"Victor," Lorrie cries out. "Over here."
I bring a hand to my forehead to block out the nonexistent light that's blinding me. "Yes? Hello?"
"Victor," they both cry out in unison, just yards away. "Over here!"
I start limping as if in pain. "Jovially," I hold out a hand, but then I gasp, grimacing and reaching down to massage my ankle.
"Victor, we wondered where you were for dinner," Lorrie says. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, you were sorely missed," Stephen adds. "Is something wrong with your leg?"
"Well, I fell asleep," I start. "I was also, um, expecting a... phone call, but I... fell asleep."
Pause. "Did you get your call?" Lorrie asks semi-worriedly.
"Oh yes," I say. "So now everything's fine."
"But what happened to your leg?"
"Well, when I was reaching over for the phone... it, well, I accidentally fell off the chair I'd been sitting, er, sleeping in and then, well, while reaching for the phone... it actually fell and struck my"-a really long pause-"knee."
Another really long pause. No one says anything.
"So then I tried to stand up-all this while speaking into the phone -and then I actually tripped over the chair... by the TV..." I stop to let them interrupt.
Finally Stephen says, "That must have been quite a scene."
Picturing how ridiculous this scenario seems, I delicately reexplain: "Actually I handled it all quite suavely."
Lorrie and Stephen both nod, assuring me they're certain that I did. The following is just basic exposition-these lines fall easily and rapidly into place-because I can see, in the distance, Marina, her back to me, standing at the railing, gazing out over the black ocean.
"Tomorrow night, Victor?" Lorrie suggests, shivering.
"Please, Victor," Stephen demands. "I insist you have dinner with us tomorrow night."
"Jeez, you guys are persistent. Okay, okay, tomorrow night," I say, staring at Marina. "Oh wait-I'm having dinner with someone else tomorrow night. How about next week?"
"But we'll be off the boat next week."