Chapter 25

July 28th, 2023

Lincoln City, OR

9:00 AM

Marcia slept in a bit, but woke up to the smell of coffee. Lazily, she sat up and looked around the bedroom. Obviously, Darryl had gotten up a fair bit earlier than her. She distinctly remembered not caring overly much about where her t-shirt, shorts, and undergarments landed before she lay down, but now they were not on the floor, where logic said they must have landed when she and Darryl collaborated in their removal.

Somehow the sheet and blanket had ended up covering her, however. She was quite certain that was not how she’d gone to sleep. Actually, she wasn’t entirely certain they had even been on the bed once she and Darryl got in… or on the bed. Things had gotten somewhat vigorous after that.

The B&B house had 2 bedrooms and a hide-a-bed in the living room, and they had taken the room that had a sliding garden door that opened to a deck, with a beautiful view of the Pacific Ocean.

The houses were built on a very steep hill, and each one had a wonderful view over the roof of the one in front of it. There were two houses closer to the beach than the Chatham house, but neither was close enough to see into the bedroom where Marcia lay. There were very thin curtains over the garden doors, but they would be hard pressed to block the view of anyone changing in the room with a light on.

Nevertheless, the only one who could see into the room at all, would be someone on a boat with a spyglass from a distance of at least three miles. Marcia felt safe getting up and pulling on some clothes.

She made a pit stop by the restroom, then padded barefoot into the living room. She could see that there was no one there, nor in the kitchen, and she wondered where Darryl was.

The deck outside their bedroom continued outside the front of the house, and the only door outside that didn’t lead onto the deck was the garden door leading out from the living room. She glanced that way and saw her husband sitting at the table outside. As she watched, he lifted a cup to his lips and took a drink.

She remembered what woke her up. Turning, she went into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of the fragrant liquid, then made her way outside and sat down beside Darryl after giving him a happy and contented kiss.

July 28^th, 2023

Palmer, AK

1:12 PM

Mage opened the door to the therapist’s clinic. She was taking Sammy to see Sonja Winters for the third time, and she was starting to like the woman as well. Sonja knew that Mage and Marcia were both trans, she was sure. When people are over the age of 18 or get their names in the paper, or both… Well, secrets are no longer secret. Mage hadn’t officially confirmed it about Marcia to Sonja. There really didn’t seem to be any need to.

When Sonja came out of her office, she talked to Mage briefly, and then she and Sammy started in on a talk and making some slime while Mage went to the waiting room. Sammy loved slime. It wasn’t something that either Mage or Chet had encouraged, as it could damage carpet, and other surfaces in a house, quite thoroughly, but they had let him play with it at home after his last meeting with Sonja, and he had loved it. Mage had to admit, there was something mesmerizing about the feel of it through a Ziplock^© bag.

When they were done, Sonja escorted the little boy to the waiting room, where he excitedly showed his mom the green slime, complete with glitter and tiny foil stars in it. Mage was sure that her daughter would want to make some, so she asked Sonja the recipe for it.

“I’ll email it to you,” Sonja told her. “I was wondering how the newlyweds are doing?”

“We know they made it to Lincoln City, but they’re in seclusion now,” Mage answered.

“Lincoln City is a nice place,” Sonja said. “My parents had a time-share down there, so I’ve been there several times. So has Stephen. It’s getting more and more crowded though.”

“We bought a B&B near the beach,” Mage said, nodding. “Judge Matthews and Sylvia stayed there a while back, and told us it was for sale. We bought it on the strength of their recommendation. We haven’t seen it yet.”

“Is that where Darryl and Marcia are?”

“Yeah. We hired a cleaning service in the town to take care of it after guests leave. I hope they’re doing a good job,” she laughed, “otherwise my brother and his wife aren’t gonna be too happy with us.”

Sonja laughed as well. “From what you’ve told me, it seems as if your entire family is one to let bygones be bygones.”

“True, but I wouldn’t want to be responsible for any of their honeymoon being any less than spectacular.”

“It’s a honeymoon and they’re high school sweethearts, Mage. It will be spectacular one way or another.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“And there’s lots of things to do in the area,” Sonja told her. “A nice beach, quaint restaurants, and gift shops up and down the coast.”

Mage laughed. "I doubt they'll see much of that."

Again Sonja joined in the laughing. "You're probably right."

“Do you still get down to Oregon?” Mage asked.

“No, I don’t,” Sonja responded. “Stephen goes, but he goes alone now.”

“He used to take Gerald?”

“Sometimes he did. Other times, he just went by himself. He said he enjoyed the alone time.”

-=#=-

July 28^th, 2023

Oregon Coast

3:00 PM

Darryl carefully backed the Mustang out of the garage and onto the street, then he guided it down to the beach, whereupon they caught the 101 and headed south to explore the restaurants they’d heard of.

Before they got very far, Marcia spotted a truck parked beside one of the B&Bs. It proclaimed that it was from a cleaning service, and she took a picture, zoomed in so she could read the phone number. She wanted to double check, but she was pretty sure it was the one that was cleaning the Chatham house.

