I looked into the darkness. We had passed beyond the lights of the Florida coast and there were only the lights cast by the ship on the sea and the stars above. I realized I could spend the entire cruise doing nothing but standing here and it would be worth the trip. I thought about everything and nothing.
“There is nothing else like it in the world.”
I didn’t have to turn my head to sense her standing at my side, hands on the rail, looking along with me into the rushing darkness.
“Are you following me, Ms. des-Jardins?”
I looked at that beautiful face which held no expression I could read. I couldn’t help wondering what it would look like smiling.
“I told you that this is not that big a ship. We will encounter each other from time to time. I see you are like me. If I did not have to work, I would be here every night, like this.”
“My life is words, but I couldn’t put this into words. I was ordered to take this cruise, but now I’m glad I was.”
“The only thing more beautiful, I think, is the sea when it is angry. A storm at sea is such a wondrous beast, deadly and beautiful beyond belief.”
“That was you at the other lounge last night, across from this deck.”
She looked back from the view ahead of us and stared into my eyes. There was only a faint curl to those luscious lips.
“Yes. I was in the lounge with guests and invited staff, but the smoke got rather heavy. I stepped outside for air, but I really wanted to stand in the rain and watch the waves. I noticed you a long time before you noticed me. You were really quite....extraordinary.”
I shook my head. Edwards wasn’t paying her enough to be dishing out this much bullshit.
“You are a romantic. I am a very ordinary man.”
There was almost a smile on those lips.
“You do not see yourself, Mr. Maitland. Not truly. I’m not sure why. I am not a poet. But standing there, in the rain and the darkness...it was as if you were carved out of the night. I’m sorry, my English is adequate but...”
“Your English is excellent, but you are dishing out bullshit, pardon my Anglo-Sexonism. Why are you lying?”
She didn’t deny it. Didn’t appear angry.
‘You were staring at me when we were getting ready to depart. You recognized me for some reason. Did someone ask you to baby-sit me? Keep an eye on me?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
This time a faint smile bloomed on her face. It transformed her from merely beautiful to incredibly beautiful.
“A woman has to have some mystery, Mr. Maitland. It is part of our charm.”
“Why would you want to charm a passenger?”
“Not merely a passenger, Mr. Maitland. You are a man. A very interesting man.”
She looked back toward the darkness for a moment, then said, “I hope we meet again. But I must return to my duties. Good night.” And left me there with more questions than I’d had before. And for the first time in months I felt a strong desire to jerk off.
I almost thought about going back to my room and that big bed, but the last few times I’d tried self-stimulation hadn’t worked too well. I was almost afraid to try again and fail again. I’d never in my life been unable to get a hardon by jerking off until....Debbie and Doug.
Besides, I was letting fantasy run away with me. She was a beautiful woman, but that stuff about ‘carved out of the night’ could have come out of some cheap romance novel.
Even when I’d been young and attracted a few women, I’d never been in this woman’s league. And she wasn’t going to fall into my bed out of gratitude for saving her from a gang rape. Besides, she had denied being set up to baby-sit me.
But, she could have been lying. She had told me her job was providing special needs. Would one of those needs be jollying up a depressed man whose boss was afraid he might toss himself over the side one dark night?
That was one whole hell of a lot more likely than a married woman that looked like that being seized by a sudden passion for my middle aged, overweight bald self.
But even if she was just doing her job, she had definitely lifted my spirits. And being out on this night was also raising them. I walked along the deck for an hour, finally went inside.
I grabbed a drink, going back to my regular Bloody Mary heavy on the Tabasco from a little jazz bar that looked inside like something transplanted from 1920s Paris and finally wound up back in the casino.
I wandered the tables until I heard someone call, “Hi, Mr. Maitland.”
I looked over at one of the craps table and saw Dan Jenkins and his wife. He beckoned to me and I walked over.
“Mr. M,” Jenkins said. “I am colder than ice and I’m down a thousand. The dealer said I could call someone in to roll for me. Any chance you could give it a try? Just looking for a familiar face.”
I shook my head.
“Sorry, I’m colder than ice, too. Never have had much luck gambling.”
“Give it a try,” a soft voice said from behind me. She came up to stand beside me and we were almost eye to eye. She was closer to 5-foot 8 than I had thought. She held her hand out and Jenkins grinned at me as he dropped the dice in her cupped palms. She handed them to me, then cupped my hands in hers and leaned forward and pursed her lips as if whistling. Her soft breath which smelled of mint caressed my hands.
She held my hands in hers for a moment.
“Sometimes a new woman can change your luck, or so I’ve heard.”
I put the dice in my right hand, stepped up to the table and threw them. A moment later Caroline gasped and Jenkins shouted. He pounded me on the back.
“That almost got me all my money back. Roll for me again.”
I looked at her but she shook her head and let my hands go.
“I’m sorry, I must go. Pleasure running into you again, Mr. Maitland.”
I looked at Jenkins and shook my head also,
“Sorry, my luck just walked away.”
He gave her swaying rear view a quick glance and said, “I think you might get lucky yet, Mr. Maitland.”
Then his wife nudged him in the side with his elbow and he laughed and gave her a quick kiss.
