A Change of Plans

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A Change of Plans Page 7

by Donna K. Weaver


  My chest ached. She was right about him, but it didn’t change anything. It’s not like we would see each other after the cruise. I had been right not to let things go any further. It was pointless to take a chance on something that couldn’t go anywhere anyway.

  We finished in silence, and Elle faced me. “We have a social problem we need to decide how to handle.”

  I knew what she meant. The only way for me to ignore Braedon completely was to keep to myself. Elle would never stand for that. Yet I couldn’t subject everyone in the group to the awkwardness between Braedon and me. I sighed.

  “Lyn, you need to tell him.”

  “What, you didn’t tell him like you told Jori?”

  Elle averted her eyes. “Braedon needs to hear this from you. Don’t you think he has the right to know why you’ve been avoiding him? Everyone’s been asking him if you guys had a fight.”

  My stomach churned. I should have done this days ago, forged my way through the embarrassment. Only Elle understood the hell I had been through the last year. And Braedon, he didn’t deserve any of it.

  A year ago, I had refused to admit I was wounded, not saying Jace’s name or allowing anyone else to do so in my presence. Yeah, that had gone well.

  I dropped into the chair. “I’ll talk to him. I would have done it this morning if I could have been sure of a little more privacy.”

  Her expression lightened. “You will?” Elle, the eternal romantic.

  I scowled, my stomach tightening again. “What did you think was going to happen, anyway? That the nice doctor would sweep me off my feet, and we would ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after? This isn’t The Love Boat.”

  “It sounds stupid when you put it like that. But I don’t think I deserve your sarcasm.”

  I stared at her, remembering all she had done for me. “You’re right. I’m sorry. But admit it. You thought that could happen, didn’t you?”

  “It still could.” Her eyes pleaded with me to make it so.

  “As if he’d even talk to me after ...” I squeezed my lips shut. She was sucking me into it. “Stop it, Elle. Please.”

  She studied me before nodding. “We’re late for breakfast.”

  By the time we got there, only two empty chairs remained at the large table where the group sat. One by Jori and one by Braedon. I lengthened my stride and passed Elle to take the seat by Jori, across the table from Braedon.

  “Good morning, everyone.” With hands like ice, I placed a napkin in my lap.

  Maria picked up her juice glass. “Nice to see you’re feeling better. That must have been quite the bug you caught. I’m glad no one else got it.”

  “Me too,” I mumbled, sneaking a quick look at Braedon before lifting my menu. He watched me, his expression dark, his brows knit. I felt an almost overwhelming urge to reach across the table and wipe the frown from his face. Instead, I asked Jori. “What are you having?”

  He leaned inside my menu and whispered, “Have you talked to him?”

  “Stay out of it,” I hissed.

  “You’re an idiot.” Jori sat up, his mouth tight. His volume increased. “You should eat something easy on your stomach. You wouldn’t want to get any heartburn—ow!” He leaned down to rub his shin and glared at Elle.

  Jimmy nudged my arm. “Hey, I don’t know if Elle mentioned it, but the cruise director’s letting us have the talent show, and our first rehearsal is this afternoon. I really need you to play the keyboard with Braedon.”

  My heart sank. Why did this need to be any harder? “I’m not interested in performing.”

  “But Braedon wrote you a special part.”

  Curious, I looked at Braedon.

  He shrugged. “You volunteered me to play the piano for him, remember?” He glanced at Jimmy, who stared at me, his hands together as if in prayer, his eyes beseeching.

  I asked Braedon, “When did you write music for me?”

  He didn’t even blink. “I’ve had a lot of free evenings lately.”

  My face burned. I had hurt him ... or embarrassed him. Yet he had composed music for me? I took a deep breath and turned to Elle. “What are you doing to help Jimmy?”

  “Costumes, of course.” She gave me a ‘you can’t be that selfish’ look.

  “You’ll help Jimmy, won’t you?” Maria asked.

  All eyes rested on me.

  “Please,” Jimmy begged.

