by Mel McCoy
Ruth leaned back onto her heels to see what Loretta was looking at in the closet.
“Honestly, criminal, if you ask me,” Loretta continued. “I don’t understand how they expect us to live like this.” She shoved her clothes into the cramped closet, pushing them back as she attempted to close the door.
Ruth raised an eyebrow. “Where do you suppose I hang my clothes?”
“There’s some room left. Just don’t wrinkle my dresses. Though, judging by your bags”—Loretta eyed the single suitcase and carry-on Ruth had brought—“you don’t have that much anyway.” She skirted around Ruth, her massive feet crushing Ruth’s as she went.
“Ow!”
Loretta turned around. “Oops, sorry.”
“I’m sure you are.” Ruth grabbed her bag, slinging it onto her own bed. She plopped down, taking her shoe off to assess the damage. “You could have broken my big toe!” she said, rubbing it.
“I said I was sorry. If you haven’t noticed, this room isn’t built for a woman of my stature.” Loretta waved her hands in the air, as if to prove her point.
“How tall are you, anyway?”
“Five-foot-nine and a half.”
“You seem taller.” Ruth continued rubbing her toe.
“It’s the heels I’m wearing.” She pulled her foot up to show Ruth. “My mother was taller than my dad. They were an odd pair, but they didn’t care. I guess that’s what happens when you’re in love. You don’t see nor care about those kinds of things.” Loretta swatted the air. “Anyway, I can only assume I got it from my mom.” She continued unpacking. “Maybe you should get some ice, so your foot doesn’t swell,” she added, glancing over her shoulder at Ruth, who was still caring for her toe.
Ruth lifted an eyebrow. “Thanks for the tip.”
Loretta closed her now empty suitcase. “Well, as much as I would love to continue this riveting conversation, I’d like to get the rest of my stuff put away and get ready for orientation.”
Ruth agreed. Orientation was scheduled in the mess hall for all the cooks and chefs on board the ship. Everyone had been instructed to meet there in their uniforms at 10:30 a.m. sharp for their assignments. She slipped her shoe back on, ignoring the throbbing; it was already beginning to ease a bit. Fishing out her clothes, she unrolled them and refolded them before placing them into the drawer. On top of the drawer, she added a single framed picture of her husband, Larry, and her sweet granddaughters, Sarah and Emma. It was a gift they had all given her when she’d learned that she had gotten the job of her dreams.
“A reminder that we will always be with you,” her husband had told her as he gave her a peck on her cheek. She’d hugged them all for the precious gift and vowed that she would display it in her room so she could look at it every day she was gone.
The picture also included a grinning golden retriever named Rugby, who never missed a chance to photobomb a picture. She smiled at the sight of her special family, who were still back at Cascade Cove, managing the pet boutique by the beach. She already missed them terribly.
After adjusting the picture to her liking, she pulled out her makeup bag. She rummaged through it, taking out her favorite tube of ruby-red lipstick, something that always cheered her up. A lovely shade of lipstick to contrast her brilliant porcelain skin. Heels, scarves, bags—these accessories had always lifted her spirits, no matter what challenges she faced in the world. They were like little friends that accompanied you throughout the day and gave you the strength and confidence to hold your head high. It was warm and comforting to have a scarf wrapped around your shoulders. A bag to hold your items for you and heels that could click either with authority or femininity depending on your mood, carrying you through the journeys of life.
At a table mirror on a tiny desk, Ruth applied the lipstick. She stretched her bottom lip to remove the excess with her small finger.
In the bathroom, Loretta belted out some ungodly tune that sounded familiar, but Ruth couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She kicked off her heels and grabbed her uniform. When she slipped it on, Loretta came out of the bathroom, ready.
Ruth eyed Loretta. “Finally. I need to put my toiletries away.” She grabbed a small bag, opening it.
“Good luck. The cabinet space in there is perfect for a mouse.”
Ruth dropped her shoulders. “Of course, it is.”
