by Dori Lavelle
Somewhere in the canteen, a plate hits the natural stone tile floor. The three of us and some of the other colleagues dining with us, turn to where the sound is coming from, distracted only for a moment before conversations resume.
“Grace,” Lynn joins our conversation. “As your colleagues, we appreciate it when you go above and beyond to lighten the workload.” She picks lint from the sleeve of her powder, vintage-inspired summer dress then lifts her gaze to my face. “But as your friends, we worry about you. We wouldn’t want you to develop carpal tunnel syndrome or something worse.”
I cover Lynn’s hand with mine. “It’s sweet of you guys to look out for me. But you don’t have to worry. I’m fine.”
Jillian shakes her head. “You're not and you know it.” She reaches for my other hand. “I know you don't want to admit it, but you're working yourself to the bone because you want to forget Bryant.”
“I'm over him, believe me.” I withdraw my hands from theirs and rise. “And just to prove to you guys that I am taking care of my health, I’m hitting the sack early tonight.” I pick up my tray but before I walk away, I turn to them with a smile. “I have a surprise for you both. Drop by my cabin in about thirty minutes.” I leave before they can ask me what the surprise is.
I don’t head to my cabin immediately but find myself in front of the closed door that opens to the stairs leading to the deck, to Bryant’s suite. It’s the third time since Cabo that I’d been here, wondering if he lied and is perhaps still on the ship, if another woman has already replaced my place in his arms.
I could go and knock on his door, but I no longer have the right to do that.
“Excuse me.” One of the cleaning staff appears at my side with a bucket filled with cleaning supplies.
“Sorry.” I move away and she steps through the door.
My feet refuse to let me leave for five more minutes, and when I finally get the courage to walk away, I promise myself it’s for good. You can't force a heart to love somebody.
I’m back inside my cabin for only twenty-five minutes, preparing for bed, when a tap on my door calls for my attention.
I'm holding my breath as I go to open the door, my subconscious still daring to dream of the impossible.
By the time my fingers come into contact with the door handle, my head is swimming with dizziness. I release the air trapped inside my lungs and pull the door open.
My heart sinks when I find Jillian and Lynn standing there.
“Why do you look like that?” Jillian asks, eyebrows drawn together.
“Like what?” I open the door wider to let them enter.
“As if you were expecting someone else.” She lifts a brow. “You weren’t, were you?”
“No, of course not.” I close the door and follow them further into my room.
“What's all this?” Lynn steps to the bed.
I reach for one of the dresses lined up on the bed, tightening my fingers around it, holding on to the memories a few seconds longer. “These are designer clothes. I was wondering if you guys want to have them.”
“The stuff he bought you?” Jillian picks up a canary yellow evening gown I didn’t get the chance to wear. “They must have cost a fortune. Are you sure you want to get rid of them?”
I sink onto the bed and let go of the dress in my hands. “I no longer need them. I bought some clothes in Cabo, remember?” Just because Bryant is out of my life doesn’t mean I’m returning to my shapeless clothes.
“Yes, but not designer clothes.” Lynn’s mouth drops when she glances at a tag still on one of the dresses. “This one cost more than I earn in a month.”
“I don’t care.” My back meets the plump pillows as I lean back. “The clothes hold too many memories.” A sigh whooshes from my lips. “Do you want them or not? I don't mind if you gift them to someone else. I just want to get rid of them. I need to move on.”
“Say no more.” Jillian is already removing her clothes to try on my dresses. “Who can say no to luxury?”
“One thing though,” I hug my knees. “Please don’t wear them on the LaClaire ships? Just in case—”
“Of course, love.” Jillian drops by my side, in her bra and panties. “You don't have to worry about that.” She touches my arm. “Are you sure you're okay?”
“You know what? I think I am.” I smile at my friends. “It was great while it lasted, but I’ll not waste my time thinking about Mr. Right Now when I have Mr. Right to look forward to.”