  He had told me this trip was to be his last hurrah before he bowed to his parents’ plans. The talent show was his one chance to perform power metal before an audience. I considered first Jimmy and then Elle, who watched me expectantly. I owed Elle for worrying her during the Hawaii days.

  Sighing, I rubbed my temple. I was an adult. I knew how to be pleasant to people I didn’t like. Or liked too much. “I’ll take a look at the music.”

  Jimmy whooped and jumped from his seat to hug me, and Elle beamed. I didn’t look at Braedon, who left to get the sheets from his cabin.

  When he came back, he slid some handwritten music across the table. I picked it up and read through the piece, surprised at what he had written. It was perfect for me. The music was a descant to one of Jimmy’s favorite songs, “Shining Star” by Kinslayer. As I played the notes in my mind, I felt a chill at its beauty. My hands itched to play it on the keyboard.

  At the end of the meal, I held back while the others rose. Braedon also remained in his chair.

  I clutched my cold hands on the table before me, my heart pounding as I waited for us to be alone. “I ... I’m sorry.”

  Braedon leaned forward, stretching his hands across the table toward me. I pulled mine into my lap and sat back. He stopped but left his hands there, his eyes concerned. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No. I just—” I still couldn’t say Jace’s name. “I got burned really bad last year.”

  His expression softened, compassion in his eyes.

  I didn’t want his pity. “I’ll help play the keyboard, but ...” My face grew warm. “I’m not interested in a shipboard romance.”

  He met my eyes. “Neither am I.”

  My heart fluttered, and I swallowed, unsure how to respond. That so didn’t clear anything up, but it didn’t matter. I clenched my hands so tight they went numb. “I just want to be acquaintances.”

  “Acquaintances.” Braedon pulled his hands to his lap and leaned back in his chair, mirroring my posture. “Not even friends?”

  Jace’s charming face flashed through my mind, followed by a memory of the hospital room. “I’m just not ready.” I stood and hurried from the restaurant, leaving him alone. Again.

  I passed Jori where he stood watching us by the entrance. I pushed the elevator button and glanced back to where Braedon sat. He hadn’t moved.

  Jori stared at Braedon and shrugged, waiting until the last minute before sliding into the elevator beside me. As the doors closed, he put his arm around me. “It’ll be okay,” he said.

  Just like my brother had done a year ago.

  JORI BECAME my shadow. He was always nearby to help if things became awkward. When I went to the library, he came along to sketch, never bothering me, but always there in the background. In the morning self-defense sessions, Jori served as my new partner.

  Braedon maintained a pleasant manner and continued to come to all the group activities. He only spoke to me if the situation required it, though I caught him watching me several times. His expression reminded me of someone trying to solve a puzzle without all the pieces.

  Rehearsals were the most awkward. Braedon and I had to stand side by side at the electronic keyboard, playing the notes he had written for me. I couldn’t get the lovely music out of my mind. I caught myself humming it several times, the lingering descant haunting my dreams.

  THE DAY before we reached American Samoa, everyone gathered backstage after lunch for the performance. Elle gave us our costumes, comprised of an eclectic assortment of black formal attire and leather boots. All the costumes included deco
rative chains and spikey jewelry that looked suspiciously like they might have been purchased at a pet store. She had worked on them in the evenings while I had been so self-absorbed.

  Jimmy had arranged to have us perform last, after a parade of passenger acts that included everything from a little girl singing “Over the Rainbow” to an old man whistling the William Tell Overture through his dentures while doing percussion on his chest and thighs.

  When our turn came, we took our places on stage behind the closed curtain. Jimmy got himself set up and glanced back at us to make sure we were ready.

  With his right hand raised, he bowed his head for a few seconds before dropping his arm. As it fell, the curtain opened, and he lifted his head while shifting into the perfect metal rock star pose.

  Springing forward, Jimmy cried, “Are. You. Ready?”

  The crowd screamed their agreement. Drawn by the audience’s enthusiasm, more people came into the lounge.

  Jimmy paced the stage like a caged animal before throwing his arms above his head, clapping his hands, and yelling, “What will you do?”

  The lead guitarist began a complicated riff, and the audience got up and clapped with the beat.