I smiled back and said, “No, I think I just my luck just ran out. If I was you, I wouldn’t push mine.”
His wife grabbed his elbow and said, “He won’t. Besides, we have unfinished business, right honey?”
I was in my room in 30 minutes and again I barely had time to toss my clothes off and I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. Something about the sea air. When I woke up the next morning, I couldn’t remember what I had dreamed about, but they were good dreams.
Sunday, July 17, 2005
We were in Nassau in the morning and I considered staying on the ship, but I walked off the ship on the concrete pier that led in a short distance to the remains of what had been the world famous Straw market near Bay Street and George Street. It had been destroyed by a fire a few years earlier and now it was housed in a large tent, but it still had tons of things nobody but a tourist could ever love or buy.
I bought tee-shirts for the kids which was the only thing I thought they would really appreciate and was heading back when a cab pulled up beside me and I looked inside to see Aline and another female staffer sitting in back.
“Mr. Maitland, Suzanne and I were headed for a quick lunch before going back to the ship. Would you care to join us?”
I gestured to the interior. Bahamanian cabs are not the largest in the world.
‘I don’t think I’d fit.”
“Squeeze in,” and I did, feeling her soft form pressed against almost every inch of me. I could literally feel her breathe and her rising and falling breasts caressed my shoulder. Suzanne just giggled a lot. Lunch was nice but I ate lightly. I had to remember that life would go on when I returned to the real world.
“Is that all you’re eating?” Suzanne said.
“He has to watch his figure,” Aline said with a s
mall smile, sitting in a booth across from me.
“No,” I said and couldn’t keep myself from adding, even knowing I was making a fool of myself, “that’s not the figure I have to watch.”
Suzanne giggled and Aline just blushed and lowered her eyes.
Back on the ship, which was largely deserted, I read part of a novel, went down and swam in one of the deserted pools which was nicely heated by the sunlight and took a nap.
I walked the decks and ran into a pod of four 30-ish blondes who turned out to be teachers from Atlanta “celebrating” three divorces from dirty rat bastards and one inheritance. They were attractive, fairly well built for the most part, fairly personable, and quite unmistakably horny as hell.
One of them made that clear by brushing her hip insistently against me and when I turned to talk to her clearly rubbing her hip against my groin.
The others giggled as she gave me a disappointed look.
“Bill,” she said because we’d exchanged first names at their insistence, “I just shed a miserable rat bastard and my confidence in my charms is waning. Now I’m rubbing up against a man and nothing. Please tell me you’re gay and it’s not me. Not with that wedding ring on your hand. And where is the missus?”
“She’s probably in my house, the one I worked nearly ten years to pay for. Having hot sex with the young stud she’s divorcing me to be with. And I’m not gay, Lee. It’s just that my soon to be ex-wife is a blonde and right now I’m not too partial to blondes. No offense.”
She put her hand on mine.
“No offense taken, Bill. My friends and I...kind of wondered. We’ve seen you around the ship and you’re always alone, except a few times when we’ve seen you with that skinny French broad.
“And mostly people don’t approach you. It’s like there’s a wall around you. I had to push them to agree to hunt you down today and see if you were approachable. But I understand where you’re at. My divorce was final two months ago. And even though I hated the bastard, it wasn’t pleasant.”
I looked her up and down. She had a nice pair of breasts, maybe a “C” cup. Her features were fairly sharp, but not a bad looking woman. She was five-five and it was nice to look down at a woman.
“It must be the sea air, or else the pickings must be very slim. I have to ask, why in the world would you be interested enough to hunt me down?”
She gave me a puzzled look.
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m short, I’m bald, I’m not a Greek God. Why would an attractive woman like you even be interested enough to check me out?”
She looked at her friends with a helpless expression, then said, “Could I ask you how long you’ve been with your wife?”
“Nearly 18 years and we were together for two years before that.”
“Don’t be insulted, but did you – no, I bet you never played around on her, did you?”
“No.”
“Well, I think you’ve been married too long. There’s a vibe..something that married, married guys give off. Unless you’re the kind of woman that’s attracted to a challenge, or you just like married men, most women won’t waste their time on a guy like that. Life is too short.
“I think you’ve been married so long that you automatically sendoff shut-down signals to keep women away, You might think that you don’t attract women, but that was the married Bill.”
“That’s Bill, but thank you, Lee.”
“You sure you wouldn’t like to have lunch. Go get drinks. Go to my room?”
She grinned at the last.
“I know I’m being forward, but hey, this is a Celebrate Freedom cruise. It might do you some good too.”
“I’m sorry, Lee, really sorry. But you’re too blonde.”
“Not all over.”
“I’d see her every minute I was with you. I know this is a really shitty way to respond to a – very attractive offer – but I’ve been more than a little crazy for the last three months. I’m just getting my sanity back and a lot of that is not even thinking about, or being reminded of her. I’m sorry.”
She reached over and gave me a peck on the cheek.
“It’s okay. Give it time. You do get over it. You sure you don’t want my number in Atlanta, just for future reference?”
