Jim shrugged. “I float. As long as I can work with people, I’m happy.”
“You ... you float?” Now the creases migrated to the captain’s forehead.
“I’m easygoing. I go wherever the wind takes me.” So far he’d managed to float to the top of his high school class, into the Naval Academy, and right onto this destroyer. And for Jim, floating was a far safer policy than pushing into the wind. That’s how people got hurt.
Durant leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his stomach. “Every sailor knows if you let the wind direct you, at some point you end up on the rocks.”
Instead of showing his commander he’d be easy to work with, Jim had made himself sound lazy. “Don’t worry, sir. I’m a hard worker.”
“He sure is,” Arch said. “Near the top of his class at the Academy.”
“Right behind Arch.” Jim flicked his friend a grateful look.
“Only because you tutored me in calculus.”
“If I’d known...” Jim shook his head in mock self-reproach.
Durant didn’t reply but motioned in the stewards with the meal.
Air ballooned in Jim’s cheeks. That hadn’t gone well, but it wouldn’t take long to win over the captain.
After dinner, Jim headed up to the deck with Arch. To starboard, the setting sun silhouetted Boston’s skyline, with the Custom House standing tall above all else. To port, the lights were flickering out at the Navy Yard.
At the bow of theAtwood, Jim gazed down the narrow length of his ship. Couldn’t wait to set out and see what she could do.
“I suppose she’s done working for the day,” Arch said.
“Who?” Jim followed his friend’s gaze to the Navy Yard. “Mary?”
“Yeah. Nice girl. Pretty too.”
A sour taste filled Jim’s mouth. “Don’t let Gloria hear you talk that way.”
Arch whapped him in the arm. “You numbskull. I’m talking about you. She’d be good for you.”
“Mary?” Jim strolled down the starboard side of the destroyer, away from the Navy Yard. “Sure, she’s pretty, but you know I prefer bubbly blondes. Always have.”
“Because of ... what’s her name?” Arch snapped his fingers. “The girl back home with the strange name.”
Jim’s shoulders went taut. It wasn’t a strange name at all. The most beautiful name he’d ever heard. “Yes, her.”
“You always date the same type of girl, but no relationship you’ve had lasts more than a month or two.”
Jim skirted the platform for the number two 5-inch gun. “So?”
“So maybe there’s a reason.”
The reason was clear—no one held a candle to Quintessa Beaumont.
Arch stepped over a coiled line. “Maybe you should pursue a quiet brunette instead.”
High above, the superstructure for the bridge climbed into the darkening sky—the pilothouse, the signal deck, and the gun director, all stacked in order. As assistant gunnery officer, Jim would spend most of his time caged in the gun director. “I’m not going to pursue anyone right now, not when we’re shipping out soon.”
“Well then, spare me any more double dates. All those bubbles make me dizzy.”
On the far side of the superstructure, Charlestown came into view again. “Mary seems to like our evenings on the town. As long as the poor thing can put up with you and me, you’ll get a reprieve.”
Arch’s breath huffed out into the cool evening air. “Poor thing indeed.”
