She and Dad met on the shore of Lake Michigan. He was hoisting the canvas on small craft, readying for a sail. She had her toes in the sand and she had questions!
“Isn’t it too rough for sailing today?”
“Why do you have a feather at the top of the mast?”
“Is it safe to sail alone?”
It was Dad’s silence that enticed her, caused her to inquire with more persistence. He sensed when her queries had ceased, and replied simply, “You should join me." He wiped his forehead. "It’s actually the perfect day for a sail.”
She was mildly flustered. She asked only for answers, but got an invitation.
Still, somehow, she sensed that this man was trustworthy. She liked his muscles. She liked his hair and the way that he brought her into an unexpected adventure—her first sail.
They stumbled—a little uncoordinated—through their first nautical miles together, their first two hours of conversation. But both knew immediately that they had met someone fascinating.
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