Down the road, they found a local diner with a sign proclaiming their clam chowder was “so thick you can cut it with a knife”.

“How’s that sound?” Darryl asked Marcia. They both loved thick and creamy New England clam chowder. They agreed it sounded good, so they pulled in.

The inside was filled with fishing equipment, complete with a net draped by its four corners from the ceiling. It appeared to be made from hemp rope and there were more, smaller nets hanging on the walls, as well as dried starfish, clam and oyster shells, and other denizens of the deep. The smell was a mixture of several different seafoods, each one tantalizing enough to make one’s mouth water.

There wasn’t anyone in the building except for an old, grizzled man wearing old sea fishing gear. He had a black stocking cap on his head, and a silver beard streaked with some black.

“Sit anywhere ya like,” the man said as he stood up, and using a cane, he hobbled over to the counter. He pulled a couple of paper menus from a holder by the cash register, put them on a wheeled cart along with a couple of water glasses and cutlery wrapped in paper napkins, and then slowly made his way over to their table, his cane left on a hook behind the register.

He pulled a lever on the cart and engaged a brake. Holding onto the handle with one hand, he set out the cutlery and water, then handed each a menu.

“Nice day out there, eh?” he asked. He pronounced the word ‘out’ sort of in between ‘owt’ and ‘oat’. “I’m Dan. Dan Green.”

“Yes, it is,” Marcia agreed. “I’m Marcia Johnson, and this is my husband, Darryl.” She was thrilled to use her married name.

The old man gave a smile. “Where ya all from?” he asked.

“Anchorage, Alaska,” Darryl said. “And you?”

“Would you believe me if I said I’ve lived here all my life?” he asked, a twinkle in his eye.

“With an Eastern Canadian accent?” Marcia asked. “How’d you arrange that?”

He grinned amiably. “Didn’t figure you would.” He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “The specials are on the sign there. Got a Surf and Turf for ten dollars a plate. I’ve also got a Calamari for thirteen. Crab is thirty-nine, ninety-nine and Lobster is ten again, more. Market price, ya know.”

“What’s the surf?” asked Darryl.

“Waddaya want it to be?” countered the old man.

“Can you do Calamari?” asked Marcia.

He laughed. “You want me to do calamari and steak for ten dollars rather than calamari alone for thirteen?”

“Well, you asked what we wanted the surf to be.”

He laughed again. “I’ll tell ya what, Young Lady. I don’ normally do the calamari in the steak, but ya seem like a nice couple.” Marcia had sat beside Darryl in the booth rather than across from him. “I’ll do ya up a special. How about a Surf and Turf for two. Twenty Dollars.”

“How’s that a special?” she asked. “That’s the price of two meals.”

“Ah, but in this one, I’ll put calamari, and throw in a cup a chowder for ya both.”

Darryl looked at Marcia and said, “If that chowder is thick enough to cut, I’d pay twenty just for it.”

“Hey!” Marcia exclaimed. “Don’t give him any ideas!”

“Surf and Turf for two – Thirty it is!” the old man said, giving Darryl a wink.

“Sounds good,” Darryl said laughing.

“Howdaya like your steak?”

They answered and the old man stood and slowly made his way back to the kitchen where they heard him bang pots and pans around. A thick aroma of steak and the sound of sizzling came from the kitchen.

“Either of you not want mushrooms and onions?” he called from the kitchen.

“We both love them!” Marcia called back, her eyes dancing at the easy camaraderie in the diner.

“I hope you don’ min’ butter!”

“Not a bit!” Darryl called back.

“Whaddaya wanna drink?”

“Two unsweetened iced teas, please!” Marcia called. She had to cover her mouth to keep from bursting out laughing.

It was a few minutes later that the man carried out two plates. He set a smaller one on the counter where he’d been sitting when they came in, and then carried the larger one to the table where they sat. He carefully put the plate in front of them, along with a large bowl of chowder. “I gave you a bit more chowder,” he told them, smiling. “I think you’ll like it.”

He put one more bowl, full of oyster crackers, on the table and after placing the tea, made his way back to the counter. “You all want an extra plate or bowl?” he asked before sitting back down.

“Nah!” Marcia said.

“When we started dating, I learned my own plate would never be my own again,” Darryl told him.

“How long ya been married?”

“Just since Saturday.”

“Really? Well congratulations!”

The food was as delicious as it smelled, and while the chowder couldn’t literally be cut with a knife, there was a good chance that you could turn the bowl upside down and it wouldn’t spill.

At the cash register, Darryl told Dan, “I’ve gotta tell you. That’s the best chowder I’ve tasted.”

Dan smiled and grabbed two quart jars from the shelves behind him. They had a paper label affixed to them with a picture of Dan and the logo, Green’s Chowder above it. “On the house,” he said. “Consider it a weddin’ present.”

“Thanks!” Darryl said, and meant it. “I think it’s safe to say we’ll be back before we head back to Alaska.”

Dan chuckled. “I look forward to it.”

At the door, Marcia turned and asked, “Where are you from, anyway?”

In an absolutely flawless Texas accent, he answered. “Houston, Ma'am."