My second novel, Ye Gods! The episode audio is being processed and will be ready shortly. If you liked this show, you should follow In the Authors Corner with Etienne. Lynne Hinkey Marina Melee marine scientist donkey years in the Caribbean marinas boaters Charleston South Carolina author short stories essays travel articles reviewer The Internet Review of Books adjunct professor biology Trident Technical College University of Maryland University College Lynne Hinkey is a marine scientist who spent "donkey years" in the Caribbean, hanging around marinas and boaters. Register or Sign In. Sorry we couldn't complete your registration.
Please try again. You must accept the Terms and conditions to register. Publish To Social Networks. Company About Us. Connect With Us. All Rights Reserved. Paddy's Day when he hears how much this one cost. One of these days I think he really is going to cut off my salary like he keeps threatening.
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Then what am I gonna do? Aw, Georgie, we know the oil business isn't really where you want to be. Katie May gave his hand a sympathetic pat.
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You should just quit. And do what? George asked, knowing full well that Katie May's trust fund sometimes interfered with her understanding of the real world.
All I'm good at is golf. You know that's not true, honey. You're a natural-born businessman, you just haven't found the right venue to show that off yet. She adjusted her wide-brimmed straw hat to a sassier angle. And never will, if my daddy has anything to say about it. He raised his beer bottle in a mock toast to his father. Besides, this is just how the Marshall family works.
We do whatever it is my daddy needs done. So the pro tour will just have to go on without me. He caught the barmaid's eye and motioned for another round. Melissa came out from behind the bar carrying a bucket of beers on ice.
She brushed her breasts across George's shoulders as she leaned over and set it in the middle of the table. George slid her a ten. Thanks, darlin'. She rewarded him with a watt smile. But what would you really like to do? Katie May persisted, pulling George's attention and eyes back to the matter at hand. Get out from Marshall Enterprises, for one. Do something I enjoy. But, as my dear old daddy likes to remind me, I am a good-for-nothin' playboy. Can't make a living at that. You're wicked, girl, and that's what I love about you. Ricky leaned over and kissed his wife on the cheek.
George rolled his eyes. Despite twelve years of marriage, his friends were still like high-school sweethearts. He didn't understand how they did it. As soon as the I dos were said, each of his wives had stopped being attentive and fun-loving and turned into a money-spending, spa-going she-devil who was too tired for sex.
At least with him. He wasn't sure how, but he was certain his father was behind his failed relationships. His father was behind everything. Seriously, Georgie, you need to find some work you love. If you were happy with what you were doing, you wouldn't need these bimbos to keep you entertained. I think you're just a little depressed over the latest marital fiasco, said Ricky. Your father. Katie May and I are heading down to the Caribbean for a while. Why don't you join us? There's plenty of room on the Southern Cross. It'll be fun. Whenever you feel the need to come racing back to save Marshall Enterprises, we'll pull into some lovely tropical island and put your sorry behind on a plane.
George leaned back and put his bare feet on the helm.
He felt better than he had in months. Sailing and the tropics were good for his waistline--he was down six pounds--and although it had taken three weeks before his head stopped peeling, he now sported a golden-brown tan. He hadn't had a cigarette or a drink in almost a week. Not that the healthy lifestyle was intentional. It was more a matter of survival ever since the night back on St.
The three sailors had wanted a nightcap after returning to the Southern Cross from dinner at Skinny Legs in Coral Bay. George offered to play bartender. That's where his memory grew hazy.
He knew there had been flames and his first, rum-stunned reaction had been: Look how pretty. But what is that smell? After a few frenzied moments involving waved towels, thrown drinks, and a pot of leftover coffee, the shipmates managed to put the fire out with only superficial damage to the vessel and George. Maybe his daddy had been right and this trip would be good for him. He'd make a clean break from his past: no drinking, no smoking, and no women.
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When George had told his father that he was taking a month off, his father's initial reaction had been supportive: You do that. Followed by what George had expected: And don't you dare show your face around this office until I've cooled off. I can't believe your numbskulled, penis-thinking brain has put our family in this situation again. We can't afford another dee-vorce.
The lecture had gone on in that vein for some time, with the usual references to all we've done for you and disgrace the family name, reaching a crescendo at that same refrain George had been hearing since high school: Your momma is just sick over this. George knew the whole spiel by heart.
And he knew that once again he'd beg his momma's forgiveness, swear it wasn't her fault, and promise he'd come back ready to settle down to his responsibilities at Marshall Enterprises. But his father added a new twist to the tired song. Come to think of it, you can enjoy that little vacation for as long as you'd like.
You're fired. And I'm cuttin' off your allowance, too. I don't care what your mother says, his father continued.