Shattered at Sea

by Cheryl Hollon

  Squeezing in a family visit before the cruise ship embarked was an opportunity Edward couldn’t resist. Savannah was looking forward to seeing Edward’s parents again.

  The first special treat was the short line for business class passengers at the check-in counter. The second treat was the pre-check TSA line through security, followed by the third treat, a pass to the airport lounge to await boarding time.

  They enjoyed a local craft beer accompanied by small plates of finger food. Savannah pulled out the illustrated instruction manual she had received from Crystal Glass Works that detailed the procedures for glassblowing with the electric hot shop on board the cruise ship. She reviewed the handwritten notes she had made in the margins when she took the training class.

  When their boarding time was called, Edward and Savannah walked into the business class cabin and Savannah gaped at the size of her personal space. Their large, wide seats were in the center aisle so that they sat side by side yet each had unrestricted access to the aisle. She hefted her carry-on into the ample overhead compartment.

  In her seat, the best available noise-canceling Bose headphones were sitting on top of a decent-sized pillow and a quilted duvet. A small amenity kit contained slip-on socks, a sleep mask, ear plugs, moisturizer, toothbrush, toothpaste, lip balm, and breath mints.

  As soon as Savannah had settled into her seat, a flight attendant offered her a glass of champagne. “Welcome aboard, Miss Webb. I hope you enjoy your flight.”

  Savannah turned to Edward who had also received his glass of champagne. They looked at each other and clicked glasses. Savannah toasted, “Good luck to us on the first of many international adventures. Cheers.”

  Chapter 2

  Saturday morning, Arrivals Hall in

  Heathrow Airport, England

  Savannah felt Edward’s hand on her elbow as he guided her through a confusing assault of bright lights, blaring announcements, and scurrying passengers of every type. She looked at Edward’s focused smile. He likes this kind of challenge. Relax—he’s got this. Let him shine.

  In minutes, they were outside in the chilly autumn air. Edward stood on his toes, peered across the street, and waved his arm. A small red MINI Cooper car pulled up and a not-quite-so-tall replica of Edward got out of the car and popped the trunk.

  “Hello, you must be Savannah. I’m Ian Morris, Edward’s better-looking cousin.” Savannah shook his outstretched hand and matched his winning grin with a surprised smile.

  “Hey,” said Edward, helping to get their two suitcases and carry-on bags crammed into the boot with practiced efficiency. “Who says you’re the better-looking cousin? Certainly not my mum, but maybe yours. Savannah, you be the judge.”

  “Ian, you look exactly like a younger”—she playfully patted Edward’s tummy—“slimmer version of Edward.”

  “Oi!” yelped Edward as he sucked in the start of a beer belly. “I’m going to work this off on the cruise.”

  Ian scrunched his brow. “From what I’ve been told, we should all expect to gain at least a stone. I intend to gain mine downing exotic drinks with tiny brollies stuck in them.”

  Savannah enjoyed their easy banter. “Your parents must be very proud of your achievements to give you this cruise as a graduation present.”

  Ian’s face flashed a dark look, then he grinned. “Yeah, I took a wayward path to University, but I got there at the end of the day.”

  She gingerly folded herself into the backseat on the left-hand side of the car. It felt odd that she was on the passenger side until they pulled out onto the road.

  Her heart leaped to her throat in disorientation. The cars are driving in the wrong direction! She blinked several times and calmed herself.

  Savannah grabbed the back of the front seat and the hold bar above the top of the window to wedge herself against the sway of the swerving car as it sped around a traffic circle to emerge onto a small country road. “Ian! Did you make that turn on two wheels?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I am required to keep at least two wheels on the pavement at all times. Three wheels is harder and four on the ground is just plain boring and I’m not a bore.”

  Savannah tapped Edward on the shoulder. He turned. “Are we going to survive this drive?”

  “Yes, Ian likes to make an exciting first impression, but he settles down as soon as I remind him of the standard death threat he receives if he doesn’t start driving like a sane person instantly. Ian. This is your one and only warning.”