“It’s not my fault that our cabin is this tiny. I don’t know how they expect two women to get along with such little space. Definitely wasn’t in the brochure.”
“You know, Loretta, this isn’t a holiday. You’re not on vacation. And, as roommates, we need to learn how to get along and live together in these really tight quarters.” Ruth shivered at her own words. What she was asking for felt impossible, even to her. She’d need a lifetime supply of fun accessories just to get through the day-to-day if she was stuck with Loretta for the remainder of this cruise. Or worse, the full contract! The color drained from her face at the mere thought.
“Maybe I can write a letter to management or something?” Loretta shrugged.
After entering the bathroom, Ruth opened a few small drawers and the cabinet behind the mirror, looking for any empty spaces.
“Do you know what kitchen you’ll be working in?” Loretta asked from the other room.
Ruth unloaded a few of her items under the sink. “I think the banquet hall,” she called out.
“I’ll be working at the Blue Dolphin. You know, it’s one of the classier restaurants aboard the ship. It’s on one of the upper decks. Filet mignons stuffed with crab, stylish tablecloths, champagne, and, of course, delicate desserts. I hear it’s where all the classy people go for their cocktails.”
Ruth rolled her eyes as she positioned the last of her items in their place. Then she perked up. A thought had hit her: she wouldn’t be working with Loretta! In fact, they wouldn’t even be on the same deck! The tension in her body eased at the news. She made the few short steps to her bed and smiled. “That’s nice.” She pulled out the last thing left in her suitcase, her nightgown, and rested it on her bed.
“Oh dear, look at the time. We’re running behind.”
Ruth checked her watch. “Oh no! We’ve got to get going.” Ruth scurried, slamming her suitcase shut and fumbling with the zipper.
“Whoa, Nelly.” Loretta blinked rapidly at Ruth’s sudden anxiousness. “It’s not like we’re going to miss the boat or something. We’re already here.”
Ruth shoved the oversized suitcase into a small corner at the foot of her bed, grunting. “Haven’t you heard? They frown upon lateness, especially for orientation.” She gave the suitcase a few final kicks before it nestled snuggly between her bed and the wall.
“Really?” Loretta asked. “We did all the training already. I just thought it would be a quick recap.”
“No, they take this very seriously. They have an entire ship to run, Loretta. They can’t have their staff running late. We can get in big trouble.”
Loretta perked up at the word “trouble.” “Why didn’t you just say so?” Loretta rushed past her, bumping into her again. Ruth lost her balance and fell back onto her bed.
Her new cabinmate opened a small drawer and pulled out a tube of Ruth’s lipstick, painting her lips quickly with a fresh coat. She capped the lipstick, threw it back into the drawer, and pulled her ID over her head, making a beeline for the door.
Ruth’s mouth dropped. Had that just happened?
“Hey!” she shouted. She pulled herself up off the bed and ran after Loretta, barely making it to the door before it slammed shut.
Chapter 3
“Hey!” Ruth hurried after Loretta, allowing their cabin door to slam shut behind her.
She followed her down I-95, the main corridor for crew members to get from one area to the next. It was also where they stored the passengers’ luggage, as well as other supplies needed on the ship. They called it the main artery because it was a huge hall with many smaller passages that led to various stairwells and
elevators, allowing employees easy access to different areas of the ship. There were also many rooms stationed off of I-95 for the crew members, such as the cafeteria—which they often called the mess hall—laundry room, computer room, and the crew bar. Ruth knew how to get to these places, but she was still unsure of where everything else was, sure she’d get lost if she made a wrong turn. As far as she knew, it was a straight shot from her room to the main elevator. Luckily, behind the main elevator was the mess hall, where the cooks, chefs, and bakers were to meet for orientation.
Ruth picked up her pace, catching up to Loretta. “That was my lipstick you used back there!”
“Oh?” Loretta replied, without slowing down. “My apologies. I thought it was mine.”
“Absolutely not. How do you not know what’s yours and what’s someone else’s?”