24
Grace
The sun pours heat over my head and shoulders as I disembark the LaClaire, at the final destination in San Francisco.
After the roller coaster ride I had, arriving home is bittersweet. The last two weeks were hard, with me trying to forget Bryant and focus on my job. At least Lynn and Jillian were there to pull me through, not once telling me, “I told you so”. It also helps that me and my mother have revived our relationship and are closer than ever before.
Six weeks ago, I had boarded the LaClaire with a broken heart. Now I’m walking off of it, with a pulverized heart. I don’t know where my life will take me, whether I’ll apply for other cruise ship jobs or something on the ground. Both prospects are terrifying at this point but I know I have to pull myself together and move on with my life, to start where I am and take one step at a time without having to be too concerned about the future.
When Mom found out I was coming home, she insisted on meeting me at the ship so we can drive by car back home. I had instantly jumped on the idea. A road trip would give us a chance to catch up, just the two of us, without nosy neighbors sticking their noses into our business.
I certainly don’t look forward to living in a small town, to all the rumors that will be following me around. But this time it won’t get to me as much as it used to. Even though Bryant broke my heart, he also gave me something no one will be able to take away from me—my confidence.
Whether my heart heals or not, I will live my life the way I want to. I appreciate that Mom has promised never to interfere in my life again. As soon as I get settled, I’ll be looking for a place of my own. Thank God the LaClaire paid so well. The money I’ve made will be able to cover my expenses for at least two or three months, while I look for another job.
“So, how does it feel to be on dry land again?” Jillian comes to stand next to me, carrying her battered suitcase with one hand and the other holding her wide-brim straw hat on top of her head. Her white and gold dress is flapping in the wind Marilyn Monroe style. She told me earlier that she likes to exit the ship looking like one of the guests and not an employee, in case her dream man is somewhere in the crowds. Somebody like Bryant, with the looks and the money, but minus the player lifestyle.
I grin at her. “It will take some getting used to.”
“That’s for sure.” Jillian pushes her sunglasses onto her face. “How are you getting home?”
“My mom is picking me up.” I shield my eyes with a hand and scan the crowd. “She should be here somewhere.”
“I’m happy you two patched things up. Mom and I used to be so close. I still can’t believe she’s gone. Cancer sucks.”
“I’m sorry about your mom.” I drop my hand to my side and touch her arm.
“That’s life. We lose some, we gain some. Darling, it was such a pleasure to meet you.” She drops her suitcase and gives me a hug that smells of baby powder. “Don’t be a stranger. And if you ever change your mind about working on the LaClaire again, give me a call to see where in the world I am.”
I squeeze her for a moment, holding on to my new friend. “Don’t hold your breath.” I let her go and look into her eyes, which I can barely see through the glasses. “I mean, I won’t call about the LaClaire, only to check up on you.”
“And to find a way to meet up. Lynn and I would love to hang out on dry land as well. I’m sure we’ll have just as much fun. Now, I better go and see if my man is somewhere out there.”
I laugh, shaking my head
. “Go ahead.”
Jillian gives me a final wave and disappears into the sea of guests and staff members.
I grip my suitcase tighter and move forward, weaving my way through the crowd. Unable to see my mother’s face, I lower my suitcase and reach into my bag for my phone. I catch sight of her face before I make the call. She’s standing next to a souvenir stand, her smile bright, her golden hair gleaming in a bun on the top of her head. She always has a polished look about her, never a hair out of place. Today is no exception.
I lift a hand to wave when I see the man standing next to her. In the glare of the sunlight and the light bouncing off his sunglasses, I can’t quite make out his face.
My heart recoils inside my chest at the thought that Mom has brought Dustin with her. Why would she do that, after everything he did to me? Some things are too good to be true.
I thought she had changed. Looks like she hasn’t changed after all. If she thinks I’ll drive back home with the two of them in the same car, she’s wrong. Fury is eating at my stomach lining as I watch Dustin detach himself from Mom and walk toward me. I bent to pick up my suitcase, ready to push past him.
