Ten Short Romances

By Ted Stetson

This collection of ten tender romances explores love's many facets - old, new, lost and found. Stories include: Miss Beverly's Souvenir, Rocket Man, Misty, Something Happened, Anytime, Oregon Sunshine, You Again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ted Stetson
• Release date: May 24, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463590546

Ted Stetson

Ted Stetson is a member of SFWA. He was born in Brooklyn and raised on Long Island and went to Seton Hall and Hofstra. He graduated from the University of St. Thomas, Houston, Texas. He was awarded First Place by the Florida Literary Arts Council and First Place in the Lucy B. McIntire contest of the Poetry Society of Georgia. His short fiction has appeared in Twisted Tongue, MysteryAuthors.com, Future Orbits, State Street Review, and the anthologies; One Evening a Year, Mota: Truth, Ruins Extraterrestrial Terra, Ruins Terra and Barren Worlds. His books include: Night Beasts, The Computer Song Book.

Book preview

Ten Short Romances

By Ted Stetson

Copyright © 2019 Ted Stetson

Published by Three Door Publishing

Miss Beverly’s Souvenir Copyright © 2017 Ted Stetson

Oregon Sunshine Copyright © 2015 Ted Stetson

You Again Copyright © 2013 Ted Stetson

Anytime Copyright © 2014 Ted Stetson

Merry-Go-Round Copyright © 2014 Ted Stetson

Rocket Man Copyright © 2012 Ted Stetson

Misty Copyright © 2011 Ted Stetson

The Photo Booth Copyright © 2012 Ted Stetson

Second Time Copyright © 2012 Ted Stetson

Something Happened Copyright © 2016 Ted Stetson

The Wrong Stop Copyright © 2012 Ted Stetson

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Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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For Gail

Contents

1 - Miss Beverly’s Souvenir

2 - Oregon Sunshine

3 - You Again

4 - Anytime

5 - Merry-Go-Round

6 - Rocket Man

7 – Misty

8 - The Photo Booth

9 - Second Time

10 - Something Happened

Excerpt

Other stories

About the Author

1 - Miss Beverly’s Souvenir

Instead of going to the class reunion, Beverly Martin went to Florida to visit her brother. She didn’t want to hear how great—true or not—everyone was doing; Sally’s fabulous third husband, Jenny’s return from some exotic land, Karen’s fifth child, Maggy’s great job. She would rather take time off and lie on a soft sandy beach. Peter and his wife lived only two blocks from Ormond Beach. And everyone knew the sharks were way down in Daytona.

Bev woke in the guest room on the other side of the house from Peter and Diane and their three kids. After grabbing her big floppy hat and her beach gear she walked down the street to the ocean. It was just as she liked it, empty. She crossed A1A and climbed down the old wooden steps to the white sand. Taking took off her flip-flops she dug her toes into the soft sand. It was heaven. This was so much better than a weekend in some hotel.

Feeling the soft sand between her toes she walked across the soft sand until she found the perfect spot and spread her blue beach towel. The sun was hot. The gentle wind didn’t even ripple the water. She scanned the ocean. Not a wave to be seen, the smooth water so clear she could see the bottom. Where the water was deeper it was darker, but she wasn’t going out there.

Once she coated herself with cocoa butter suntan lotion, she sat on her blue beach towel to let the fragrant lotion sink in. Then she put on her big sunglasses and her wide-brimmed floppy straw hat and carried Pete’s pool raft to the surf.

The raft had a large blown up rim around the outside edge. Not that she would mind a little cool water on a day like today, even the ocean was bath warm. She remembered when she saw the movie Jaws, she’d been afraid to take a bath. She smiled. How dumb was that?

Wading into the gentle ocean she placed the raft on the water. She straddled the raft, then sat in it and laid back and closed her eyes. With the big hat and sunglasses on, she could have been in someone’s pool. The gentle rocking waves were soothing and calming, she could fall sleep, but she wouldn’t. Not here. She wasn’t crazy. This was the ocean.

Putting her hand into the water, she felt for the bottom. She had to reach way down to feel the sandy bottom in the gentle swells. She pushed the raft toward shore. After all, she didn’t want to drift to the Bahamas. That was some joke, drifting to the Bahamas. Still, she peeked to the side and saw her suntan lotion arm had left an oily slick on the water.

The thought of drifting out into the open ocean unnerved her and she put her hand over the side and touched bottom again. She had to reach a little deeper this time, but still nothing to worry about. The water, the surf, was so gentle. What could go wrong? She laid back, closed her eyes, and left her hand in the water; it was refreshing.