Loretta let out a sharp breath. “Easy. It’s called making a mistake, but I’m assuming you don’t make mistakes, and therefore, you have no idea what that even means.”
Ruth’s lips flatlined. “I don’t think you get it. Sharing personal items like that can lead to the transmission of diseases, like herpes.”
Loretta stopped and threw her hands up in the air. “Now, c’mon! That’s not how you get herpes.”
“Sure, it is. Ever hear of herpes simplex virus one? Those little blistering cold sores? Once you get it, you have it forever!”
Loretta scoffed. “I’ve been sharing makeup and lipstick with my sisters since we were little girls. None of us have such a thing.”
Ruth furrowed her brows. “How many sisters do you have?”
“Five.”
“Five?!”
“And, as you can see”—Loretta lowered her face to show Ruth—“I have no blisters or pustules,” she pointed out, adding emphasis on the last word. She began walking again toward the mess hall.
“That’s not exactly how it works.” Ruth dodged several people coming the other way down the corridor. The area bustled with all the new crew members trying to find their way. “You may never have an outbreak, yet you can be a carrier.”
“Never heard of such nonsense,” Loretta muttered under her breath.
“I just don’t get how you can pick up a tube of lipstick that isn’t yours and use it. It’s not even your color.”
“Now who’s being rude?” Loretta asked, shaking her head. “Anyway, growing up with a bunch of sisters, you get used to it. We just shared everything. Shoes, makeup, jewelry, nylons, dresses…you name it.”
“Well, I didn’t grow up with a bunch of sisters.”
“Who’d you grow up with?”
“Myself.”
Loretta glanced at her. “You’re an only child?”
“That’s right.” Ruth gave a single aggressive nod.
Loretta let out a chuckle. “That explains a lot.”
“What does that explain, exactly?”
“Your specificities. Your anxieties.”
“My what?” Ruth’s breath came out in short spurts. It wasn’t easy for a five-foot-two woman to keep up with a woman like Loretta, who had the legs of a giraffe. She simply had longer strides, while Ruth was practically in a jog to keep up with her fast-paced walk. “Are you calling me neurotic?”
“I was going to say stickler or perfectionist, but ‘neurotic’ fits the bill perfectly.” Loretta hurried past the elevator and through the sitting area in the cafeteria.
“I never—”
“And before you call me rude again,” Loretta cut in, “may I remind you that you’re not above name-calling.”
“That was an honest mistake. I didn’t mean to call you a moron!”
Loretta and Ruth burst through the kitchen doors as the word “moron” echoed through the room. Everyone’s heads swiveled toward them, the room silent. They were all in a straight line, as if they were in the military, listening to their drill sergeant.
A woman with stark black hair tied up in a tight bun behind her head crossed her arms, glaring at them. “Nice of you both to join us. I see my instructions to be here at exactly 10:30 a.m., with your white coats and pastry hats, wasn’t too important to either of you.”
Next to Ruth, Loretta swallowed hard. Who could blame her—their supervisor was terrifying. The woman’s stone-cold stare could make the most hardened person hang their head in shame.
The black-haired woman approached them with a confident, demanding stride. “If you want to keep your jobs, I suggest you don’t let this happen again.” Her voice came out low and stern.
Ruth and Loretta both bobbed their heads. “Yes, ma’am.”
Their new supervisor glared at them for a few seconds too long, and Ruth’s stomach churned under the weight of her stare. “There’s not much we can do about it now.” Breaking her steady gaze, she faced the crew behind her. She motioned for Ruth and Loretta to join the white coats on the other side of the room before continuing her speech. “The captain will be here any minute,” she said out loud to everyone. “For those of you who are just joining us, I am your supervisor and assistant executive chef, Janice Hassley. I work under the direction of Chef Mills, who couldn’t join us here as he is busy working out the schedules. But don’t worry, I have your assignments for today.”
Just then, the door opened and in walked a sharp-dressed man in a white uniform with gold buttons, followed by a shorter, rounder man in a darker ensemble.