  Ian switched gears and reduced his speed to pace the other cars on the road. Savannah was fascinated with the amount of gear changing going on with Ian’s left hand on the gear knob while he steered with the right.

  Savannah wedged herself even farther back into the seat. They headed north to a mid-sized town called St. Albans, about twenty-five miles as the crow flies but more than forty as the road twisted. It was the family village where most of Edward’s relations lived.

  Savannah felt a little disoriented. Her eyes were a bit gritty and she was thirsty. She was right at the point of nodding off when they arrived. She gave her head a quick shake.

  This must be jet lag. I never noticed the Seattle to St. Petersburg time difference when I visited Dad.

  They pulled into a short driveway in front of a two-story, freestanding house with batten and beam construction on the outer walls. It was the real 1750s deal. The roof was traditionally thatched and all the multipaned windows had fairytale shutters with flowerboxes spilling over with bright blooms and ivy.

  The glossy black door opened and Edward’s mother scurried out to accept a kiss on her cheek from her son and then she kissed Savannah on each cheek and gave her a gentle hug.

  “Darling, I’m so happy you’re here. Welcome to St. Albans.” Glenda was plump with a cheerful flush on the apples of her high cheeks. Her smile was easy—it creased her face with crow’s feet and dimples—and her eyes were the same shade of green that Savannah loved in Edward.

  Glenda Morris was followed by Edward’s father, Ronald, who shook Edward’s hand.

  “Welcome to our home, girl.” Ron shook Savannah’s hand and placed a quick smooch on her cheek. “We’ve been waiting for you.” He puffed out his chest like a new papa.

  Savannah wondered if this was normal or if they were adding more affection to their greetings because she was an American. They hadn’t seen Edward in a few months, but they acted as if it had been only a few days.

  They went through the front door into a cramped entry that revealed the door to a powder room and a wooden stairway to the upper story. Through an open archway to her right, Savannah glimpsed the living room fireplace. It was the focal point of the room, and there was also a large comfy sofa, two facing love seats, and a coffee table in the center space. The floor was covered by an oriental rug too large for her to see its edges.

  Before she could see anything else, the menfolk carried their luggage to an upstairs bedroom and Glenda told them from the bottom of the stairs that they had about an hour to freshen up. Luncheon would be served family-style in the kitchen on the ground floor at the back of the house.

  Savannah pulled the laptop out of her briefcase and set it up on an ancient but sturdy table in front of one of the dormer windows that looked out through the sharply trimmed thatch roofing. There was a clear crystal vase filled with pink heritage roses on the windowsill. Beside it was a small china dish of wrapped sweets. Nice touch.

  Edward walked up from behind, wrapped his arms around her, and buried his head in her shoulder. “They’ve given us the guest quarters with the en suite bathroom. This is rather special. Mum only lets her parents stay here. I usually get my childhood single bedroom, which is the tiny room next door to this one with the shared bathroom at the end of the hall. What does Mum have up her sleeve?”

  “I think she’s trying to tell you in the sweetest possible way that perhaps you might be an adult now.”

  Savannah thought it was a pitch by his mother to acknowledge their rel
ationship. Savannah felt comfortable in her situation with Edward. He lived in her home now with her dog Rooney and his kitten Snowy.

  Is marriage really my next step?

  Edward screwed up his face. “Oh, that’s fine, then.” He hugged her tighter and kissed the back of her neck. “Are you still jet-lagged?”

  “Mm mm.” Savannah relaxed into him for a moment before straightening up. “Nice, but I think it’s time to behave. Do I have time to check my e-mail?”

  He checked his watch. “Lunch is typically at one o’clock and it’s now going on noon. Sure.” He walked up behind her and reached around to give her a snuggle. “You already look scrumptious. No freshening up needed for you.”

  “Mm mm.” Savannah turned in his arms, distracted by his attentions, until his words sunk in. She stiffened. “It’s after twelve? I need to take a shower and change and I would imagine you would, too. I’ll go first and then I’ll work my e-mail while you’re getting ready. Yikes, there’s not much time.”

