A loud knocking woke Andrew. He sat up to find himself in his cabin, still sitting in the chair where he had been reading. The book lay on the arm of the chair, his fingers marking the spot he’d last read. The glass of wine stood on the side table, unfinished since he’d fallen asleep.
Was it only a dream? Andrew was incredulous. Another knock at the cabin door snapped him out of his melancholy. He rose and walked to the door, swinging it wide open in anger, to find Mr. Taylor outside.
“What?” he snapped at the first mate.
“Um…” Mr. Taylor’s gaze dropped for a second, then back up to Andrew’s face, surprise, and shock registering in his expression.
Andrew looked down and realized he wore no shorts. Embarrassed, he slammed the door shut and searched his quarters, but the elusive garment
