“Well that’s wonderful, so now you’ll have to celebrate with a cruise every year. And you’ll come here of course . . . to see me.”
I smile over at him, “Maybe.”
The pizza arrived and we ate like fiends. It was excellent, and Roman was right, it was so good you couldn’t wait. I ended up burning the roof of my mouth, too.
“Roman, huh? That’s a bit unusual. You seem Celtic or Irish, not at all Italian.”
“Oh, I’m Irish, sure as I’m sitting here. The brogue is finally tamed, but I’ve got the temper and the stubbornness I was born with. County Cork, then Coventry, schools in Wales, Liverpool and even New York. Spent my first fourteen years as a youth on ships working my way up. The name Roman came from my dad, he was a gypsy. Brynes was the name of my mother’s family. My mum and dad never married, her family wouldn’t allow it.”
“Oh, that’s sad.”
“ ‘Tis. She died when I was twenty-two, he a few years later.”
“People shouldn’t interfere with other people’s lives.”
“Sounds like you might know a thing or two about that.”
“I taught school, at the elementary level. Watching kids grow up teaches you a thing or two. Parents can be twofaced and mean, and it’s so easy to see their kids picking it all up.”
“What about your children?”
“Oh, I didn’t have any. I married Tom late in life; we were only married thirteen years when he died. He had two kids in college and had already had a vasectomy when we met. So, no kids for me.”
“You sound like you regret it.”
“Oh, I often do.” I looked up at him wondering whether I should tell him or not. Oh, what the heck, it wasn’t like I was ever going to see him again. “I had an affair with one of the teachers at the school I taught at. I didn’t know he was married at the time. By the time I found out, I was in love and not strong enough to walk way. He kept saying he would divorce his wife when she got back from serving overseas and I believed him. Within two months of being back, she was pregnant. I was finally disillusioned enough to transfer to another school and move to another state. I had wasted seven years believing he loved me. Tom was the doctor I had to see about getting a Hepatitis B vaccination for the new school. He was divorced but I didn’t believe him. It took him a year to get me to go out with him. He faxed me his divorce decree and even the notification from his church that he was excommunicated because she had divorced him.”
There was silence as we both sipped our drinks.
“What about you—wife, kids, golden retriever?”
He laughed. “No, no wife. Came close a few times. Not too sure about the kids, but I don’t think so. The Golden was a husky and I’ve had a few exotic birds, now a handful of skinks—what you Yanks call Geckos I believe—currently live on my patio.”
The waitress brought our check and Roman quickly took possession of it. I took a final sip of my soda and gathered my hat and bag. “Well, I’d best be going. Thanks for the pizza, and the bargain you got me on my anklet.”
He stood as I got up and I watched as he nonchalantly peeled bills out of a very full money clip and dropped them onto the table on top of the bill. I remembered reading one time that you could judge a man by how he treated the servers in restaurants. He made straight A’s in tipping; it looked like he left more for the tip than the pizza could have possibly cost.
“I’d like to see you again.”
His voice was very male and his soft burr sent an enticing tingle throughout my body. It was a statement of fact and a request he didn’t expect to be denied in a very simply worded sentence. He unnerved me and I steeled myself so it wouldn’t show.
“We’re leaving tonight. And as it’s not likely that I’ll be back, it wouldn’t be such a good idea. I’m rather a hard person to get to know, there’d be no point.” I was trying to tell him as nicely as possible that I wasn’t a player. But I wasn’t sure he was getting the message.
He flashed a sideways smile. “Was I that obvious?”
I laughed. “No, no you weren’t. You had me fooled.” I hid my disappointment that he’d only been interested in a quick fling.
He took my arm and led me out of the tiny cafe. “I’ll see you back to the ship.”
“No, that won’t be necessary, there’s one or two more shops I might like to peek into on the way back. Just point me in the right direction as I’m a little turned around.”