“You ever hear the old joke about never getting involved with a woman who has more problems than you? Well, no matter how bad off you are, I have more problems. Bye.”
I walked away from her wondering why the hell I hadn’t taken her up on her offer. She seemed like a nice, maybe slightly desperate, lady. She wasn’t in Debbie’s league, but how many women would I ever meet that were.
I looked up to the next railing and saw Aline des-Jardins leaning over and looking at me and the pod of desperate divorcees. The one woman I’d met that was in Debbie’s league, was still out of my league.
The rest of the day went by without dragging too badly. I made the supper seating again and the older couple and Cyndi Mathews was there. I noticed both her husband and the redhead were missing.
Not making anything of it, I just asked, “Your husband is missing. Did he go ashore? I understand we’ll be pulling out and heading for Marsh Harbour in a half hour.”
She was drinking straight Scotch on the rocks and this was the second one she’d downed since we sat down 20 minutes earlier. She rubbed her lips and I noticed her eyes were red.
“I wasn’t feeling well this morning and I decided not to go into town. Andy wanted to go. I haven’t heard from him since.”
She just looked at the redhead’s empty chair and that one glance told me volumes about where Andy was and who he was with and the state of this pretty blonde’s marriage.
I wished I could say something to raise her spirits but I could see her taking this cruise in a couple of years for a Celebrate Divorce cruise. I just hoped the bastard wouldn’t crush her spirit too badly before she kicked his ass out.
After awhile we had finished the typical multi-course French meal of gastronomic magnificence, the older couple had begged off, and she and I sat alone at the table, myself nursing an after-dinner coffee and she sipping a fifth Scotch. I didn’t have the heart to let her go off alone.
“Well, since your husband is not back yet, would you mind keeping me company for a little while, Mrs. Mathews?”
“That’s okay, but...”
“Please, I’d like to be able to tell people that I spent some time on this cruise with a really attractive young woman.”
She turned her face toward me and I saw the teardrops beginning to leak around the edges of her eyes.
“You don’t need me for that. That pretty French woman hasn’t been able to keep her eyes off you and I’ve seen you two together. You...know she’s married, right? And you’re wearing a wedding ring.”
I answered her unspoken question.
“I’m almost finished divorcing my wife, or being divorced. And I have no idea what Ms. des-Jardins’ marital status is. Anyway, nothing’s been going on, Cyndi. She’s just being friendly.”
“Un huh, okay. But you don’t want a married lady messing up your chances of...”
“There are no chances of anything. I just want to have a drink or two, walk outside, maybe do a bit of dancing if you’re up to it. And then I’ll be on my way and Andy should be back looking for you.”
We left together. I had to gently support her a couple of times when she swayed, but she was doing pretty good for all the alcohol she’d consumed. We walked the 7th floor deck, watching the ocean and talking about our lives.
She was the heir, with some brothers and sisters, to a fortune earned by her parents. And Andy was well aware of that fact. Just the classic poor little rich girl.
We made our way to the little Jazz bar and I ordered a Bloody Mary. She ordered another Scotch but I gently suggested she have a cup of coffee and after a minute she ordered one instead of the booze. We sat there for a few minutes and then she asked me if I danced.
We moved
together gently rather than dancing, but that was what the three other couples on the small dance floor were doing. She felt nice and warm in my arms and she rested her head against my chest. I could feel her breasts rubbing against my chest.
I wondered how Andy could be so fucking, so criminally stupid, to take a chance on losing this for a quick or even an extended bout of sex with a stranger.
But then again, I’d always been happy to be a married man.
We finally made our way to her cabin on the seventh deck, one of the expensive rooms with balconies opening out to the sea. She found her room key and opened the door. We both looked inside. It was empty.
We stood in the doorway while she looked at the empty room and I wished I knew her well enough to hug her.
“I know he married me for my money. Or rather, my mom and dad’s money. I’m not stupid, although most people think I’m just a dumb blonde. I think he has feelings for me. Or he could. But, I love him. And I have to hope that one day he’ll wake up and realize he loves me. Is that stupid?”
I gave her that hug and kissed her on the forehead. Now I felt ancient.
“Not stupid at all, Cyndi. Not stupid. Good night.”
It wasn’t fair. I had finally started to feel better about things. And now I felt like shit again. I didn’t have to be a fortune teller to realize there would be no happy ending for this poor little rich girl. Assholes like Andy never changed.
I went up to the gym and found Andre, the attendant ready to close up. He looked fairly unhappy. I finally got him to admit there was a crew party starting in 10 minutes in one of the sections closed to passengers.
There was a Colombian sex bomb who worked in maintenance that he’d been working on for two months who was waiting on him. Andre was only 25. I took pity on him.
“I’m a prosecutor and a government official, Andre. Get everything ready so I can just clean up and lock the place behind me. I guarantee you, you won’t get in any trouble. Get out of here and go see your lady.”
After he had gone, I stripped down to a tee-shirt I had worn under my good suit and changed into a pair of shorts I’d been working out in and which were getting more than a little gamy. Tomorrow morning I’d have to have them washed and dried. I carried a pair of ratty white tennis shoes and athletic socks in a little gym bag I’d taken on the cruise.
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