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Every time the ship docked somewhere there would be a cocktail party for the local dignitaries. It was the duty of all officers to entertain these people, usually with the assistance of the local consulate or embassy. My first Captain explained the skill of asking questions until you found a subject that the guest was interested in, and then using follow-up questions to keep the conversation going. I had mastered the skill and learned enough to ask sensible questions and look interested. People always left feeling that I was as well informed as they were, about the things that interested them. It also proved an effective device to entice some of the more attractive guests to my berth.Diane responded easily to my questions, and I was able to keep conversation flowing. There were none of the dry silences where each of us strained, searching for something to talk about. Since this was ostensibly a thank-you to me for my assistance after the accident, there was no expectation and we each. "Can I come in?" she called."Sure," I said so weakly that I had to swallow and repeat it louder. The door creaked open, and she sat beside me."I'm sorry," I said without looking up."Hey," she said tenderly, lifting my head by my chin, "you didn't do anything wrong. Don't be sorry." Not only was she not angry, for which I was relieved, but she was sitting next to me wearing her short robe. (I know. I couldn't help it, OK?) My eyes touched on hers, then looked down again, conveniently affording me a look at her long, bare legs, which led into the darkness only inches away beneath the robe."Okay?" her voice broke in. "It was only an accident. Don't be sorry. Besides," and she shifted her bent knees away from me, as if she were going to leave, "nudity is nothing to be ashamed of." She grabbed my chin again."Look at me," she ordered. "Haven't you ever seen a naked woman?" I shook my head, my eyes fixed on hers. "Not even your mother?" she asked, and snickered knowingly when I signaled.
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