The Great Escape

Tim stopped talking and was obviously listening to Roy's response. They talked some more, and Tim finally described how to find the marina and The Great Escape, and ended the call. By then, Lucinda was in front of him, jumping up and down, biting her lip to keep from yelling her questions.

"I think he might be for real," Tim told her. "At first, he thought I was calling because you were in an accident, then he wanted to know if I was, you know, a 'special friend.' I reassured him and gave him the diamond ring pitch, which you heard. Lucinda, he was almost crying on the phone. He said he would love to propose to you tomorrow, but he's scared you'll turn him down. I told him he deserves to be scared, but that I thought a proposal might be well received. I hope it's okay I said that."

"Oh, Tim, yes, yes. Oh my god, I feel like I'm living on a roller coaster. Tim, you are the sweetest, smartest man. You... wait, uh, you know, you and I, we, uh, I mean...."

"Lucinda, stop. You have been a great teacher the past few weeks, and you have also been a great lover. Past tense. We had both broken up with our significant others, and you certainly had no obligations to a guy who left you and moved across the country. Things are different now, and I promise Roy will never hear anything from me about our time together, except what a great teacher you are."

"Thank you, Tim. How about one last hug, and then I think I sleep in the mid berth tonight."

"Good idea. And for tomorrow, I'll plan to be here when Roy arrives, so he can see I'm just a friend and not any kind of competition. Then I'll go for a long run and leave the two of you. When I get back you can let me know what's going on."

For Tim, the next day was anticlimactic after the drama of the phone calls. He met Roy, who looked like a typical IT nerd to Tim: skinny, bearded, already balding. But he must have looked great to Lucinda, who leapt into his arms when he walked up to The Great Escape. Tim quickly left on his long run, which was harder than it should have been. Tim realized he was spending too much time on the boat and not enough time running and exercising. He vowed to change that.

When he returned to the boat, Roy and Lucinda were sitting hand-in-hand in the salon, Lucinda sporting an engagement ring with a diamond big enough to make her very happy and Roy sporting a goofy looking grin. Tim had to listen to the details of the proposal, Roy's adventures in quickly finding the ring, and the start of wedding plans. They made Tim promise to come to the wedding, wherever it might be. Of course, he promised, and helped Lucinda collect her clothes and stuff while Roy got a cab for them. They were heading to a hotel for the night and then flying up to Connecticut to see Lucinda's dad. Hugs all around when the cab came, and then, for the first time in weeks, Tim was alone.

Chapter Seven: Cora's Story Cont'd.

"Mrs. Peterson, this is Mary Golden, with Apex Investigators." Cora had answered the phone on the first ring, hoping against hope that it might be Tim. It never was.

"Yes, hi. Are you calling with news? Have you found Tim?"

"Yes and no. Yes, I am calling with news, but no, we have not found your husband yet. Would you have time to stop by the office...?"

"Yes, yes, any time, just tell me when and I'll be there." They quickly agreed on a time and Cora drove to the Apex office, forcing herself to drive carefully. Speeding and getting a ticket would just slow her down.

"Mrs. Peterson," Mary Golden started, "I'm going to go over what we have found, in chronological order. I think that will make it most understandable. We were able to trace your husband's truck pretty easily. On the day he left, he sold it to one of the young lawyers who works at his old law firm. We talked with that young man, and I think he was as informative as he could be. It didn't hurt that he might have thought we were looking for Mr. Peterson at the request of the partners of the law firm. Anyway, he told us that he picked up the truck from your husband at a marina in Mystic, Connecticut. Your husband appeared to be on a boat named Sherry Fine. We researched that boat and found it to be a Ranger tugboat owned by Fred Otter, who lives near Mystic. We talked to him, and he confirmed the sale to your husband. As part of the sale transaction, he committed to teaching your husband how to operate the boat, but he fell and broke his ankle before he could do that. Coincidentally, his daughter had just returned home and knew the boat pretty well. She volunteered to do the teaching in place of Fred. We're not sure what happened, but she left on the boat a few days later with Mr. Peterson."

"Ahh," Cora interrupted. "Was that planned? The two of them going away together? How old is this woman? Do you have a picture of her?"

