Love Times 7: Seven Short Stories of Our Favorite Emotion

By Joseph Clinard

Having published several novels of adventure and intrigue, Joseph Clinard now offers his readers seven short stories of couples in love, that amazing human emotion we all love to love. In completely different venues and genres, the author brings caring and sentimentality to the fore, designed to reach out and grab onto the heartstrings and maybe even bring a tear to the eye. Using humor as well as pathos, the author often attains his objective.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Sep 3, 2014
• ISBN: 9781496932600

Joseph Clinard

JOSEPH CLINARD, a financial advisor by occupation, has written and published five novels of adventure and intrigue while developing a strong following of fans in the process. In addition to this avocation, Joe loves golf and travel as well as boating on New York’s Long Island Sound. Not quite old enough for retirement, he happily mixes business and these pleasures with much aplomb.

Book preview

39695.png

Joseph Clinard

39701.png

AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

© 2014 Joseph Clinard. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 9/2/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4969-3261-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4969-3260-0 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

On the Horizon of Love

Karen

The Mathematics of Love: The Sad Story of Dunmore Throop, Ph.D

ROTH 991XLC

Charlie Oscar: Master Seducer

The Couple

Katya and Alexei

A special moment is never cherished until it becomes a memory.

BOOKS BY JOSEPH CLINARD

TRANSFERENCE

THE CUMMINGS LEGACY

THE AVENTI CIPHER

THE TSUNAMI FACTOR

CONSPIRACY

LOVE TIMES SEVEN

ON THE HORIZON OF LOVE

A SHORT STORY

By

JOSEPH CLINARD

R OGER STOOD AT THE RAIL on Deck 10 of the American Countess , a 120,000 ton, 950 foot cruise ship. The embarkation process had been tedious but once it, and the mandatory life boat drill was over, and with his first gin and tonic in his hand, he was finally beginning to relax.

He had boarded the ship three hours earlier and sat around waiting for it to sail but the wait had given him the needed time to reflect on what had been a devastating ordeal. His wife of ten years had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer only two years earlier and while the surgeons post-op had assured them both that she was free of the dreaded disease, eighteen months later it had aggressively returned.

Months ago she took a turn for the worst and was admitted to Miami General where her condition was gravely diagnosed as terminal. Hospice followed a week later and she slipped away within days.

The funeral was quick, family only, and ended with a heartbreaking graveside service. After that, everyone just seemed to fade away and he was alone with his grief. For months he simply sat around the apartment feeling sorry for himself, drowning his sadness in alcohol. Finally, at the prompting of several friends he decided that he needed a complete change of venue which is why a cruise commercial on television made him reach for the telephone. His travel agent at Preferred Travel in Naples seemed to know exactly what he needed.

The steam horn, mounted on the smokestack a deck above his head blasted two short and one long announcing the ship’s departure. The massive underwater thrusters foamed the water on the starboard side as the Countess slowly slipped her moorings; the space between the hull and the dock widening.

An hour later, Roger was still at the same railing, nursing the same drink and basically staring out to an empty sea as the sun began to set. Much of the crowd had retired to their staterooms in preparation for dinner and Deck 10 was all but empty.

He couldn’t put Ann’s death behind him. There had been no children and they lived for each other, spending most of the time together. Roger was a trial lawyer in his own small firm while Ann wrote copy for a boutique advertising agency. Their greatest pleasure was following the snow, skiing regularly in both Park City, Utah in the winter and Valle Nevado, Chile in the summer. Both loved the deep stuff and were double-diamond class skiers. Now, watching the sun melt into the sea, he wondered if he’d ever ski again. Without Ann, he couldn’t see himself traveling to either resort without his fellow powderhound with him.

His reverie was interrupted by the presence of someone standing next to him at the rail. He looked over to see that he had been joined by a tall female dressed in a white uniform.

Did you hear the one about the horse that walked up to the bar and the bartender asked him, ‘Why the long face?’ I could ask you the same thing, she said, smiling.

Roger was amused and actually welcomed the distraction from the encroaching periods of grief that he felt was heading his way. This would probably have caused him to blow-off dinner on the first night at sea. He had previously arranged to sit at the community table designed by the cruise director as a singles collective attempt at match-making She was attractive but not young; in fact, Roger thought she might even be a year or two older than he.

I’m okay, he said. Thanks for asking; just by myself here, deep in thought.

No company? Don’t tell me you’re on this ship alone? she asked, wistfully.

Yeah, this is one of those get-away-from-it-all-and-forget-about-everything vacations. Hi, I’m Roger Conrad from Miami, he said, extending his hand and smiling. I take it that you must be the ship’s captain? he asked ludicrously.

She threw back her head and laughed, shaking his hand. You wouldn’t want me to be at the helm of this vessel if you saw the way I drive a car. Hello, I’m June Harris, the Countess’s wireless officer.

Wireless officer? I wasn’t aware that today’s modern ships still had a wireless room.

