by Julie Cannon
“All right, Lowe,” Mother said. “That girl is not our kind. She is not up to the level with which we choose to associate. For God’s sake, she works for us,” she said with emphasis. “If you want to have a casual affair, then please keep it to yourself. We do not parade around with the help, and we certainly don’t marry them.” The tone of her voice was as distasteful as the words she’d spoken. Victoria nodded in smug agreement.
“We forbid it,” she added, as if her words were the eleventh commandment.
“You…you forbid it?” I asked, shocked at the snobbery and audacity of her words.
“Yes. We will not have you—”
I calmly folded my napkin and laid it on the table beside my crystal water glass. “I’m a grown woman, and I’ve been making my own decisions for many years. You have not dictated anything about my life since I was eighteen years old, and I will not allow you to start now.” I stood and pushed my chair in. “I’ll have the purser collect my things within the hour.” I walked out of my parents’ apartment knowing I’d never step foot inside it again.
The hostess showed me to their table, and I sat down. My greeting was polite, yet cold.
My father’s cocktail glass was almost empty, and my mother’s expression was pinched. Somehow, I’d escaped the ordeal of Victoria in attendance as well.
Our waitress, who, thank God wasn’t Faith, appeared almost immediately, and I ordered a double Crown and Coke. I might not be at the table long, and I’d definitely need it.
My parents perused their menu like this was a normal, everyday family dinner. I had no appetite but needed something to occupy my hands and attention. I couldn’t make out the items in small print and realized my hands were shaking. I laid my menu on the table and folded my hands over it.
My drink arrived, and our server probably could sense the tension between us and left us alone. I waited for either the inquisition or the lecture to begin. It wouldn’t be long.
“Have you given any thought to our recent conversation?” my mother asked. Her tone was so matter-of-fact, she could have been asking if I’d decided where we should have lunch tomorrow.
“I think moving to one of the guest suites signaled my intentions,” I replied, sipping my cocktail. Captain Waverly hadn’t asked when he gave me the card key to apartment 805. My mother’s face didn’t move, but I saw a slight tic in the corner of her right eye. She was pissed. I’d never gone against her wishes since I’d never had a strong-enough reason to. Until now. Faith was walking into the restaurant on the arm of Theodore Blackwell.
Faith looked amazing. She was wearing the same black dress she’d worn to the Cobalt party, but she had accessorized it with a brightly colored scarf around her neck, a wide gold belt, and a pair of casual sandals. Her hair was down, a bangle of bracelets on her left wrist.
She had yet to see me, and I watched the hostess lead them to their table on the other side of the room. Mr. Blackwell held her chair, and after she settled in and looked up, our eyes met.
The air between us sizzled like an energized electrical line. My breathing turned shallow and my insides into mush. She was beautiful, and I wished I was the one sitting across from her.
“Are you even listening to me, Lowe?”
Hearing my name drew my attention away from Faith. “Obviously not, Mother. What did you say?” I really didn’t care. It would be more of the same, and I wasn’t interested and didn’t even want to waste my time listening to her.
“I said we think you’re making a big mistake. Your father and I have taught you the difference between right and wrong and the importance of character in our family. We expected more from you.” The past tense signaled their profound disappointment.
I looked between her and my father, a sudden sadness filling my bones. I hadn’t lived up to their standards. A mirror sense of their failure as my parents, whose only concern should be the happiness of their child, flooded me. Why did it matter who I loved as long I was loved in return? What was so important that overrode my euphoria at finding the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with? Who was to say Faith couldn’t be a part of this family, my family? Where was it written that my parents should determine my future?
Nothing, no one, and nowhere, which is exactly where we were right now. We weren’t at an impasse. I’d made my decision and was moving on, either with or without them in my life. I folded my napkin neatly and placed it on my menu.
“I’m sorry you’re disappointed in me,” I said, careful not to use the phrase “I’m sorry I disappointed you.” It was a subtle, yet distinct difference. “But I’m going to live my life the way I see fit and have people in it who love and support me. If that’s not you, then I truly am sorry.” I rose from the table, walked away, and didn’t look back.
***
My dinner with Mr. B was a bust. I’d been looking forward to it all afternoon, but the minute I saw Lowe across the dining room, my heart lurched, and I just wanted to crawl under the table and not come out until the pain disappeared. We were arriving in Fiji the day after tomorrow, then five days to Hawaii after that. I had no idea how long she would be on board, and if I kept reacting like this, I’d be a complete mess by the time she did leave.
I tried to pay attention to Mr. B. He was a sweet guy and always had a lot of interesting things to say, but I couldn’t focus. I could see Lowe directly over his left shoulder, and my eyes kept drifting to her. She didn’t look happy, and I wondered what she and her parents were talking about. They should be thrilled that she’d stayed on, but it certainly didn’t look like it.
Suddenly, Lowe rose from the table, pushed her chair in, and walked away. She looked shaken, and instead of heading directly for the exit, she detoured our way. The closer she got to our table, the more relaxed she appeared.
“Good evening, Mr. Blackwell, Faith,” she said, greeting us both. “I don’t mean to intrude, but I just wanted to stop by and say hello and invite you to a poker game tomorrow on deck twelve,” Lowe said, directing her invitation to Mr. B.