"Mrs. Peterson, please. From what Fred Otter told us, this was completely on the up-and-up. Lucinda, that's his daughter's name, told him that Mr. Peterson agreed to pay her to spend a few days on the boat to show him how to run it, how to navigate, how to.... I don't really know, but I imagine there are a lot of things to learn to be able to run a tugboat."

"Okay, I guess that makes sense. So where did they go on the tugboat?"

"Well, I'm afraid that's all we know for sure at this point. We can assume they went south from Mystic. Going north in the winter just doesn't seem likely. Unfortunately, there are hundreds of marinas along the coast, and we don't even know if they stayed on the coast. They could have headed upriver somewhere. But fortunately, there is an association of marina owners and operators, and we have reached out to the association. We have asked that they contact us if that boat docks at any of their members' marinas. There is not a lot of small boat traffic in the winter, so we may have a good chance of hearing something."

"Hmm," said Cora, "so we think he is on a boat heading south, probably along the coast. I don't think I told you, our daughters are in college in North Carolina, and I know he has been in touch with them. If he goes far enough south, I'll bet he stops somewhere in North Carolina and goes to see the girls. Can you do some kind of special search of marinas in North Carolina?"

"We can. We can get a list of all marinas in North Carolina from the association and send each of them a message asking to be on the lookout for the tugboat. And you might ask your daughters to let you know if he shows up at their college."

"Well, I'm not sure that will work, but I will let the girls know to be on the lookout for their dad."

"And, ahh, one more item, Mrs. Peterson. We did review the CD you left, of you and Dr. Hanson. The video was apparently filmed from outside his apartment, and beyond that didn't really tell us anything. We reached out to Dr. Hanson's wife, who is a physician...."

"I know, I know, just tell me if you learned anything."

"Well, yes, we did. She informed us that she had become suspicious of her husband and hired a private investigator to uh, check up on him. That led to the video, and she was uh, happy to inform us that she sent it to your husband, along with some photo that she got from her husband's cell phone. I don't know if you are still in contact with her husband, but if you are you might want to give him a heads-up. I don't think his wife will be moving to Albany after her residency ends in Baltimore."

"Well, I guess it's good to know where the CD came from, but I don't think there is any upside for me to let Mark know about his wife." That ended the meeting and Cora paid her bill and left. She tried to feel encouraged with the news about Tim, but it was hard. She hoped she never met up with Mark's wife.

Cora drove home, and had dinner, alone.

Chapter Eight: Tim's Story Cont'd.

The next morning, after Lucinda had left, Tim took stock of The Great Escape. He filled the fuel tanks, bought groceries, checked the oil and other fluids, and made ready to head further south. He had seen enough of Washington and was ready for more adventures. He realized he missed Lucinda, as much for her companionship as for her teaching and helping with the boat. And, he admitted to himself, sex with her had been good for him; no, more than good, it had been great for him. Lucinda had helped him start his recovery from Cora and their failed marriage. That thought started him thinking about Cora, and that thought impelled him to cast off and start treading The Great Escape down the Potomac, an endeavor that took all his concentration.

Tim wasn't ready to think about Cora, and he wasn't sure he was ready to handle The Great Escape all by himself. As he motored away from the marina, into the tidal currents of the Potomac, his heart was racing, and he suspected his blood pressure was sky high. He kept his speed low, did some breathing exercises, and talked out loud to himself.

"I can do this. It's no different than driving the boat with Lucinda onboard. She might have been below, getting a snack or whatever. Currents here are slow and won't be much until I get closer to the bay. The Potomac is easy, the channel is marked, there's not much traffic, no big ships. I'm okay, all right, mighty fine. Mighty fine, mighty fine."

He decided he really was, mighty fine that is. He even sped up a bit and called ahead to reserve a spot at a marina between D.C. and Chesapeake Bay. He decided that cruising down the Potomac was a perfect transition for him, leaving behind his reliance on Lucinda and striking out on his own.

Life remained tranquil for Tim. He made it down the Potomac, inched his way to the bottom of Chesapeake Bay, always on the lookout for giant commercial ships and navy ships, and past Norfolk entered the Intracoastal Waterway. A week later, on a Friday afternoon, he was pulling into a marina in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. He had called his daughters, and they had agreed to meet him there. He tied up the boat, made sure it was clean, in and out. He wanted to impress the girls that living without their mother had not turned him into a slob. After a shower, he put on his best clothes (the shirt did have a collar), and he headed up to the marina office. He checked in and sat down to wait. Right on time, Callie and Chloe walked in the door, looked around and approached the attendant.

