Annie, feigning disgust, nodded slowly at her husband as he pulled her to him once again. Mike ignored the Navy’s rules about public displays of affection in uniform that pertained to his wife, not to him.
A microphone appeared and the matron took it, gushing over the assembled Coral Sea officers, especially the admiral, with whom she appeared to be smitten. At the appropriate time, Admiral Meyerkopf took the microphone and graciously thanked the Navy League and the people of Saint Thomas for their warm hospitality. Professional and confident — and well prepared — he didn’t leave anyone out as he thanked the locals by name and impressed upon them the importance of this port visit to the Navy. The civilian guests beamed.
Once the perfunctory remarks concluded, the steel drum resumed the island beat and everyone was ready for another round of drinks. In the dimming twilight, Wilson walked to the railing and viewed the 100,000-ton ship at anchor. Resplendent in “dress ship” lighting that cascaded from the mast to the bow and stern, with row upon row of gray aircraft parked on her deck, she dominated the entry to the harbor. A ferry had just left, chugging across the gentle waves with another load of sailors ready for a night in town. They had five hours until midnight when Cinderella Liberty would expire for many of them. Plenty of time, he surmised for them to find fun — or trouble. As Wilson pondered the good ship Coral Maru from a mile away, he imagined himself abeam, hook down, through the 90, picking up the ball, easing the power as he slid across the imaginary wake, on centerline, on glideslope…
“Hey.”
Wilson turned with a start. The tall brunette stood right next to him waiting for a response.
(Frenchman’s Reef Resort)
“Hey,” Wilson replied. She looked directly at him. Her soft smile suggested she was his friend and wanted to talk.
“Come here often?” she asked with a coy turn of her head. Wilson tried to place the accent.
“Couple of times a career. How about you?”
“First time. Love it,” she drawled. Texas? Mississippi?
“What brings you here?” Wilson asked and turned to face her. Billy was right. Whoa!
She motioned toward her companion who was engaged in conversation with a group of men on the other side of the pool. “Him. Sugah Daddy. His name is Marvin, and I met him three days ago.”
Wilson was intrigued. “Three days, and here you are on his arm in Saint Thomas?”
“Uh-huh. Anything wrong with that?” She was locked on Wilson, playing with him just by standing