She was daydreaming about that damn shark movie when she opened her eyes with a start. She shook her head. Now was a time to relax, not frighten herself. She reached over the side to touch the bottom. For a moment, she couldn’t touch the bottom, and then she felt it pass below her and laid back.

Her eyes shot open. That wasn’t the bottom. It—it moved. She’d touched something, something not small, and it had moved away.

She looked to the side. The water was still flat, but now she was far from the beach. So far away she almost jumped off the raft, but first she peeked over the side to see how deep it was. She couldn’t really tell.

She was about to slide off the raft and swim for shore when she saw a gray shovelnose shark swim below her. How deep did it have to be for something that big to swim around? Then she saw the water was full of sharks. Mostly small. But dozens. Many around the raft. The beach was getting further away by the second. She must be in a current or a tide. If she didn’t do something right away, the water would be really deep.

She tried to calm herself. Hadn’t she read an article about sharks being able to sense fear? Did they do it by hearing your heartbeat? She didn’t know. She was too scared to know. Then she remembered reading about sharks being able to smell your flesh, and that to them, hand paddling sounded like a fish in trouble and they would come to investigate or attack. She froze. If she couldn’t put her hand in the water to paddle, what could she do? She had to do something. And soon.

She took off her hat—it was soft—and rolled it up, something she’d taught the children in her art class. Roll up those old baseball caps and use the brim as a brush on the mural. They were painting scenery for the auditorium. Cautiously, she used the rolled-up sunhat as a small oar and tried to paddle to shore, but she was no match for the current. It was carrying her out to sea faster than she could paddle.

What to do? Maybe she could gently, very gently, slip into the water and quietly, carefully swim to shore. She was about to slip over the side when she saw even more sharks around the raft. Now the ones under her were even bigger.

She scanned the beach. There was no one there to call for help. Cars drove by on the road. She was probably too small for them to notice. She looked around at the sharks. Could someone in a car see the sharks from the road?

Then a car beeped its horn. They saw her. Was it a hello beep or a warning? She didn’t know, didn’t care. She started waving her hat. They beeped again. She waved more frantically. The car kept going until it was out of sight. Had they seen she was in trouble? Probably not.

She had to do something; she couldn’t just drift out to sea.

She put the curled-up hat in the water on one side of the raft and her hand in the water on the other side and carefully paddled toward shore. After a few strokes, she realized she was staying where she was. She would have to paddle faster.

She paddled faster and saw she was making incremental progress. So, she paddled even faster and harder. It was tiring work and she was moving so slowly toward the beach. Fear that she was not going to make it filled her and she nearly threw up. She almost started crying, but fought that off and continued rowing.

Moments later, the shark struck. One second, she was paddling with the hat and the next second, the hat was ripped out of her hand. It shocked her so badly; she almost jumped out of the raft. She sat there with her arms wrapped around herself, shivering violently. She couldn’t move.

In a short time she calmed down, as much as she was able to. She thought of her life. It wasn’t great, but it was okay. She stared at her legs. There was nothing else to do, but slide off the raft and swim to shore.

Nothing else, she told herself.

She suspected she wasn’t thinking clearly, but there wasn’t time to come up with a better plan. Doing nothing was not an option. She rose to a sitting position and got ready to slip into the water. First, she said a prayer. Dear God, please help me. Pleasehelpme!

The sharks were swarming around the raft. It was now or never.

She started to lean to the side and roll when suddenly. . . a hand reached down and grabbed her arm and pulled her up into a boat!

She slid down into the slimy wet, fishy smelling bottom of the boat, banging her butt, back and elbows. She rolled over and came face to face with a huge shark. She screamed and jumped back, tripped and fell into crab traps, nets, and fishing gear.

A deep male laugh boomed above her. He’s dead.

She looked up, but couldn’t see his face with the sun in her eyes. She shaded her eyes with her hand and saw his strong-looking legs, flat belly, nice chest, and muscular arms. Still, she couldn’t see his face.

She was about to thank him, when all of a sudden, what she’d been through caught up to her. She turned to the side and threw up. When she was finished, he handed her a wet cloth to wipe her mouth. She saw she’d puked on the dead shark and jumped back, banging her leg on a crab trap. Her calf hurt a lot.

He laughed again, not meanly.

She turned to him, ready to tell him a thing or two. Who was he to laugh at someone who had almost been shark bait? He put his hand up and handed her a bottle of water. She stared at the bottle before taking it.