  At a signal from Jimmy, the drummer and the bass followed the guitarist. After a few measures, Braedon and I joined the song on the keyboard, and Jimmy began to sing. He dazzled them. It was like someone else inhabited his body, energy emanating from him.

  Jimmy connected with the audience, and they loved him. He could feel it, and he seemed to draw even more energy from it. He hadn’t been quite like this in the practices. I understood it to a degree. Performing with an audience always made me feel like I had become part of something bigger than myself. I forgot to be self-conscious.

  By the end of the song, everyone in the audience who could stand was on their feet, cheering and screaming for an encore. Savvy Jimmy had prepared us for this possibility, and we had a second song ready.

  At the end, I stared at my shaking hands. “Wow.”

  Braedon watched as Jimmy bent down to talk with audience members who had rushed to the stage to meet him. “I think he’ll be famous someday.”

  “I think you may be right.”

  After congratulating Jimmy, Jori jumped up the stairs, hugged me, and then clapped Braedon on the back. “None of the practices prepared me for that. It was nothing short of amazing.” Jori eyed Jimmy. “I’ve got a friend who’s a promoter. I’m going to do everything I can to get Jimmy in to meet him.”

  Applause greeted us as we entered the restaurant for our celebratory dinner. Jimmy accepted their acknowledgement with Maria on his arm, waving to the crowd.

  The party continued on the sky deck where we finalized plans for our Pago Pago snorkeling trip the next morning. The entire group had signed up for it.

  CHAPTER 10

  JORI STRAIGHTENED my face mask as he treaded water beside me. “You good?”

  We played around in the water for a while before I felt ready to try snorkeling. “Yeah, I think so.” I pointed to one of the girls waving her arms at him. “You’d better hurry. I think she needs your help more than I do.”

  After he left, I floated, swirling my hands and flippered feet in the water. I wanted to remember all the details: the comforting warmth of the crystalline water on my skin and the soft caress of the breeze as it ruffled a few strands of my hair. The small island with its pristine beach lay a short distance to one side, and the catamaran floated in the little bay on my other side.

  The catamaran was a sweet little vessel, much smaller than the ones I had seen around Hawaii. It sat low on the water with two sections of trampoline made from white rope in the front. Unlike larger vessels, this one had only a simple canopy with no walls.

  After a review of Jori’s instructions, I closed my lips over the snorkeling mouthpiece. When I slipped my face into the water, I almost gasped. The view under the surface made it seem as though I had put on magical glasses that revealed a secret, chaotic world of multicolored fish glowing in the reflected light of the sun. As I kicked my fins, the fish flitted around but didn’t move too far away, a few tickling my legs when they came too close.

  My right eye burned, and I lifted my head from the water and removed the mask. A small amount of seawater dripped from the interior, and I shook it out before putting the mask on again, adjusting it. As soon as I put my face back in the water, my right eye burned again. Groaning, I lifted my head and tried tightening the straps.

  “Something wrong?” Braedon appeared at my side and took the mask from me.

  It took all my control to maintain a level voice. “I keep getting water in my right eye. I can’t tell where it’s leaking.”

  Braedon put the mask back on me and adjusted the straps, taking my jaw in his hand and gently twisting my chin back and forth, scrutinizing the fit.

  At his touch, my cheeks flamed. I tried to keep my expression neutral as he examined my face. “Ah, I see the problem.” He tugged a small strand of hair from under the mask on the right side. “Your hair was letting the water get through. Give it a try now.”

  I slid my face under the water again, kicking my feet to propel me forward. No stinging right eye. I looked up, treading water, and faced him. “That fixed it.”

  “Did you see the shark?”

  I jerked at the word, drawing my feet up and whipping my head from side to side.

  Braedon chuckled. “It’s just a whitetip reef shark. They’re not dangerous and leave people alone. I’ll get a picture of it for you.” With a twist, he dove under the surface.

