, and I can see the warmth there.

“Right. Good thinking.” He takes a half step back while continuing to look at me, and gives me an adorable half smile that provides me with notion of a younger version of him.

“We are coming up to the cove and I can steer us in, or I can talk you through it.”

“I do not mind steering us in, if you do not mind talking me through it. Is that okay?”

He is now right behind me, but careful not to touch me. Pointing right around my shoulder he shows me the way. “Head starboard towards that orange marker.”

I follow his instructions and we find a spot to stop. We anchor to have lunch just enough out of the wind for the water to be calm but with enough breeze to keep the bugginess to a minimum. There are a few other boats here, with children splashing around in brightly-colored life vests. Seth sets out tuna salad sandwiches, three different flavors of chips & dips, and watermelon slices. I am delighted when I do not have to ask to stop and make a blessing on the bread. It is just something we both naturally do. I smile over at him. This is almost too easy.

“So your father had a few different boats when you were growing up?”

“Yes, and I really loved the time we spent down here. Happy memories.” I elect not to elaborate on the drinking culture around our sailing club, and subsequent drama. The bars we were kicked out of while I pretended I was asleep, the time he accused my mother of sleeping with his best friend and left both my mother and me behind in a water taxi. We had to figure out a place to sleep by sneaking back into the club house because she did not have a credit card or any money of her own.

Seth also does not ask. I know he heard me mention my father’s issues with alcohol abuse the last time we met and his decision to remain silent does seem intentional. He does not bring it up. So neither do I.

While talking about what we do at our jobs, he tells me the types of patents he has been working on recently. He also informs me that he is currently teaching a graduate course at George Washington. In a very general way, I tell him the types of medical illnesses we most commonly admit to our hospital.

“Heart disease, heart attacks, orthopedic emergencies, infectious diseases, like pneumonia, and acute kidney illness. That type of thing. And my team only see those patients that require the intensive care unit for management.”

“You only work at night, is that correct?” I nod in the affirmative. “Is that like a choice or something?” My choice.

“I only work at night because it is what I have done for years, but honestly it is my favorite shift. Not to mention there are things that happen during the day, administrative types of things, that I do not want deal with at this point in my life.”

He does not say anything further, but I wonder what he is thinking. Except I kind of do not want to know because today is going so well.

“You have to embrace what you love if you are lucky enough to find it.”

“And you have that with patent law?” As soon as I ask this I wonder if he will think I was being unkind and not simply teasing. However it is no sooner out of my mouth that he throws his head back and laughs so hard he is transformed. His laugh is a glorious sound. I would not mind make this strait-laced stuffed shirt laugh like that again. I have a feeling it is rare, which does make that much more precious.

We also speak about what we find meaningful outside of our work. We discover we have in common that we pray with more kavanah after surviving the loss of our respective spouses. He tells me that he and his late wife had made peace with their inability to have children. I tell him all about my three girls and my herd of grandchildren.

“So David and Gabriella live in Potomac and they have five children?”

“Yes, all girls until the latest one, Yonah. He is going to be completely spoiled or terrorized. Maybe a bit of both. It is as if he has multiple mothers. Except the oldest of the twins, Lila Tova. She does not want much to do with him. She likes to keep to herself with books and Legos. She is very introverted and likes to let her sister do most of the talking for them. They are all amazing.” I smile at this. “Of course I would say so, but they really are.”

---