She was a mother. She had never thought of herself as a mother. Mothers were strong and patient, mature and diligent, often harried and worry marked. I'm a fool, she thought. I should not be a mother, anybody's mother. I'm a fool. The infant squirmed and waved her tiny hands. Elizabeth bent and kissed her round, veined head. I am a mother, and I don't know how to be one. She wept and slowly rocked. Help, she silently prayed, help me, help me.About a week later, while she was nursing her daughter and enjoying the still-strange wonder of that oddly stimulating experience, Elizabeth suddenly thought of Matthew. She wondered why and after searching her memory, recalled Miranda's annoying and endless questions. How had Miranda known about him? Elizabeth believed she had never talked about Matt, not even to Jenny. At times she had all but forgotten his existence, especially while she made love to Andrew and fought off Walter's randy attentions. It had been two years since those burials at. I found out that she (the boat) was, a 1982, thirty-nine foot sloop rigged for speed. He asked if I had sailed before, so I ran through my few adventures in Rhode Island with Ken Parson and my adventures in Chicago and Idaho. I enjoyed it, but I knew that I wasn't the greatest at it. He took the helm while I manned the lines to get us out of the slip, and then out of the marina. There was a nice breeze, so we picked up some speed. Although there were a few other boats out, it wasn't too crowded. After we had the sails trimmed, I moved back next to Will, where he taught me some things about the boat and sailing. He explained what he was thinking about and watching for in the sailing of the boat, and making course decisions. In a sailboat, there's much more planning, and knowing what specific things he needs to watch for to make the proper sailing decisions.It was just like learning the rules of the road when you're learning to drive, except we were out on the water. "Watch out for the.
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