He lifted his arm and pointed the way. It was a very male arm, browned by the sun and covered liberally with black curling hairs. I wanted to stroke it and to be stroked by it in return. A wetness was pooling between my legs and I realized that there was a drawback to not wearing underwear.
I held my hand out to shake his, but instead he used it to pull me to him so he could place a kiss on my cheek just below my ear. It felt wonderful and the tingle stayed long after he released me.
“You’re blushing again,” he said and chucked me under my chin with his knuckle. “Look for me to see you off tonight.” He ran his thumb along the inside of my arm, going from my wrist to my elbow and I could not believe the sexual jolt it gave me. My master seaman was a master seducer it seemed. I was having second thoughts about not letting him see me back to the ship, and from there to my stateroom.
“I will.”
Then I turned and walked back the way he had directed. I could feel his eyes on me, so the blush kept on blooming.
Chapter Three
The Captain’s table Dressing for dinner is one of my favorite things to do on board ship. Since I was a little girl I have always loved to play dress up. Sometimes that backfires on parents and they can never get their offspring out of jeans as adults, but not me. I could spell couture by first grade and they had to move my father’s tools out of the garage to build an additional closet for me when I was in junior high. I even rented out some of my less desirable clothes, those over three months old, when I was in high school and used the money to finance designer prom dresses. All that changed when I became a teacher of course, but I was still the best-dressed woman at the hoity-toity PTA meetings.
Tonight I was going to wear a very special dress, one I had ordered especially for this occasion. This was to be the formal evening of the cruise and I had prepared my outfit with great care. It was a sleek, white sleeveless gown; floor length with slits up the sides, made out of a material that was crisp, not clingy. The focal point was the squared off neckline that was actually a sailor’s collar. The contrast of the bright white and the navy blue was stunning against my pale skin, if I do say so myself. But the piece de resistance was the low cut back. It dipped in a large narrow V down my back to just barely above my, well my . . . you know. I couldn’t have designed a dress more suited to me, or more suited to the occasion. I kept my jewelry simple and wore gold earrings in the shape of anchors, and my new anklet. On my feet I had a strappy pair of navy blue sandals. I moussed my hair so that it had a windblown look and accessorized it all with a navy clutch featuring a ship’s wheel for the clasp.
In the floor length mirror I wondered if I had overdone it, but then smiled at myself. Nah! It was perfect. Out the door I went, carefree and having the time of my life.
I was stunned when I was denied access to my assigned section and table. The maitre d’ signaled with an upraised finger and an officer in a real navy uniform approached and put his hand on my elbow.
“The Captain would like you to join him at his table this evening.”
“Oh . . . well, that would be nice,” I replied as he led me through the dining room to the section where the head table was. All eyes followed and for a moment I was just a little self-conscious about my plunging, backless dress. I hadn’t known that I’d be paraded from one end of the dining room to the other. I listened intently for the low, quick murmurs; the women always give it away. If they lean over and whisper frantically to another woman, you know you look stunning and that they’re jealous and being catty. When they’re silent, you’re in trouble; you�
��ve offended or committed an unforgivable faux pas. As I walked past I could hear the breathy whispers and clucking tongues. My shoulders went back and I put a bit more sway into my sashay.
When I got to the head table the Captain and two other officers stood to introduce themselves. I smiled at the Captain and took his hand as the officer who had escorted me assisted me into my chair. I sat and as I did, I turned to face the officer resettling himself across from me. I could barely hear what the Captain was saying for the strange buzzing that suddenly filled my ears.
“Our local harbor pilot is joining us for dinner this evening before guiding us out of the harbor. Mrs. McMasters, this is Commander Brynes. Seated to his left is . . .” He went all the way around the table, but all I heard was Commander Brynes and all I saw were glinting gray-green eyes and an all too knowing smile. He was in full dress whites as were all the others and he looked quite impressive indeed.
“Mrs. McMasters, I trust you enjoyed your time in St. Thomas today?” Roman asked with feigned innocence.