  “Relax, Mum doesn’t operate on a strict schedule. She’s relaxed about family meals.” Edward pressed his lips tight. “Her catering jobs? That’s an entirely different story.”

  “Still, I don’t want to annoy her in my first hour.”

  “You won’t. I think I’ll check my e-mail as well. Nicole has been running things so smoothly that I sometimes forget I actually own the pub.”

  Savannah stepped into the bathroom for a quick shower, but stood there faced with an undecipherable set of shower controls. She pushed, poked, pulled, prodded the dials in all combinations—no water.

  “Edward, I can’t figure out how the shower works.”

  After kissing her on the back of the neck again, Edward reached into the shower. “You have to pull each faucet out, then turn it to set the flow. Good?”

  Savannah nodded. “And it’s the opposite to turn them off?”

  Edward smiled and nodded. “The hot water has another stop for extra hot water—but be careful with that.”

  After her shower, Savannah towel-dried her hair and mentally thanked her mother for passing on the curly black hair gene that was a genuine one-step, wash-and-dry style. When she got out her toothbrush and toothpaste, that’s when she felt her jet lag again. On the sink was a faucet labeled HOT and a faucet labeled COLD. Each faucet had a single spigot. She stood in front of the sink holding her loaded toothbrush. She had never encountered a sink with separate water flows.

  She shrugged, wet her toothbrush under the cold water, filled one of the paper cups with a mixture of hot and cold, and brushed her teeth.

  Not particularly an earth-changing difference, but Edward was right—you can’t get this experience from a book. She stepped out of the bathroom to find Edward cross-legged on the bed typing away on his laptop.

  She changed into casual jeans and an I LOVE THE ’BURG T-shirt she had picked up at a fund-raiser. Then she slipped on a brand-new pair of Dockers. The boat shoes were the same type that she wore for work, and due to her public role in demonstrating glass-blowing, she felt she deserved a new pair. She needed to break them in as much as she could before the performances started aboard the cruise ship.

  As soon as Edward was in the shower, she opened her laptop and signed into the Morrises’ Wi-Fi. The first e-mail in her in-box was from Amanda.

  Hi Savannah! I hope your flight was smooth and you are settled into Edward’s place.

  I love housesitting your bungalow. My tiny garage apartment feels even smaller now that I’m experiencing the convenience of having plenty of room for cooking. You have a great kitchen!

  Rooney was a little anxious after our walk last night. I think it finally dawned on him that you wouldn’t be coming back for the night. Weimaraners are certainly high-energy dogs! Eventually he settled but spent a lot of time pacing from your bedroom to the kitchen and whining at me as if I could magically change into you.

  Little Snowy is missing Edward; she’s curled up in his reclining chair right now, but I’m managing her loneliness with lots of play and treats. She has these spells of frenetic energy and attacks everything that comes her way. Her new trick is to jump onto Rooney’s back. She stalks along the back of the couch and pounces on him when he walks by on his way to your room.

  Don’t worry! Things are fine. I’ll e-mail every day just like you said.

  X O X O X Amanda

  Savannah felt slightly giddy. She hadn’t been aware that she was worried about Rooney until Amanda’s e-mail. He was her dad’s puppy and Rooney dealt with some abandonment issues after Mr. Webb’s death. But Amanda could charm the stars from the sky. She shouldn’t have worried.

  The next most important e-mail was from her glass shop apprentice, Jacob Underwood. Although he was upfront about his struggles with Asperger’s syndrome, he was growing into a great employee and consequently growing out of his apprenticeship role.

  Dear Miss Savannah, here is my report for Friday.

  The studio—All students visited their workspace.

  My custom work—The pattern for my commission piece is tacked down on the largest worktable. I have checked that all the special sheets of glass are in stock except one.

  I have ordered that sheet from the vendor. Calls—The phone didn’t ring today.

  Sincerely yours,

  Jacob Underwood, Apprentice, Webb’s Studio

  P.S. Suzy says hi.

