he had won
another round of pool and was looking for a new challenger. To his
surprise a willowy brunette smiled at him as she picked up a cue
from the rack on the wall.
“Melanie Aucoin,” she said, shaking his
hand.
“Josh Beaton,” he replied.
He was immediately drawn to her warm
brown eyes and mischievous smile. The challenge was on!
It was unusual to see a female pool
player. However, it soon became obvious that Melanie knew how to
play pool. It didn't take long before there were a few bets going
around. Josh was playing well, but he was beginning to sweat.
Melanie won the first game, he won the second. The third round was
neck-and-neck until his cue slipped and brushed against the 8-ball,
which oh so slowly made its way into the right side pocket.
“Damn!” he said, looking up at Melanie
with his lop-sided smile.
Money exchanged hands amid cheers and
laughter. Josh walked up to Melanie and bowed, offering his cue,
much as a defeated knight would relinquish his sword.
Melanie laughed and offered to buy him
a beer.
Josh replied, “Never mind the
consolation prize. Let me buy you a victory drink!”
Josh was surprised when Melanie
finished her beer and headed for the stage. A fiddler and bass
player were already setting up. He expected her to sit at the piano
and was delighted when she opened a black case and pulled out a
large accordion. For the next 40 minutes the place was jumping as
the trio went from one lively Cajun tune to the other. Melanie kept
time with her feet, occasionally flashing her bright smile his way.
He was smitten.
From then on, instead of going home
after work, he often ended up at her small apartment over the
Acadian Restaurant. She, in turn, spent most of her weekends at his
place. They explored the back roads in his Ford pick-up truck and
went for long hikes in the Highlands. When summer came, Josh set up
a permanent tent on Cheticamp Island, where they spent many
evenings swimming in the clear cool waters. He often sat on the
rocks at the end of the long sandy beach gazing at the waves
glinting in the setting sun. Slowly, over time, he found himself
opening up to Melanie, letting her in on his private terrors. She
knew better not to push these moments of intimacy, offering an open
ear and a kind heart, rather than misplaced advice.
One of the summer visitors put his
Tanzer 25 up for sale and Josh decided to buy it. He had sailed
with his grandfather as a boy and in no time he found his sea legs
again. This was completely different from being on a submarine. He
felt in control and, keeping an eye on the tides and the weather,
he was no longer filled with anxiety. Instead, the open sea gave
him an exhilarating sense of freedom.
When she wasn't working at the local
hospital, Melanie often accompanied him on these outings. She
proudly stepped aboard the Melanie Jane and was learning the
ropes. At first she sat back and watched Josh handle the boat on
his own. She screamed with equal parts fear and excitement when the
boat heeled in high winds. Eventually though, she learned to hold
the tiller while Josh brought down the mainsail and to pull in the
jib while tacking.
One Sunday late in June, Josh headed
out on his own. Once out of the harbour he headed south. The wind
was light and gulls followed him offshore on this bright sunny
afternoon. He intended to sail to Inverness if the wind was
favourable. He didn't quite make it, although he had a great
afternoon's sail. By 4 p.m. he pulled in his jib and tacked on a
course heading back to Cheticamp. He noticed a bank of fog coming
in from the southwest and hoped to reach port before it overtook
him. An hour later the wind died down and he was enveloped in a
thick, grey fog. Out of nowhere, a big swell tipped his sailboat
off course. By the time she was back upright, he had lost all sense
of direction.
He chose not to turn on his motor,
afraid to waste precious fuel going in the wrong direction. There
was nothing to do but sit tight and
another round of pool and was looking for a new challenger. To his
surprise a willowy brunette smiled at him as she picked up a cue
from the rack on the wall.
“Melanie Aucoin,” she said, shaking his
hand.
“Josh Beaton,” he replied.
He was immediately drawn to her warm
brown eyes and mischievous smile. The challenge was on!
It was unusual to see a female pool
player. However, it soon became obvious that Melanie knew how to
play pool. It didn't take long before there were a few bets going
around. Josh was playing well, but he was beginning to sweat.
Melanie won the first game, he won the second. The third round was
neck-and-neck until his cue slipped and brushed against the 8-ball,
which oh so slowly made its way into the right side pocket.
“Damn!” he said, looking up at Melanie
with his lop-sided smile.
Money exchanged hands amid cheers and
laughter. Josh walked up to Melanie and bowed, offering his cue,
much as a defeated knight would relinquish his sword.
Melanie laughed and offered to buy him
a beer.
Josh replied, “Never mind the
consolation prize. Let me buy you a victory drink!”
Josh was surprised when Melanie
finished her beer and headed for the stage. A fiddler and bass
player were already setting up. He expected her to sit at the piano
and was delighted when she opened a black case and pulled out a
large accordion. For the next 40 minutes the place was jumping as
the trio went from one lively Cajun tune to the other. Melanie kept
time with her feet, occasionally flashing her bright smile his way.
He was smitten.
From then on, instead of going home
after work, he often ended up at her small apartment over the
Acadian Restaurant. She, in turn, spent most of her weekends at his
place. They explored the back roads in his Ford pick-up truck and
went for long hikes in the Highlands. When summer came, Josh set up
a permanent tent on Cheticamp Island, where they spent many
evenings swimming in the clear cool waters. He often sat on the
rocks at the end of the long sandy beach gazing at the waves
glinting in the setting sun. Slowly, over time, he found himself
opening up to Melanie, letting her in on his private terrors. She
knew better not to push these moments of intimacy, offering an open
ear and a kind heart, rather than misplaced advice.
One of the summer visitors put his
Tanzer 25 up for sale and Josh decided to buy it. He had sailed
with his grandfather as a boy and in no time he found his sea legs
again. This was completely different from being on a submarine. He
felt in control and, keeping an eye on the tides and the weather,
he was no longer filled with anxiety. Instead, the open sea gave
him an exhilarating sense of freedom.
When she wasn't working at the local
hospital, Melanie often accompanied him on these outings. She
proudly stepped aboard the Melanie Jane and was learning the
ropes. At first she sat back and watched Josh handle the boat on
his own. She screamed with equal parts fear and excitement when the
boat heeled in high winds. Eventually though, she learned to hold
the tiller while Josh brought down the mainsail and to pull in the
jib while tacking.
One Sunday late in June, Josh headed
out on his own. Once out of the harbour he headed south. The wind
was light and gulls followed him offshore on this bright sunny
afternoon. He intended to sail to Inverness if the wind was
favourable. He didn't quite make it, although he had a great
afternoon's sail. By 4 p.m. he pulled in his jib and tacked on a
course heading back to Cheticamp. He noticed a bank of fog coming
in from the southwest and hoped to reach port before it overtook
him. An hour later the wind died down and he was enveloped in a
thick, grey fog. Out of nowhere, a big swell tipped his sailboat
off course. By the time she was back upright, he had lost all sense
of direction.
He chose not to turn on his motor,
afraid to waste precious fuel going in the wrong direction. There
was nothing to do but sit tight and
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