Her hands were shaking and she was too weak from what had happened to open it. After several tries, he took it from her, twisted off the cap and gave it back. She rinsed out her mouth.

You’re welcome, he said.

With the bottle touching her lips she stopped. Oh, I’m so sorry. Thank you so much for. . . . She started to feel pukey again and stopped. The fishy smell of the dead shark assaulted her.

Drink first, he said, talk later.

She nodded and drank from the bottle. He reached over the side of the small boat and retrieved her raft, then held it in the air for her to see. It was only half there. The rest had been bitten off, ripped away. Shreds of plastic hung from it. He tossed it into the bottom of the boat.

Can’t litter, he said.

She got shakily to her feet and stumbled to a padded seat. The padded seat was hot, but she didn’t mind.

Are you okay? He sounded genuinely concerned.

I will be. She looked at his face. His eyes were so dark brown, they were almost black. He hadn’t shaved in days, but he was so handsome she didn’t know what to say. He had been speaking, but she had missed it. Excuse me, what did you say?

Where would you like to go?

She felt her heart fluttering. Oh my God, not now.

Excuse me?

Where would you like me to take you?

She didn’t trust her voice and pointed.

He looked at where she pointed, became confused, and turned back to her.

You want to go to the Bahamas?

She looked at where she had pointed and saw only open water. She quickly turned around and saw the beach a hundred yards away. There. She pointed at her blue beach towel. On the beach above the towel was white sand, then the wooden steps, then the road. Other houses lined the other side of the road. She couldn’t see her brother’s house from here.

Okay. He stepped behind the transom, started the engine, the big Honda outboard roared gently and he headed to shore.

She looked around at the boat, covered with fishing gear.

What type of boat is this? she said, just to be making conversation.

A Boston Whaler.

She surveyed the fishing gear again. He must be a fisherman.

You didn’t hear me calling to you? he said.

No, she said. The sharks had me so scared.

He was so handsome she didn’t know what to say. They were going to the shore quickly. Was he going to drop her off and that would be the end of it?

You live around here? he said.

Just visiting, she said.

It seemed like he wanted to say something, but didn’t know what to say. Just her luck; she’d meet someone shy. What were the odds of that? Or maybe he was just a gentleman not imposing on her. She didn’t know.

Then he moved a lever and the engine slowed and the boat went slower. They were almost at the shore. She had to say something and say it now.

You must let me thank you.

You did.

I mean repay you. She thought about what she’d said and almost winced. She had put it wrong. What was the matter with her?

Don’t worry about it.

I mean you were so nice, went out of your way.

It was nothing. He smiled at her and her heart melted. I couldn’t let you get eaten by sharks. He winked at her and smiled. Tourists are not on the menu today.

She put her hand over her mouth, in case she got sick again.

Now he put the engine in reverse to slow it down, and the bow gently touched the shore. He was over the side and into the shallow water so quickly it surprised her. Was he in that big a rush to get rid of her? Did he have a girlfriend or wife?

He stood in the water waiting. It was a moment before she realized he was waiting to help her out of the boat.

She stepped to the side, sat on the edge, and swung her feet into the water. She tried to figure out how to get out of the boat and not look like an idiot. She didn’t want to jump and fall face first. Suddenly he lifted her up off the side and carried her to shore. He was so strong and so gentle it astounded her.

He set her down on the dry sand, and then looked at her.

Thank you, she said wanting to wrap her arms around him and hug him, but he turned away and walked back to his boat.

She watched him walk away. Would she ever see him again? It came as a shock to her that she wanted to see him again.

You must let me thank you, she said and winced. That sounded so cheesy she didn’t know what he’d think.

You already did, he said, standing in the water, holding the bow rope so the boat wouldn’t drift away.

She tried to think of something. She didn’t want him to leave without getting to know him a little more even though a little more would probably show he wasn’t for her; it usually did. Maybe she could invite him over for dinner. Then she thought of her sister-in-law’s cooking and the kids. If that didn’t chase him away, Diane’s nosy questions would.

How about dinner?

He turned to her.

My treat, she said.

He paused as if unsure what to say.

Bring your wife or girlfriend, she quietly added.

He laughed and shook his head. Nope. Neither.

Where do you like to eat? she said. Got a favorite place?

He thought a moment and shook his head. You really don’t have to.

She saw she was losing him and thought of the place Peter liked.

How about the Outback?

He looked slightly confused. Did he think it