"Excuse me, sir," said Callie, "Have you had a boat arrive today, to dock overnight?"

"Yes ma'am," the attendant replied, as Tim yelled out.

"Callie, Chloe, don't you recognize me? It's not been that long." They turned to look at him: bearded, tanned, not nearly as heavy as they remembered their father.

"Daddy? Daddy!!" They screamed together as they ran to hug and kiss him. "Oh my god, we didn't recognize you. You're so, uh, so...."

Callie turned to Chloe, "Can you say your dad is hot looking?"

"Yeah, I think just this once we can. Dad, you are one hot looking dude," Chloe said. That started another round of hugs and laughing. The poor attendant just stared at this unusual family reunion. Tim and the girls moved the party to The Great Escape, both girls talking at the same time and Tim just grinning: happy to see his daughters and proud that they had noticed the result of his running and exercising.

The girls inspected the boat like they were army sergeants conducting an inspection, or at least it seemed that way to Tim. They clambered all around the boat and finally sat in the lounge with Tim.

"Dad," started Chloe, "Just so you know, we approve. We like the boat, and we like how you look. Seriously, you could turn the heads of some of our friends, and, to coin a phrase, you are old enough to be their father."

"Yeah, Dad," said Callie, "You do look good. It's obvious you've been working out a lot. We could go on and on with compliments, about the boat and you, but... there's this little elephant in the room and...."

"And we will address that elephant," interrupted Tim, "but first, let's go out to dinner and you two catch me up on classes, summer plans, boyfriends...."

"Wait, good idea, except maybe for the boyfriends." They walked from the marina to a nice seafood restaurant nearby in Myrtle Beach, enjoyed dinner, talked about school, their drive down to the beach from Chapel Hill, the girls' summer plans, and so on. Typical father-daughters conversation except for....

On the walk back to the marina, Callie tried again, "Dad, you know Mom really wants to contact you. She told us she screwed up big-time, had an affair, lost herself for a while, she said. Chloe and I don't want to get in the middle between the two of you. We love you both and... I don't know. We want you both to be happy, you know?"

"Thanks, honey," Tim replied. "I agree; the two of you should not be in the middle. Whatever happens between your mother and me, it's totally best for the two of you not to take sides, not to try to solve our marriage issues. You guys need to concentrate on school and...."

"Oh Dad, wait, wait, Mom texted me a note for you. I printed it." She was digging in her purse. "Here it is," and she handed him the note. Instead of looking at it, he turned again to the girls.

"Here's the plan. You guys can share the front cabin tonight. Clean sheets and towels just for you. Tomorrow, I'll take you out on a short cruise so you can experience what The Great Escape feels like underway. Then I fix dinner onboard, to impress my daughters with my culinary abilities. Sunday morning you can sleep in a bit, and then we'll go ashore for a nice breakfast or brunch or lunch or whatever. Then you drop me off back at the boat, and you'll still have plenty of time to drive back to school. Deal?"

"Yes, Dad, that's all fine. Good ideas, really. But promise us that you will read Mom's note. I'm not asking that you do anything in particular, but I just want to be able to tell Mom that we gave you the note and that you said you would read it. Deal?"

"Deal," replied Tim. "I will read it before I go to sleep tonight." Later, getting ready for bed in the small aft cabin, Tim felt a bit nostalgic, remembering early days on The Great Escape when Lucinda slept there. As he thought about Lucinda, he knew he was avoiding thoughts about Cora. Being with the girls had certainly brought back thoughts of home and he knew he needed to figure out his feelings about Cora. It was time to read her note:

Tim, I love you and I am so sorry I have failed you. I don't deserve forgiveness, but I hope you will let me speak to you, to try to start making up to you after my horrible failure. With all my love, Cora

Well, thought Tim, sounds like she isn't planning to leave me with what's-his-name. Or at least this what's-his name. I wonder how many of them there have been in the almost 30 years we have been together.