“Yes, yes I did. I bought a nice anklet and discovered a wonderful out of the way place that has the most amazing pizza. I didn’t even mind that it burned my mouth . . . and my tongue.” I took a moment to touch my tongue to the tip of my upper lip. I watched as he tensed. Two can play.
“Oh yes, someone did say something to me today about our pizza onboard ship. Was that you Rome?”
I watched the man across from me laugh merrily, then heartily, then with all the gusto of a man totally amused. They were all in on it—the Captain most assuredly.
The first course was served and we all got down to the business of eating. Soon the conversation evolved into shop talk and I listened as Roman told the story of a U.S. Captain who’d had the privilege, honor and trepidation of bringing the world’s largest passenger liner to date into Boston Harbor in May of 2006. The 48-year old harbor pilot, who by luck of the draw, had been assigned to bring it all the way into the inner harbor. Roman was animated, funny, and full of details, things I knew nothing about, yet was impressed by all the same. I listened, fascinated as he told the story.
“The vessel is 1,111 feet long, and it was early on a Sunday morning, and naturally there was a thick fog over Boston’s inner harbor. Just as Bill Wright, the Captain of the Finnish-built ship, nudged the throttle to guide the enormous ship through perhaps the most difficult and potentially dangerous turn, he heard a series of thundering sounds whose vibrations caused the bridge’s flat panel screens and high tech gauges to shudder. He thought he had hit something with his ship, The Freedom of the Seas, at that point in time, the largest ship in the world—certainly the largest to ever enter Boston Harbor. He thought his hand had hit something that it shouldn’t have. At 160,000 gross tons, 10,000 more than the heretofore-previous titleholder, the QE2, the potential for disaster could not be overstated. He didn’t see how, but thought it might be possible he could have hit one of the boats cruising nearby. There were hundreds of pleasure boats in the harbor that morning, all mesmerized by this huge ship. When he heard the sound again he realized that it came from above not below. He watched as a US Airways jet came in low as a salute and barely cleared the 208-foot-tall ship on her way to Logan International Airport. What a nervewracking welcome and one he clearly will never forget.
“The 800 million dollar ship, equipped with the most modern satellite-guided systems still requires human oversight to come into port, especially where there is high traffic and not much room to maneuver. So by federal maritime law, a harbor pilot named Chris Hoyt came on board to bring it in. It took him and his apprentice five minutes to go from ladder to elevator and up fifteen stories until they reached the huge glass-covered bridge where they took the ship over from Captain Wright and escorted the ship into the inner harbor.”
“What’s the biggest ship you’ve brought in?” The Captain asked Roman.
“The QE2 into several Caribbean ports, but nothing as tight as Boston Harbor. I’ve boarded The Freedom of the Seas, but it’s never been my job to bring it into port, and thank God for that!”
Everyone laughed, myself included, but I’m sure Roman saw the admiration in my eyes before I shuttered them.
Just before the last course was served, I excused myself to go to the ladies room. I needed a moment. The man across the table from me was quickly and thoroughly taking control of my body. I was becoming nervous, flushed, and totally immersed by those fathomless sea mist green eyes and the voice that was so lyrical that I wanted to sit and listen to it forever.
I was aware of the provocative dip my gown made toward the lowest part of my spine as I walked away from Roman and all the others seated at my table. As I passed one table after another, I actually heard people shift in their chairs to follow my progress as I turned and walked away. I could feel Roman’s eyes following me, so much so that I was tempted to reach a hand behind me and cover that scant inch or two that drew the eye even lower.
As I was walking back to my seat a few minutes later, Roman and the Captain appeared to be having a difference of opinion. I was just in time to see Roman point his fork at the Captain and make several jabs in the air with it. “Okay, okay, I’ll do it. But you’re going to owe me, just remember that.”
They both stopped talking at the exact same instant when they noticed I had returned to the table. As they had when I left, they all stood again. It was quite nice to be so revered.
