Winston looked much younger in the portrait, and all
of his good qualities had been highlighted by the
artist,
"She was very beautiful, Winston." Mommy said.
He nodded. I wondered if this was the first time she had seen the picture.
He snapped out of his reverie quickly and smiled at Mommy. "I like to surround myself with beautiful things." he said.
"We can see that, can't we. Grace?"
"Yes." I said, noticing how he fixed his gaze on Mommy and she looked coyly back.
"We'll show you the rest of the house later. Grace," he said. "Let's get to the yacht now so we can go to one of my favorite places on the coast where we'll have our lunch. If you're good," he kidded, "I'll have the captain let you steer."
"Really?"
Mommy laughed and put her arm around my shoulders as we stepped out onto the loggia and I panned the rear of the estate. The pool was as big and as beautiful as she had described. There was a cabana behind it I saw the private beach, the umbrellas and tables. Here there were also more gardens with people attending to the flowers. Off to the left was the socalled beach house, which to me looked like a small apartment
And then there was the dock and the yacht. I had imagined a boat like Roger's, but this was so big it took my breath away. It looked more like a small cruise ship. How could one man own all this?
Now you see why I was laughing when you said 'picnic on a boat,"' Mommy told me, observing my big eyes.
"Our picnic boat is ninety-four feet long," Winston began as we started toward the dock. "It has three decks. At the top we have the wet bar, the flybridge, and the aft deck. You know what that means.
"Yes," I said.
"That's right. I keep forgetting you were a naval family," he said. smiling.
We still are, I thought. Daddy used to say it was in his blood, so it was in mine,
"On the second level we have the dining room and the main salon, and on the third level we have the three bedrooms, the master stateroom. a VIP stateroom, which you can consider yours today, if you like, and a double stateroom for guests. That cockpit you see contains the pilot house, and that's Captain Gene. He's been with me ever since I bought the yacht."
"Are you sailing all the time?" I asked, and he laughed.
"No, no. When I'm not using it, I lease it out to a very select list of clients. It doesn't come close to paving for it. I'm afraid," he said, smiling at Mommy.
Besides the captain, a tall, lean man with a face leathered by years at sea, there were two other crewmen. Everyone was introduced, and we took a tour of the yacht.
"All the rooms, with the exception of the pilot house, of course, were designed and decorated for me by Giovanni Marcella." Winston said.
Mommy widened her eyes and nodded, but I could see she didn't know any more about this Giovanni Marcella than I did.
"He's done everyone's yachts down here and in Monte Carlo," Winston continued. He spoke nonchalantly about it, not sounding like someone putting on airs. I thought. "I was too busy to go interviewing and comparing designers. I left that up to my wife. It was one of the last big things she did," he said, not hiding his sadness. I liked that because it told me he wasn't ashamed to express in front of another woman just how much he had cared for her and how much he still missed her.
"She made an excellent choice," Mommy said.
He smiled. "Yes, we've always been
complimented."
When we stepped into the galley, there were two women preparing our lunch. Now I really felt foolish calling it a picnic.
"This is Louisa, my chef, captain of the kitchen." he cried, and a short woman with black hair invaded by gray strands turned to beam a smile at us. She had a very soft, friendly face with eyes as black as her hair. Her cheeks were rosy and plump, and she had a slight cleft in her chin.
"I'm no captain, Mr. Montgomery, just a cook," she gently chastised.