And he had never said it to her, but it concerned him that he was twenty years older than she was. She was young enough to be his daughter, which seemed ridiculous to him. He never felt their age difference, but he had had his life, his children, his career, his marriage, and now he felt he had to atone for his sins. Indulging himself with a woman two-thirds his age, and dragging her around the world with him seemed as selfish as what he had done to Jane, and the egocentric life he had led, for which Alex could not forgive him. He knew he was doing the right thing in setting Maggie free when he left, and promising her nothing. If anything, he was going to urge her to forget him. His mind was full of thoughts of her, his heart eased with the warmth of her next to him, but he said nothing to her.

He was already up and dressed when she awoke the next morning. They had left the dock at eight o'clock, and the Molly B was already sailing. It was a bright June day, and as Maggie got up, it was odd to realize that she had woken up in Amsterdam the previous morning. She smiled to herself, thinking of it, like a delicious dream, and went to join Quinn on deck in her robe and nightgown.

“Good lord, what time is it? Where am I?” she asked as she squinted at him in the sunshine. Her tousled hair cascaded down her back, just the way he liked it. She looked scarcely older than his daughter, and wasn't. There were only eight years between Maggie and Alex, but Maggie seemed an entire generation older. She had suffered a great deal in her lifetime, particularly in recent years, which made her seem far more mature, and a great deal wiser, and more compassionate certainly, than his daughter.

“It's ten o'clock. This is San Francisco Bay, you'll notice the Golden Gate straight ahead, and I'm Quinn Thompson,” he teased her.

“Hello. I'm Maggie Dartman.” She played the game with him. “Didn't I meet you in Amsterdam? You're the owner of that fabulous yacht, Vol de Nuit.… or was I dreaming?” It all seemed like a dream now, but it wasn't.

“You must have been dreaming,” he assured her. The stewardess asked Maggie what she'd like for breakfast, and Maggie smiled at how spoiled she was getting. She turned to Quinn with a grin. “To think, I used to eat Hostess Twinkies and leftover hot dogs for breakfast.”

“Don't ever invite me over for breakfast. I'll stick to dinner.” He grinned at her.

“Good decision,” she said, as the stewardess handed her a cappuccino just the way she liked it. The crew of the Molly B were terrific. It was going to be tough getting used to real life again, when Quinn was gone. Because of the man, not the breakfast.

Quinn had already begun hiring his crew for Vol de Nuit. One was Italian, two were French, and the other seven crew members were British. He had hired John Barclay's captain from the Victory, after a letter he had received from him in April, asking if there might be a position for him. He had been following Vol de Nuit's progress with interest. Quinn had offered him the job as captain by return fax, and followed it up with a phone call. The man's name was Sean Mackenzie, and he was arriving in Amsterdam with the rest of the crew just before the sea trials in September. They were on schedule so far.

Maggie sat next to Quinn at the helm of the Molly B for the rest of the afternoon, and they got back to the dock at three o'clock, in time for Quinn to meet with his attorney. And before they left the boat, they agreed to spend the night on her again that evening. Both the boat and the man were becoming a dangerous habit for Maggie. The more time she spent with him, the harder it would be to see him leave in the beginning of October. He was coming back to San Francisco one last time after the sea trials, and then, she knew, it would be over. But she wouldn't allow herself to think of it, she had promised him that when he left, she would let him go without a murmur, and she had every intention of keeping her promise, no matter how hard for her, or how painful his absence. He was a gift that had come into her life unexpectedly, and when the gift was taken from her, as she knew it would be, she was going to be both gracious and graceful about it. It was all Quinn had ever asked of her, and she owed him that, or felt she did. It seemed to be her destiny to lose those she loved, to let them leave her life, no matter how costly to her.

“Are you all right?” Quinn asked her quietly, as one of the crew members drove them home, and she nodded. “You're very quiet.” He had sensed something in her silence, and he wasn't wrong, but she had no intention of sharing her thoughts with him about his departure.

“Just jet-lagged,” she said, smiling. “How about you?”

“I'm fine.” He was still ecstatic over his visit to Vol de Nuit, and invigorated by it. “I wish I didn't have to meet with the attorney. I should be home by seven.” They had left their bags on the boat, so she had nothing to unpack, and little to do until he came back to get her. Her life was very simple now, although she knew it would be busier once she went back to teaching in September. She was going back to work around the same time he left for the sea trials.