He removes his glasses and his face comes into better focus.
My jaw drops and so does my suitcase. It’s not Dustin.
“Bryant,” My heart rate spikes. I take a step forward. “What?”
His smile widens the closer he gets. The other faces blur as his becomes my main focus. His eyes are on me and no one else, glinting like jewels in the sun.
I can’t move. I can barely breathe. How is it possible that the man who broke my heart two weeks ago is here in San Francisco with my mother? Could it be he had been on the LaClaire after all?
Standing there, my world spinning, I remember what he said to me before we parted.
We knew how it would end from the start.
As he nears me, the words crumble and fade into nothing.
When I start to feel again, I lift my hand to my cheek, wiping the tears with my fingertips.
As soon as he’s within hearing range, I move my lips to say something but before I find the words, he’s standing in front of me, but only for a second before he drops to one knee. His eyes never leaving my face, he pushes a hand into his pocket. I forget how to breathe.
It’s over. It was over. What changed? What’s he doing?
I can feel instead of see all the faces turned toward us, hear excited whispers over the beating of my heart.
“Grace Anderson.” He cracks a smile. “I made a huge mistake and I’m here because I want to correct it.” He blinks away the sparkle in his eyes. “Please forgive me. When I said goodbye to you, I talked out of fear, fear because I felt so much for you and was afraid to mess it up. The truth is, what I feel for you can never compare to how I felt for anyone else. You consume me and it’s never felt so good to be lost in someone. I came here because I realize that without you, I don’t have a life. I don’t have a reason to wake up in the morning.”
My knees are tingling and sweat is pushing through the skin of my forehead. I wish someone would come and hold me before I fall. I doubt my legs will be able to hold me upright for much longer. Holding my breath, I glance at Mom, who’s still standing near the souvenir stand, her hands clutched in front of her chest, face beaming. I’ve never seen her smile so brightly.
I return my gaze to Bryant and speak. “What are you doing?”
“I never returned home as I said I would. Instead I flew to Arizona to meet your mom, to ask her permission for your hand in marriage.”
My handbag drops to the ground.
Please tell me this is not a dream.
“We haven’t known each other for long, but sometimes you just know if something is right. I know that you are it for me. I don’t want to take one more step in this life without you by my side.” He pauses. “I love you, Grace Anderson. Please say you’ll be the only woman in my life, in my heart. Say you’ll be my wife.”
He doesn’t need to ask me twice. Everything he said is perfect, the kind of words movies are made of. Instead of speaking, because I can’t with my tongue glued to the top of my mouth, I drop to my knees in front of him, swaying slightly, drunk from his love.
As I look into his eyes, my hands on his cheeks, I don’t care how long we’ve known each other. The only thing that matters is that I love him. No way will I pass up the opportunity to be the final puzzle that completes his life.
I unglue my tongue from the top of my mouth, moisten my lips and tell him the words he wants to hear. “I will marry you, Bryant LaClaire.” My throat clogged by happy tears, I almost choke on the words. “Everything you said now—I feel the same way.”
We’re both damaged in different ways and inexperienced when it comes to relationships, but we bring out the best in each other, we love each other. What better start is there to a fairytale?
Bryant reaches forward and pulls me into the circle of his arms, squeezing me so tight, it’s hard to breathe. Over his shoulders, cameras are flashing, onlookers smiling and cheering. Among them I spy Lynn and Jillian. Lynn waves and Jillian winks. The fact that they’re still here after we said goodbye, means they knew about the proposal. Bryant must have been in touch with them. I give them a smile and close my eyes to better enjoy the moment in my future husband’s arms.
Bryant pulls away and reaches for my hand, sending shock waves skittering through my body.
The ring doesn’t sport a huge rock, just a small emerald stone framed by tiny diamonds. Discrete and unique, perfect for me. Bryant knows I’m not the type who’d feel comfortable carrying a flashy ring around.