Janice saluted both men. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she said to the crew standing behind her, “this is our captain, Victor Stahre, and our head of ship security, Officer Harry Humphrey.”
The captain stepped up. “I want to welcome you all to the Splendor of the Seas, and I look forward to working with you all in the future. Unfortunately, I can’t stay. I’m making my rounds, and I need to get back to the bridge. So, I will turn this over to our chief security officer, Officer Humphrey.”
With that, he took a quick bow before walking out.
Officer Humphrey was silent a moment before his voice boomed. “I met most of you during our safety training, so I will skip the introductions and will try to keep this short. Safety, here on the ship, is our number one priority. Not only can you put your own lives in danger, but there are many other lives we must consider. When we have an emergency, I don’t want you to even have to think about what you must do. I hope you can act immediately and effectively. Whether it be a fire in the kitchen or failed engines during a hurricane, leaving our ship vulnerable and out of control, heading straight toward a coast of rock.”
Ruth’s eyes grew wide. Could that really happen? She trained her eyes on her comrades, whose faces were that of stone. That had to have been a joke, right?
“This is no joke,” he started again as if he had read her mind. “Our jobs are crucial, and your knowledge can be the difference between life or death. Always remember, time is of the essence when there’s a crisis.” He paused, giving each one of them a hard stare.
“Uh, thank you, Officer Humphrey.” Janice seemed taken aback by his speech. She cleared her throat.
“My pleasure.” He gave her a slight bow and headed toward the door.
Janice faced her staff. “Okay! So, we have about eight hundred passengers and two hundred crew members and staff to feed. Most of you will be here in the mess hall, and a selection will be working in various kitchens on the ship. For those of you who will be working in the mess hall, you know who you are—I have your assignments and recipes sitting at each station.”
More than half of the white coats dispersed and headed into the kitchen behind them. Ruth knew she wasn’t part of the mess hall. Being hired as a pastry chef, the paperwork she received during training with her job description stated that she would be placed on the day of orientation.
“Also, there will be a rotation schedule posted on the bulletin. Please check it to make sure you are present when needed. If I have to hunt you down, it will not be pretty,” Janice called as the mess hall white coats walked away.
The kitchen was
huge, with so many stations and crew members. For some reason, this gave Ruth peace of mind. She’d imagined the workspace to be rather small and cramped like their cabins.
With her clipboard in hand, Janice stepped up in front of Ruth and Loretta, who still stood in line for their placement. Her pen flicked as she ticked something off on the paper before reading. Without looking up, she said, “Loretta Morin.”
“It’s Moran,” Loretta corrected.
Janice looked up from the clipboard. “Excuse me?”
Loretta shifted her weight from one side to the other and tried again. “It’s Moran. Like More-ran. Not More-in.”
Ruth watched as their boss straightened her spine. “Right. Anyway, you will be placed—”
“I know, at the Blue Dolphin on deck seven.”
“No, you will be at the Mermaid’s Dinner Room on deck five.”
“What? Why? I thought I was to be placed at the Blue Dolphin on deck seven.”
Janice lowered her clipboard, locking her hand around her wrist as if to hold herself back from strangling Loretta. It would be an outburst Ruth could undoubtedly understand and get behind. Ruth snickered under her breath. She had to admit, she enjoyed watching the rug being pulled out from under Loretta. Guess she won’t be working in the hoity-toity Blue Dolphin after all.
“Is something funny, Mrs. Shores?” Janice asked.
Ruth stiffened. “No, ma’am.”
The silence between them lingered a moment. Then Janice inhaled deeply. “One of our pastry chefs never showed. So, you were transferred to the Mermaid’s Dinner Room to make up for our loss. Therefore, you two”—she pointed at Loretta and Ruth—“will be working together for possibly the duration of your contracts, serving our elite passengers their evening dinner.”
“What!” Ruth blurted out. “I thought I was going to the banquet hall. Did someone else not show?”
“There are two banquet halls. You are to be placed at the one we call Mermaid’s Dinner Room.”