  Savannah smiled as she thought of how rigidly reserved Jacob had been when she took over Webb’s Glass Shop at the beginning of the year. Suzy, his service beagle, was a big part of his growing confidence and maturity. He had no idea how grateful Savannah felt that he thrived by working on stained-glass restorations.

  She also felt the guiding hand of his juvenile-court-judge mother in the structure of this e-mail. It must have cost him some pride to ask her for help. All eighteen-year-olds hated that.

  Edward is taking his time in the shower.

  They had been living together for a few months. It happened after an investigation into the death of her high school boyfriend. She had to admit that it was a struggle at times to be considerate of a partner. She felt he was worth the effort.

  She skimmed through the rest of her inbox and filed most of them away for later. Edward stepped out of the shower. “I’m running late. I nearly fell asleep under the running water. Go on down. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  She put on a swipe of lip-gloss and made her way downstairs. The heavenly smell of roast lamb and some sort of pastry met her as she reached the bottom of the stairs and turned into the kitchen.

  While the rest of the cottage had been meticulously maintained in its original eighteenth-century form, the enormous kitchen was a page out of a chef’s glossy coffee table book. Along the far wall, a bright red cooker stood inside a fireplace alcove that still had the original spit mechanisms in place. Along the back wall of the house was a deep double-sized farm sink with a modern goose-necked faucet under a wide window that reached up to the ceiling. Inside the deep access on each side of the window were the original folding door panels for closing out the winter cold. In front of the sink stood a large waist-high butcher block table that probably had gotten those curved valleys in its surface from the knife of a real butcher in a real butcher’s shop. The other wall was taken up by a commercial-sized refrigerator, more counter space, and a professional eight-burner stove.

  The near end of the kitchen was taken up by a large wooden table. Along the inside wall stood an ancient Welsh kitchen dresser packed with china plates, cups, and figurines. The well-used table paired with six Windsor chairs could easily seat ten without blinking an eye.

  “Oh, good, you’re down.” Glenda was adding butter to a huge bowl of mashed potatoes. “Savannah, pet. Would you mind filling the water glasses?”

  “I’d love to.” Savannah opened both refrigerators and realized that neither side was a freezer. “Where’s the ice?”

  “Ice? Oh, of course, you were born in Florida. We don’t us
e ice; the water from the tap is perfectly chilled. Use the pitcher on the table and then refill it.”

  The table was set for five but instead of cloth place mats, the mats were a stiff fiberboard with a scene of St. Albans Cathedral on the front. Savannah picked one up and found a layer of cork on the back. The knife, fork, and spoon were wrapped in the embroidered napkins. Two wine bottles of a French cabernet sauvignon were open. A large basket was filled with dinner rolls and wrapped in another embroidered napkin.

  “The table setting is fantastic. Do you embroider?”

  “Heavens, no. I can barely mend. My sister-in-law, Ian’s mother, is the textile artist. She inherited that talent from her mother. I received this ensemble as a wedding gift, and her Mum also gave me a set for more formal occasions. I’ll show it to you this afternoon. As an artist, I’m sure you’ll appreciate the intricate needlework.”

  Savannah cleared the sudden catch in her throat and her heart warmed. It wasn’t normal for her to have a gushy reaction, but Edward meant a lot to her. “This is where Edward learned to cook, isn’t it?”

  After setting the copper roasting dish on a waiting hot pad on the table, Glenda smiled. “Yes, and a wonderful student he was. Not at first, mind you. Like all teenaged boys, he didn’t take to cooking immediately, but as he got better, something clicked. From that point on, I couldn’t keep him out of the kitchen.”

  A great clattering of rapid steps on the stairway heralded Edward’s entrance into the kitchen.

  “That and I learned a great many other things in this kitchen.” Edward pulled the chair out for Savannah. “This is where I finished all my homework while Mum created the most amazing dishes out of nothing but simple, fresh ingredients and exotic spices. Her catering business is still chugging along even though she has tried to retire.”