As Tim found himself slipping down the rabbit hole of trying to analyze his marriage, his wife or ex-wife-to-be, his feelings about her, his future, his, aw fuck it he said to himself. He realized he had made a mistake. Reading Cora's note just before bed meant no sleep, at least for some time. His solution: he put on his running clothes and headed out. Streetlights kept him from stumbling much, and he settled into a decent run.

Sometimes running freed his mind from his current concerns, but not this time. It helped that he had to concentrate on the run. Dealing with the shadows from the streetlights and the uneven surfaces kept him from thinking about his problems. A good thing for now, he thought. After a tiring run, he reboarded and climbed into his berth for the night. No shower since the girls were sleeping in the main cabin, where the shower was. Ah well, not the first time he had gone to bed smelly.

Tim did get his shower the next morning, while his daughters fixed breakfast. Then they headed out for their day cruise. Tim loved showing off his boat and his skills as the captain. The girls were duly impressed and were even more impressed when Tim fixed dinner on board: baked salmon with grilled vegetables and a fresh salad.

After dinner, Chloe brought up the lurking elephant in the room. "Dad, you need to do something about Mom. We're not telling you to divorce her or try some kind of reconciliation, but just 'escaping,'" she said as she held up her fingers in air quotes, "is not right. I mean, it can't be the right thing for you, can it? And everything we hear from Mom tells us it's totally not right for her. We love both of you, and we want both of you to be... I don't know, happy is not the right word...."

"Not stuck," is the term you might be looking for," said Tim. "You're right, I do need to reach out to your mom. I guess she and I are both stuck. From her note, she seems to want to reconcile, and she is stuck in place until I decide what I want. And until I read her note, I was 100% decided on divorce. Now, I guess I'm stuck, still leaning toward the D word, but not quite as sure.

"But, let's not let the elephant ruin the rest of the weekend. You ladies have a long drive ahead of you tomorrow, so let's all go to bed. After breakfast, you drive back to North Carolina, and I head toward Florida. I do promise both of you that I will be in touch with your mom before I reach Key West. And I want your promise not to share our conversations with her. You can tell her we spent the weekend together and I'm still alive, but I asked that our conversations be kept private. Okay?"

They both agreed and late the next morning, Callie and Chloe drove back to school, and The Great Escape headed down the Intracoastal Waterway toward Georgia and Florida.

Two weeks after leaving his daughters and Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, Tim was sitting on The Great Escape, in a marina in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Beer in hand, and he rarely drank any alcohol, but the times sometimes called for a little alcohol, he mulled over one of his favorite beliefs: everything regresses to the mean. He had had a great run down the Atlantic coast, all the way from Connecticut to Florida, with no mechanical problems at all. The Ranger tug had held up remarkably well. But now he was stuck. And he couldn't even blame the boat. The day before, just north of Fort Lauderdale, he had spent the night at a marina and filled up his fuel tank. Today, he found out his fuel lines were clogged with gunk. Gunk, he thought, a really technical term for something that would ruin his engine if he tried to run it. And worse, he was one of about a hundred boaters with the same problem. The bad batch of diesel fuel was causing havoc in the Lauderdale area, and it would be at least three more days before one of the overworked mechanics could get to his boat to fix the problem. So, he sat, trying not to fume.

Eventually, he wandered over to the marina office and rented a small, outboard powered motorboat. He had already done his morning run and exercises and needed something to fill his day. He puttered out and across the ICW and cruised up and down the canals crisscrossing some of the residential neighborhoods of Fort Lauderdale. Beautiful city, he thought, but today was April 10 and the temperatures were already in the 80's. Could be brutal in August.

Tim stopped at a nice waterside restaurant for a pretty good dinner, the motored back to the marina, returned the motorboat and went to bed early. And found the next morning that the mean regression had turned back in his favor. A mechanic turned up at about eight o'clock and spent more than four hours cleaning fuel lines and, at Tim's request, tuning up The Great Escape's diesel engine.

"Mister," the mechanic confessed, "this engine don't really need tuning up. Other than the gunk, it runs just fine."

"Well, thanks for looking at it," Tim said, as he paid a serious amount of money to the tired mechanic. Tim decided not to run in the heat of the afternoon. Instead, he would laze away the rest of the day, do his morning run and exercises the next morning, and then head south toward the Florida Keys.