I glance down at it with a smile, appreciating its glint in the sunlight. When I look back at him—before I can say anything—his lips merge with mine. My world starts spinning all over again.
When we break apart, we find my mother standing over us, her face glowing with happiness.
Bryant helps me to my feet and kisses my cheek. “I’ll gather your things,” he whispers. “Then we need to get out of here to celebrate.” He approaches my suitcase, which is lying on its side, neglected.
“Don’t tell me it’s too soon.” I inject a warning in my tone. “He’s the one. I know he is.”
“He’s the right choice.” She takes my hand, admires the ring. “You never mentioned he owns the LaClaire cruise ships.”
“Because it doesn’t matter. What matters is that I love him and he loves me.”
Mom lets go of my hand and draws me into a hug. “He’s a good man.”
I pull away and narrow my eyes at her. “When we talked on the phone, you never told me he came to see you.”
“If there’s something I know how to do, it’s keeping secrets. He wanted it to be a surprise.”
I turn around, looking for Bryant. He’s surrounded by members of his staff, people shaking his hand and patting him on the back, congratulating him.
I smile at Mom. “I won’t let this one get away. Never in a million years.”
“Good. That’s very good.” She reaches for both of my hands. “I’m proud of the woman you’ve become. The woman who stands up for what she believes in. A woman who’s not afraid to take risks on the road to happiness. You’ll be a wonderful wife to Bryant.” She brings her lips to my ear, lowers her voice. “I’m happy it didn’t work out with Dustin. Apparently that girl was not his first victim. Looks like he’s going to prison for a long time.”
“I’m proud of you too, Mom.” I squeeze her hands, ignoring her news about Dustin, which I’ve already heard. I won’t waste my special moment thinking about him. “We’ve both come a long way. . .you and me.”
Mom pulls out a handkerchief and blows her nose. “Thank you.” Her fingertips brush my cheek. “As much as I want to continue basking in your happiness, I think you and your fiancé should celebrate alone first.”
“I like that idea.” Bryant shows up behind me, wrapping his arms around my middle, his chin rested on my shoulder.
My
mother kisses both of us on the cheeks and disappears into the throng of people. After she leaves, Jillian and Lynn show up to congratulate us before Bryant takes my hand and walks me back to the ship, a naughty grin on his face.
“Why don’t we go celebrate where it all started?”
“I like that idea even better.” As I walk away with the man of my dreams, my feet are barely touching the ground.
Epilogue
One Year Later
I lay my hands on my stomach, inhaling small breaths. In. Out. In. Out.
Shit.
I reach for Bryant and shake him awake. He groans. “What’s up, Sweetheart?”
I flick on my nightlight. “Don’t panic, okay?”
That’s exactly what he does. He jolts upright, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Is everything alright?”
“Bryant,” I whisper. “I think my water broke.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?” He flips back the covers and gets to his feet.
“It just happened.” I swallow hard, terrified about the labor pains that are already starting to warm my back and stomach.
“The baby is coming. We are going to be . . . I’m going to be a father.” He starts pacing around the room, a huge grin splitting his face. “I’m going to be a father.”
“Honey, calm down. I think we should go to the hospital.” I stiffen as the first real labor pain hits my belly. “Now.”
“Okay, sweetheart. Let’s go.” Wasting no more time, he takes control, as he does in business.
Bryant still owns the LaClaire cruises, but some of his ships now specialize in offering luxury holiday packages to people with disabilities. State-of-the-art amenities as well as the best doctors and therapists, ensure nothing stands in the way of the guests enjoying their vacations. What had begun as a simple idea I brought up to him late one night, has unfolded into something much bigger than us. Some of our favorite days are spent reading heartfelt customer reviews posted online. Most of the customers are regulars, including June Smith—my fragile client from when I worked on the LaClaire—who has been diagnosed with acute fibromyalgia and is unable to move around anymore without a wheelchair. But she’s still determined to live out her days in luxury.