Jack was at the house when Quinn walked in, just finishing some work in the kitchen, and when he saw Quinn, he looked mournful.

“Something wrong?” Quinn asked with a worried frown, and Jack shook his head. He looked awful.

“I just finished.”

“Finished what?” Quinn asked, looking for his briefcase with the legal folders in it.

“Everything,” Jack said, and Quinn stopped and looked at him.

“Everything?” They had dragged it out as long as they could. He had been there for six months, and not only was the house impeccable in every detail, but he had become a proficient reader.

“It's all done,” Jack confirmed. “We did it.”

“No,” Quinn said with a slow smile, as he looked at the man who had become his friend, and to whom he had become not only teacher, but mentor. “You did it. And don't you forget that.” He walked across the room toward him and shook his hand. “We're going to have to celebrate.” And Quinn meant it.

“Can I still come to dinner on Friday evenings?” He couldn't even imagine not seeing Quinn daily.

“I have a better idea. Let's talk about it in the morning. Why don't you come by for breakfast?” And then he remembered that he was going to be on the boat with Maggie. And he wanted to spend the day sailing. “I just realized I won't be here. Why don't you come for dinner on the boat on Friday night?” Jack knew where the boat was docked at the yacht club.

“Could I bring Michelle with me?” The girl he had been dating for a while had become a serious romance for him, and they were inseparable, but Quinn was hoping she was only a passing fancy. He had an important proposition to make him.

“Of course.” And then Quinn thought of something. “Does she know about our special project?” Quinn didn't want to embarrass him in case she didn't.

“You mean my reading?” Quinn nodded. “I just told her. I was afraid she'd think less of me, but she thought it was terrific.”

“I like her already.” Quinn had not yet met her, but knew now that he would on Friday.

“How was Amsterdam?”

“Impeccable. Everything is going along at full speed. The boat looks splendid.” And then as an afterthought, between the two men, “I took Maggie with me.”

“I thought that might be where she was. She's been gone all week. I wasn't sure though.” The two men exchanged a long look, and Jack's eyes held a single silent question, and Quinn understood him.

He shook his head. “No. Nothing's changed. She understands. She knows I'm leaving.”

Jack sighed as he looked at him. He had learned a lot from Quinn in the past six months, but now he thought it was Quinn who needed to learn the lesson. “Someone like that doesn't come into your life every day, Quinn…. Whatever you do, don't lose her.”

“I never had her,” Quinn said quietly. “Just as she doesn't have me. People never ‘have.’ each other.” Jane had never had him, never, or at least not until after she died. And he had only found her after he lost her. He was fully prepared to give up what he had found with Maggie, and take the best of her with him, in the memories he would have of her. He didn't need more than that. He was convinced of it. “I'm too old to be romantic,” Quinn said as though trying to convince himself, “or to be tied to the skirts of a woman. She understands that.”

“I think you're throwing away something precious,” Jack said doggedly, and Maggie would have been profoundly touched if she'd heard him.

“I'm going to give it back, Jack. That's different.” Jack shook his head as Quinn picked up his briefcase and smiled at him. “See you on Friday.” It was in two days, and Quinn was looking forward to it. He had no intention of giving up their Fridays, and wondered if Jack would want to bring Michelle with him every week, or keep it a threesome. Although Quinn was willing to welcome her into the group, he also loved the intimacy of the three friends, and was leaving it up to Jack.

“Think about what I said,” Jack called after him, as Quinn ignored him and closed the door firmly behind him.





11


MICHELLE AND JACK APPEARED ON THE DOCK PROMPTLY at seven o'clock on Friday, and Maggie and Quinn were ready for them. The crew offered them champagne, and there were balloons and lanterns hanging on the afterdeck. It looked like a party. Quinn and Maggie had put the decorations up themselves. They had said nothing to Jack, but it was his graduation. Quinn had gotten a diploma for him and filled it out carefully with his name and the date, and had referred to him as a successful scholar. It took Jack only a moment to realize what was happening, and he was moved to tears when, at the end of dinner, Quinn handed him his diploma. Maggie had had a chance to chat with Michelle by then and was pleased to find that she liked her.