My dessert, a scrumptious-looking cheesecake with several colors of crisscrossing sauces, was waiting for me and I dug in. If there’s anything I have a real weakness for, it’s cheesecake. And Baked Alaska, and strawberry shortcake, and a good carrot cake. Okay, okay, I love desserts, and on a cruise like this it’s tempting to order one of each, but I know my limit. After seven courses, one dessert is more than enough.
As the waiters began clearing the dishes, I stood and excused myself. “I have a prior engagement. If you’ll please excuse me Captain, it was a delight having dinner with you. Thank you for asking. Commander Brynes, I trust you’ll see us safely on our way.” I turned to the others at our table and nodded, and then I turned and walked away. I had to get away from that man before I begged him to take me with him when he jumped off the ship after taking us out of the harbor.
Chapter Four
A cruise director who should walk the plank I went to Rendez Vous Square where I had signed up to participate in a speed dating activity that had sounded like fun at the time. Now it sounded like a big waste of time.
I checked in just before the event began and was instructed to go to station 19 when the bell rang, which it immediately did. I took the prepared list of questions I’d worked on out of my purse. They all sounded ludicrous now.
I sat in front of a gentleman whose nametag said Maury. He was maybe twenty years older than I and had bad teeth. But I smiled and asked him my first question. “Have you been married before?”
“Yup. Four times. Can’t seem to keep them around though.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“I dunno. I give ‘em anything that they want. Take ‘em to ballgames ‘n such. I think they must just want my money. I own appliance stores.”
“Oh. Maybe you should consider a pre-nup next time.”
“I did the last time.” “What happened?”
“She refused to marry me.”
“So you married her anyway?”
“Yup. That’s my big regret for 2004.”
“Hmm . . .” I looked back down at my paper. “Do you smoke?”
“Hell yeah. I get these cigars online. They’re the real deal. Two hundred dollars a box, but worth every single penny.”
“Do you like to read?”
“Yeah, I read the paper and the sports line so I can get the odds at the track—” The bell rang.
“Hey, I didn’t get to ask you nuttin’.”
“I’m sorry, maybe on round two.”
He grumbled and got up and Andy took his place.
�
��Hi!” He’s all cheery and red faced. I wonder if he’s been drinking. He sits down and almost falls off the seat. Hmm, this is not good.
“What do you like to do when you’re not working,” I ask.
“I have an ATVand a dirt bike. I like to get out on the track and whip it up.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?”
“’Course it is. That’s what makes it so much fun.”
“Uh, you married before?” I go back to the question number one.
“”Yes, to Charlene, prettiest girl that I’ve ever seen. Although you are quite a peach yourself.”
“What happened to Charlene?”
“I’d rather not say.”
“Oh.” There’s silence for a while. “You have any questions for me?” Hey, I’m just trying to play the game here.
“Yeah, what’s your room number?”
Bing!
Josef is next and he’s real nice and about my age, but he’s having a hard time as he doesn’t speak English very well. We manage to smile and nod to each other for our three minutes. Bing!
And guess who sits down next? He slumps into the chair as if exhausted but he can’t quite manage messy, maybe it’s the uniform. “This is hard work, you found any decent prospects yet?”
I laugh hilariously, a huge belly laugh that has me hugging my sides.
“I like a woman who knows how to laugh,” he says with a devilish smile.
“Why are you here?” I ask, because clearly this is an anomaly.
“The Captain. It was what we were arguing about when you went to the powder room and gave me such a marvelous view. I love that dress by the way. Anyhow, this was all his idea. They were one man short for this gig and he said it would be worth my while if I participated and evened out the mix. I should have known he had something up his sleeve. He must’ve known you were an entrant, so to speak.”
We just smiled at each other and then I asked, “So do you have any questions?”
“Many. But none I can ask here. How about you?”
The Widows of Sea Trail-Tessa of Crooked Gulley Page 3