“Poker? I love poker,” Mr. B. said excitedly. “Absolutely. What time?”
“One thirty. No money. Just bragging rights.”
Lowe smiled at him and laid her hand casually on his shoulder. She was completely focused on Mr. B., and he came alive under the attention. She turned to me. “You’re welcome too, Faith.”
The pull of her gaze was powerful, and it almost sucked me in. She was looking at me intently, and I needed to remember our situation. “Thanks, but I’ve got plans.” I did have plans. Tomorrow was my day off, and I’d decided to stay in my room and wallow in self-pity.
“Well, if you change your mind, you know where we’ll be. You two have a nice dinner.”
Lowe looked at me again for a long moment, then walked away.
“She’s so friendly,” Mr. B. said, smiling.
“Yes, she is,” I replied.
“She’s so unlike her sister and her parents.” He looked around like a spy passing on secret information. “I don’t mean to talk ill of people, but her sister is a snob. Takes after her mother. They’re awful. Just because I don’t own an apartment on their floor, I’m not worth their time.” He tsked. “People like that should be brought down a peg or two.”
It was easier to pay attention with Lowe out of the room, and I did my best to be an enjoyable, engaged dinner companion. I don’t know what we talked about, but it was nothing heavy. Finally, he called it a night, and I was able to leave.
I was too keyed up to sleep, so I strolled around the deck. As I approached the pool I saw a figure lying in one of the lounge chairs. As I got closer, I recognized it was Lowe. She hadn’t seen me yet, so I had the opportunity to turn around before she did. I kept moving forward.
“How was your dinner?” Lowe asked as I approached.
“It was good, and the company enjoyable. Mr. B. is a sweet man.”
“I heard he lost his wife not too long ago.”
“It’s been almo
st a year,” I replied.
“It was nice of you to have dinner with him.”
“Nice has nothing to do with it. I enjoy his company.”
The air between us was still. My heart, on the other hand, was pounding.
“Would you like to sit?” Lowe motioned to the chair to her left.
I knew I shouldn’t, but I pulled it over and sat down.
Chapter Thirty
I was more than a little surprised when Faith agreed to join me. I thought for sure she’d make some excuse, and when she pulled the chair close, a star twinkled above me. We sat silently for some time, a meteor shower blanketing the sky overhead. I was calm, a complete shift of my emotions after the few minutes with my parents. I was still hurt and angry, but those feelings were much less prominent with Faith beside me. A vague recollection of our first day together when I’d joked with Faith about how I needed her beside me, especially when I visited my parents, had come true.
“How are your parents?”
“Disappointed.”
“In what?”
“Me.” Faith turned and looked at me.
“You? What did you do?”
“Didn’t get off the ship in Sydney.”
“Excuse me?” Faith said, clearly confused.
“They’re upset that I stayed on board.”
“Why?”
“Because I fell for a beautiful, charming, smart, sexy, exciting, desirable woman who happens to work here. She’s a bit younger than I am, and that, in and of itself, could be scandalous in my parents’ circle. She’s delightful, funny, thoughtful, and takes care of her family. Her eyes are the color of ebony when she’s mad and burning embers when she’s aroused. She’s considerate, attentive, passionate, silly, and the best damn kisser I’ve ever known. She’s captivating, mesmerizing, and has fascinated me from the moment we met.”
Faith didn’t move. I don’t think she even breathed. I hadn’t meant to spring it on her like that, but it just came out. I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to.
I swung my legs over the side of the chair and faced her. I tried to chuckle. “My BFF Charlotte always says go big or go home.”
Finally, Faith spoke, her voice barely a whisper, “Well, you certainly accomplished one of them.”
I took several deep breaths, preparing to jump into a place I’ve never been, where joy and happiness overflowed and beauty and ecstasy stretched as far as I can see. It was a place where time stood still and the future rushed forward at the same time, a situation where I had no idea what to do or how to do it, but I did know I couldn’t possibly back out now. I leapt. “I’ve fallen for you, Faith.”
Faith wouldn’t look at me, but I could see the muscles in her jaw working.
“That’s two go-bigs,” she said hesitantly.
“Yeah, well…I, uh…didn’t mean to drop it in your lap like this, but—”
“When did you intend to?”
I detected a hint of anger in her voice. “I hadn’t actually gotten that far. It probably would have been over a nice dinner or a glass of wine on the deck. Something a little more romantic or private.”
“And what am I supposed to do with this information?”
I wasn’t expecting this reaction, regardless of the setting. I’d thought she’d at least say she felt something for me. At least I’d hoped she would.
The longer we sat there, the more I began to realize I might be wrong, very wrong. Faith looked everywhere but at me.
“I don’t know, Faith. I guess I was hoping you kind of liked me back,” I finally said. I winced at the childishness of my words. I was trying to ease some of the tension between us with humor, but it appeared I had failed.
She turned to me, her facial expression not what I expected. I saw anguish in her eyes, and fear. My heart suddenly ached for putting it there.
