Read Online A Matter of Time by David Manuel - Free Book Online Page A

was thinking of going to Bermuda instead of Europe, her best friend just stared at her. “
Bermuda?
”
    “Why not?” Amy shot back. “It was good enough for your parents, wasn’t it?”
    Pam looked at her, her eyes widening. “It’s not—that
gleama
, is it?”
    No answer.
    “It
is!
”
    Silence.
    “Ames!” Pam shouted at her, “you can’t be hung up ona guy that looks like he stepped out of a Lands’ End catalogue!”
    Amy nodded and threw a rueful smile. “That’s why I’ve got to go back. To see if he’s more than just a
gleama
.”
    And so, to Pam’s, and Colin’s—and her own—surprise, she did.

10      bermuda rules
    He met her at the airport, but instead of going straight to the Coral Beach Club, they stopped off at the Swizzle Inn, where
     the owner, Jay, was an old friend. On the island, Colin explained, that usually meant that the families were old friends,
     someone having married someone way back. But Jay was a regular guy, and he ran the best place west of the White Horse.
    Fortunately a table was available on the upper verandah. Colin ordered lunch for them—Fish & Chips and swizzles—and they talked
     lightly about the weather and the oppressive humidity that was about to descend, ending the tourist season.
    “Is that tough on people like Jay?” she asked.
    “Not really. The ones who depend on the tourist trade,” he nodded towards their host, greeting another table of returnees,
     “have been busting their humps for the past three months. They’re ready for a break. But after three months of summer, they’ll
     be rested up and ready to go again.”
    He offered her a shaker bottle of clear liquid, “Here, try this on your chips.”
    “On my fries? What is it?”
    “Vinegar.”
    “
Euw
,” she gasped, wrinkling her nose.
    “Brit trick. It works. Try it.”
    She did, frowning, and then, tilting her head, she smiled. “Mm, not bad. Know any other Brit tricks?”
    “Maybe,” he murmured, flashing her that full Lands’ End smile.
    “Are you flirting with me, sailor?”
    “Aw, shucks, ma’am; you caught me.”
    “Well, don’t,” she said, smiling, too, but half serious. “I’m not sure I’m ready yet.”
    “Would you like another swizzle?”
    She had to laugh. “Candy’s dandy, but liquor’s quicker?”
    “
The Golden Trashery of Ogden Nashery
.”
    “You know Ogden Nash?”
    He smiled. “My checkered academic career, such as it was—or wasn’t—exposed me to many things. Some of the oddest bits seem
     to have lodged in the backeddies of my mind.”
    She smiled. “You
are
a man of many layers.”
    He stopped smiling. “I’m not sure how to take that. Truth is, I’m actually not that good at playing games—unless, of course,
     I’m running the table.”
    The waitress came up and asked if they would care for anything else—another swizzle, perhaps?
    He raised his eyebrows.
    She shook her head.
    He shook his head, and the waitress departed.
    “If you’re not running the table, who is?”
    “I wish I knew,” he said with a shrug, adding, “All I know is, the stack of chips in front of me is small and gettingsmaller.” He scrutinized the imaginary stack in front of her. “While yours is tall and getting taller.”
    “Thurber?”
    “Sort of.” He frowned and looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “Now you wouldn’t be gamin’ a poor sailor, would you, ma’am?”
    She raised her hands in mock innocence.
    “’Cause if you are—I’m not sure I’m ready yet.”
    They laughed. Then laughed again.
    “Can we back up a little?” she pleaded.
    “No prob. X.O., take her up to periscope depth.” He leaned back. “So, what’ll you do now that you’re done with college?”
    She told him how her father was training her to take over the family business, managing several thousand acres of Georgia
     pine.
    He told her how he’d gotten involved in ocean racing—almost as a lark at first. But it gave an adrenalin rush like nothing
     else, so you