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This is your half-birthday!"She said the last sentence louder than the others, and looked up over myhead.I turned to see what she was looking at.A cute barmaid wearing one of those mini-dress uniforms with a blacktee-top and a pleated, wine-colored skirt was almost to our table withour tall, frosty drinks balanced expertly on her tray. She stopped atthe side and picked up the martini and put it in front of me. I couldsee the tiny chips of ice floating above the olives. The barmaid pickedup the luscious pink cosmo to put it in front of Donna.Donna said, "Oh no, the cosmopolitan is for the birthday girl!"The barmaid adopted a confused expression and looked from Donna to meand back again, still holding the cosmo, not spilling a single drop.She was a pro. "Pardon me, ma'am?" The pink one," Donna said, "is for her," pointing at me, the personwith the furiously blushing face."Oh!" said the barmaid. "I'm sorry, I just assumed--" She giggled,realizing she had been caught in a moment. She stepped back into the cockpit, slipped it on, and stretched out in the sunshine on the weather side of the boat.Johannes watched the performance. It was not the first time he'd seen Helen's body; they had been lovers for some time, friends even longer. He slipped off his slacks. His shirt followed, leaving him in dark blue briefs that would pass for a bathing suit in any court.The breeze freshened, the boat heeled and Johannes moved to sit on the weather side, close to Helen. As they sailed along, he let his free hand brush her back. He trailed his fingers along her upper thighs, feeling the warmth and softness. She sighed and looked back at him.By now they were well out in the center of the lake. To the west were the shores, fields and hills of France. To the east, the mighty alps and Mont Blanc. For them, there was murmur of the water through which the ship drove on.Helen lay in the sunshine along the rail, feeling the heat of the sun — and her own heat — as Johannes caressed.
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