“And we’d do what? Row into the sunset and live happily ever after?” She fisted her hands, squinted her eyes shut, and frowned like she had a bad headache. Her eyes opened, and she whipped her head around to face me again. “You don’t even know me. It’s not going to happen.”
I barely had a chance to get my legs out of the way as she stood and then hurried across the deck and through a pair of green doors.
Chapter Thirty-one
Day 26
Malolo, Fiji
Sand tickled the bottom of my bare feet as I crossed a gently curved wooden bridge spanning crystal-clear water to reach my cabana. I’d gotten the place after another guest at the Likuliki Lagoon Resort had canceled at the last minute. A tender had taken me to Malolo Island earlier this afternoon, leaving behind my parents and Faith. If only my tangled emotions were as easy. As I approached the grass-thatched building, I found it ironic that the seclusion I needed to clear my head was that which was highly sought after by lovers.
Green grass covered most of the man-made petite island, trees and native plants creating plenty of shade. Four steps led to a patio with a fabulous view of the bay. I stepped inside. The floor was polished to a sheen that reflected the mid-afternoon sun. Four-inch wooden shutters covered every window, most of which were open, allowing the breeze to float through the long, narrow room. It reminded me of those advertisements on Facebook about the perfect private vacation spot. I dropped my bag at the foot of the bed and, after dropping my shoes onto the floor and grabbing a bottle of water from the stocked refrigerator, headed to the front patio.
Several hours later I had yet to figure out what I was going to do. I was still reeling from my conversation with my father this morning.
“Sleep well?”
My father sat down beside me, his long, tanned legs filling the length of the chaise by the pool. His deck shoes looked brand-new.
“For the most part, yes,” I said honestly. I’d tossed and turned and fretted about my feelings for Faith and my family’s very vocal disapproval.
The silence between us was uncomfortable. I sensed that my father had something more to say, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to
hear it. Everyone had made their view as clear as the water in
the pool. I’d seen a very different side of them this trip, and quite frankly, I didn’t like it, or them. I’d never be friends with my sister, and my mother, well, she was at an entirely different level of disapproval.
The realization that this would be my last trip filled me more with relief than sadness. I’d obviously keep in touch, but my visits going forward would be brief and in a location where they were in port. I’d fly there, visit for a few days, then take my own vacation. I felt as if a suffocating blanket had been lifted off my shoulders. The air was cleaner, the sun brighter.
“I want you to be happy, Lowe, and if Faith is the woman who makes you feel that way, then I’m happy for you.”
His words stunned me. My father had never talked to me about my love for women. It was just something we never spoke about. He’d barely acknowledged it when I told them on Christmas break my senior year in college and dropped the bombshell that had changed our lives. My mother had been livid, Victoria more worried that her friends would think she was queer, and my father still hadn’t recovered from my announcement earlier in the day that I was not going on to law school.
Now he was what? Giving me his blessing? He had never, ever, ever gone against anything my mother said. Holy shit.
“I beg your pardon?” That was all I could say. I needed a minute to process.
“You heard me,” he said, his gaze never leaving the water. “Life is too short to live it unhappy. If you’ve learned nothing from me, please learn this.”
He left me alone on the deck, but not before laying his hand gently on my shoulder for several seconds.
I had no idea how long I sat there in complete disbelief.
I cared about Faith, deeply. No, that was bullshit. I was in love with her, and I had to have her in my life. She made me laugh, think, and live. I’d only thought I was happy. With Faith I was alive. She made me soar with happiness. Whoever
said that giving is better than getting must have been talking about making love with the woman you love. With her by my side I could accomplish anything, but if for some reason I couldn’t, I wanted her beside me to pick up the pieces and help me move on.
But she didn’t want me. I had thick skin, but this realization almost knocked me to my knees. Nausea threatened to send me to the bushes, but I tapped it down from sheer will. I had to go on. I had a thriving business I loved, good friends, and a full life.
At least I’d thought I had a full life until I met Faith. Now I just felt empty, like the hollow pit in my stomach. I’d go home and pick up where I’d left off, but it wouldn’t be the same. The famous line of poetry from Alfred Lord Tennyson about it being better to love and lose than never try it barged into my head. What complete and total bullshit.
***
“Earth to Faith.”
Raul’s voice penetrated the fog that had been my constant companion ever since I’d left Lowe on the deck what felt like just yesterday.
I’d run from Lowe both literally and figuratively. Her declaration had come out of nowhere, and I wasn’t prepared. I didn’t know what to do. No one had ever reached into my soul the way Lowe had, and I was scared. Plain and simple, I was scared to death.
Raul and I were eating breakfast at one of the small coffee shops on deck nine. We’d docked in Malolo during the night. My tired, bloodshot eyes were in constant motion for any sign of Lowe. She was the last thing I needed this morning.
“Tell me, chica,” Raul said, his voice gentle and encouraging. I told Raul the entire story.
“You had to have known something was up,” he said like I was an idiot. “Why else would she have stayed?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because her family is here?” I barked, not sparing the sarcasm. “Jeez, I’m sorry, Raul.” I laid my hand on top of his. “I’m just so messed up. I don’t know what to do.”