  “Wait!” I tried to grab his arm to stop him, but he was already out of reach. With shaking hands, I slipped the mouthpiece in place. Through the mask, I could make out his form sliding through a kaleidoscope of fish that darted away from him, opening my field of vision to large rocks at the bottom. I blinked back dizziness at the sight of the fin that identified the small shark.

  My mind envisioned the monster turning on him, and I went deeper. Too deep. Ocean water poured through the snorkel tube, and I inhaled the salty liquid. I launched back to the surface and ripped off the gear, choking and gasping for air.

  Jori was beside me in a few strokes and helped keep me afloat while I hacked. By the time Braedon resurfaced, my coughing had lessened, but my throat was raw.

  He tore off his headpiece and hurried over. “What happened?”

  Chuckling, Jori shook his head. “She tried to go after you and nearly drowned herself.”

  I tried to argue, but all I did was trigger a fit of coughing.

  Jori patted me on the back like he would a baby. I elbowed him and wheezed, “You should have more ... respect ... for poor drowning women.”

  Rubbing his ribs, he snickered. “Well, you’re back to normal.”

  I gave him a crusty look, which only made him laugh harder. I was about to elbow him again when the catamaran crew called us back to the boat.

  Jori rolled on his back, acting all dramatic with his hand on his rib. “I owe you.” He twisted to his stomach and swam toward the catamaran.

  Braedon scowled as I coughed again. “You’re okay to go back?”

  Nodding, I stretched my hands toward the catamaran, still holding the face mask, and kicked my flippers. By the time I pulled myself up on the ladder, Jori had already turned in his equipment and stood next to Elle.

  “What do you mean you owe me?” I tossed my gear in the box. “What did I do?”

  Jori touched his rib, faking a grimace. “I owe you some payback.” He grinned and followed Elle to the main group under the canopy. She looked back at me with a quizzical face.

  I sighed.

  Braedon came up beside me. “You two act like siblings sometimes.”

  “Yeah, well, sometimes he does remind me of my younger brother.”

  As the captain started the engine, I moved toward the trampoline, sorry to see the crew had lashed the sail. No more wind sailing. I joined Jimmy and Maria—on the opposite end of the b
oat from Jori.

  Braedon followed. “I got a decent picture of the shark.”

  “We heard about that thing. Can we see?” Jimmy asked. He and Maria made room on the trampoline.

  Braedon sat next to them, pulled his camera from its underwater case, and turned it on for the others to see.

  After drying off, I slipped a cover-up over my tankini before lying on the netting. It had been a long morning, and my eyelids were heavy. We had one more island to visit, where we would have lunch and then head back to Pago Pago.

  I barely noticed when Braedon reclined a couple of feet from me. I opened my eyes at the movement, catching him watching me. It must have been his peaceful gaze combined with my fatigue that kept me from searching for an excuse to move.

  “Would you like to see the picture?”

  I shivered and closed my eyes again. “I hate sharks.”

  Jimmy exhaled. “I wish every day was like this.”

  I peeked over where he and Maria lay cuddled on Braedon’s other side. “We might get tired of it if we did this every day.” I yawned.

  “Nah. I wouldn’t.” His eyes closed, a contented grin growing up his cheeks.

  I had just drifted to sleep when a loud crack jerked me awake. Braedon jumped up, lunging forward. Someone screamed.

  CHAPTER 11

  I STRUGGLED ACROSS the netting to the main deck, trying to make sense of the screaming and shouting around me. I jolted at another sharp crack—gunfire—and then there was only sobbing.

  Jimmy and Braedon were the first off the trampoline, but they stopped, both raising their hands. Like in a movie. What was going on? I tried to look around Braedon. He threw out one of his hands, keeping me behind him.

  A voice shouted for him to stop. Braedon’s hand froze. The voice barked for him to move. His shoulders rigid, Braedon hesitated before stepping aside. One of the crewmen stood before us with an AK-47 pointed at Braedon, his eyes on me. My stomach lurched, and the scene before me took on a surreal, nightmarish quality.

  The Asian crewman glared at us, but his hands shook as they gripped the rifle. What if he squeezed the trigger by mistake? Fear tightened my chest, making it hard to breathe.

 

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