She continued: "Oh, yes. But they’re very different today than what you saw in the movie, Titanic. Although we can, we almost never use lower bandwidths these days. That’s where continuous signal carrier wave was used to send out the S.O.S. you saw in the movie. Today everything is satellite relayed and we mostly handle wire messages and telephone calls while at sea between our passengers and their homes or businesses. Also, we run the onboard Internet, all the television stations you’ll watch in your stateroom and a few other chores. However, we do monitor the Emergency Frequencies 24 hours a day and we all can receive and send Morse code. Would you like a tour of the communications center tomorrow morning? I could arrange it; the bridge too, if you’re interested."

Roger already liked this woman. She was tall- unlike Ann who had been petite- she was also a little heavier with plenty of curves but not at all fat, and she was dark blond, although, he admitted, these days you couldn’t be sure of a woman’s natural hair color. Nevertheless, she was pretty, quite friendly and intelligent and he was already becoming attracted to her and feeling guilty about it.

I’d love that! What time should I be there?

I come on duty at 0800 but I have tasks so let’s make it around ten o’clock. Unless you plan to get off the boat in Nassau tomorrow? she asked.

Truth be told, I wasn’t planning on getting off the boat in any of the ports of call. I’m just here for a change of scenery and get my head on straight, not to sightsee. Besides, explained Roger, I’ve been there before.

She looked him straight in the eye. I don’t know what you’re here trying to forget but if would help you to talk about it, I have a degree in good listening. She reached over and touched his arm. I’m not meddling, Roger. Just trying to help.

I know and I appreciate it. I’ll see you at the communication center in the morning. And, thanks. He walked away, placing his empty glass on a table and headed for Deck 6 and his stateroom. He’d have room service bring him something to eat and he’d just sit out on the balcony, smoke a cigar and watch the ship’s wake until it was too dark to see it. He also doubted that he’d go up to the Communication Center in the morning. He felt that he couldn’t get involved with this woman. Ann just wouldn’t understand.

****

Roger was up at his usual 5:30 the next morning. He put on a pair of sneakers and ran five miles by circling the ship 20 times on the Promenade Deck. Once cooled down, he stopped at the breakfast buffet for some grapefruit, a hardboiled egg and a cup of black coffee. Then, returning to his stateroom for his Kindle, he made his way up to the Sundeck and found a chaise lounge near the aft swimming pool.

Stretching out on one pool towel and forming a second one into a head pillow, he reclined comfortably and got back into the e-book he had been reading. It was an adventure-thriller about a guy named Jack Reynolds, written by some obscure author.

Ten o’clock came and went. No thought was given to keeping the appointment at the Communications Center.

The pool deck was empty of passengers as the ship had already docked in Nassau, and everyone was hurrying to get ashore. Roger loved the resulting solitude. He applied some sun block and donned a New York Yankees baseball cap to keep the sun off of his head where the hair was already thinning too much for his liking. A few minutes later while deeply engrossed in the novel, he unintentionally fell asleep, the Kindle falling softly onto his chest.

Roger slept in the warm sunshine and light breeze for over 90 minutes. He was suddenly awakened by the shadow that darkened his chaise, blocking the sun and dropping the temperature a degree or two.

Opening his eyes, he could tell by the silhouette who his visitor was.

Oh, June, hello, he muttered softly.

Today her uniform was milk-white Bermuda shorts and a white crisp blouse, gold emblems gleaming in the bright sun.

I missed seeing you on the Bridge Deck earlier. I’m now on break and thought I’d come find you. Had a feeling you’d be up here. Are you alright?

Roger sat up, wiped the perspiration from his face with his towel and pulled the adjoining chaise over so June could sit.

I’m fine, thanks. Sorry I disappointed you.

June sat down on the adjoining chaise lounge. Roger, let’s be straight with each other. Would you like me to leave you alone? If so, I can easily do that and you’ll never see me again. It’s up to you. She waved a wisp of blond hair away from her face. I want to respect your privacy.

You’re very kind. Do I want you to leave me alone? Not really. Yet, I’m filled with guilt over something you don’t know about and thus cannot understand.

I can’t know about your life if you don’t want to tell me about it. If you decide to talk to me, you’ll find that I am very understanding. I was a psychology major in college but chose not to pursue it. Like I said, the choice is yours.

June, let me give it some thought. I don’t want to bring a lot of drama into a new friendship, if that’s, in fact, what we are developing here. Roger leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. Let’s see how it all plays out. Meanwhile, are you planning on going ashore?

No. Not today. I guess I’ll just go and have some lunch.

Roger thought for a long moment. Do you mind if I join you?

They sat in the back of the Sun Deck buffet where the crew usually took their lunch. June introduced Roger to several of her friends and then they sat alone. He found that she was very easy to talk to and asked all the right questions. It seemed to him that he actually welcomed her inquiries which gave him the opportunity to vent his grief and the resulting guilt. At one point he felt that it would even be okay to cry if he had to, and that she’d be considerably supportive.

After lunch, they slowly walked around the Boat Deck talking. When Roger seemed to be emotionally drained from discussing his deceased Ann, he began to ask June questions about her life. He learned that she