Feisty Heroines Romance Collection of Shorts

by D. F. Jones

  She made a quick U-turn heading back to the Starbucks she’d just passed. The tiny ping in the center of her belly felt good. She sighed in relief as she waited for her coffee and blueberry scone order. ‘Maybe there’s hope for me after all,’ she thought.

  Angelica Mason was floored by the magnitude of the bright red, white, and blue eye-catching floral abstract designed massive cruise ship. She stumbled and almost lost her balance as she craned her neck—left, right, up and back—much like a bewildered swan who found herself in the wrong lake. She leaned on the extended handle of her travel suitcase to avoid falling, semi-hypnotized by the thought that in less than an hour, she’d board this ship. Angelica would be held captive with no possibility of escape. ‘This is insane,’ she thought. ‘How can something so beautiful feel so threatening?’

  She struggled to steady herself, now totally overwhelmed. For the first time ever, she questioned her judgment. What was she trying to prove? While her huge cat eye shaped Ray Bans blocked the bright Florida sun from her eyes, they did nothing to prevent her knees from buckling—again. Her heart pummeled.

  “Are you okay?”

  Angelica’s pounding heart screamed ‘No.’ She opted to acknowledge the soft pat on her arm with a smile.

  “Hi, lady.” Before Angelica could muster a response, the cute little girl asked her mother, “Is she scared, Mommy? I’m not scared 'cause I’m a big girl, right?”

  The child jiggled in place despite her mother’s, “Be careful, honey. Don’t bump the lady.”

  Angelica thought, ‘What made me think that this was the perfect way to find myself?’ She decided it best to ignore the child’s question since she had spoken the truth. The little girl’s exuberance, combined with an escalating buzz of excitement by the crowd of several thousand travelers, caused Angelica to truly question her sanity. Why?

  A semblance of a whisper echoed, Did it occur to you that you didn’t think? You're petrified of water. Even a hotel pool. Can’t swim a lick and never been on a boat of any size. And you choose a ship. A huge ship. An ocean liner. One of the largest in its category. What the heck did you expect?

  Angelica failed in her attempt to ignore the irritating sarcasm from her usually ever-present partner but recently missing in action, alter ego. The BLUE LADY had ostensibly abandoned her in her misery. Of all times to make her undercover presence known—By the way, it's going to take a lot more than an eight-day cruise to get you out of this slump. Stop fooling yourself.

  Angelica mumbled, “Where are my headphones?” She was admittedly nervous and hoped her favorite smooth jazz playlist would ease her jitters. Petrified is the word and feeling, darling, BLUE LADY dramatically reminded her.

  After searching her good luck, Kate Spade hobo bag, jacket pockets, and travel bag, she gave up on the headphones that were nowhere to be found.

  A now disgusted Angelica wondered, ‘And, what are you talking about? Go away. I don’t want to hear from you, BLUE LADY. And mind your business, please’. Angelica shook her head in defiance. “Ugh.”

  “Mommy, it looks like that lady is mad at me. She just shook her head at me and said, “Ugh.” The child tugged her mother’s hand and asked, “Why don’t you tell her that it’s not nice to talk to children like that?”

  Angelica was shocked by the ping she felt in the center of her chest. She thought, ‘Oooh, what was that?’

  Ping, ping. Following her instinct, Angelica sighed as she kneeled face-to-face with the little charmer. “I’m so sorry, honey. I’m not mad at you. And, you know what? You’re right. I am scared. This is my first time on a ship.”

  The child responded with a toothy grin, patted Angelica’s hand, and said with the assurance and confidence of one definitely in the know. “You’re gonna have so much fun. I always do. And you know what? You’ll make lots of new friends. I’ll be your friend. And you can eat pizza every day if you want.” She looked up at her mother, standing patiently behind her. “Can’t she, Mommy? You always let me have pizza for lunch when we cruise, right?”

  Her mother smiled and nodded at her daughter and winked at Angelica. “You’re going to be fine. I know exactly how you feel. Just remember to take your Dramamine. And make up your mind that you’re going to have a good time. There’s really so much to do, and my daughter is right; everyone is so friendly.”

  “Yep, we always make a lot of new friends. And if you get lonely, you can have breakfast with us tomorrow, right, Mommy?”

  “She sure can. By the way, I’m Brooke. I’m supposed to be meeting up with my sister, Rylee. She’s one of the photographers on the ship. Déjà Vu on the Seas. I love the name. Sounds mysterious, doesn’t it?” Obviously, just as friendly and easygoing as her daughter, Brooke added, “I’ve traveled this line before, but this is a relatively new ship—two years old, I think. So, I’m excited. I understand it has some great shows.”

  “I’m Angelica. It’s nice to meet you, Brooke. And you are?” Angelica smiled at Brooke’s daughter. “I like your dress. It’s so pretty, and so are you.”

  “Hi, Angel. My name is Annalisa, but my friends call me Lee. Since you’re going to meet us for breakfast tomorrow, you can call me Lee, if you want.”

  Ping, ping.

  “Ooops, the line is moving. Don’t forget about breakfast tomorrow, Angel.”

  Brooke winked. “And don’t forget your Dramamine. We’ll look for you in the morning.”

  Angelica dared to think that something was happening. She’d made two new friends and felt better than she had in what seemed like forever.

  Ping, ping.

  Chapter 4

  I keep remembering you… BLUE LADY cringed when she realized she'd broken her self-imposed rules. It was painful to watch Angelica hurt without intervening with her traditional whisper, nudge, tug, or even guided push of assistance, as needed. Over the last month or so—much like today—Angelica reminded her of a bumbling teenager who had forgotten her homework, wanted to go home to get it but knew she’d be late for class if she did. She didn’t have a clue, but a low-level dense fog had permanently replaced the bright sunlight normally resident in the fairytale-like world in which she once lived.

  It had begun with the unexpected post heart attack transformation of her exuberant, always active and now retired father. Marshall Mason weighed forty pounds less than his average adult weight and deceived no one with his forced smiles and assurance. “Hey, I’m good.” And ended with her being kidnapped by a handsome and seductive Prince Charming who claimed he just wanted to get to know her. And how gullible did he think she was?

  Angelica and her new world were spinning out of orbit. And BLUE LADY, who knew her better than anyone, understood that Angelica could not go forward until she acknowledged, confronted, and destroyed the demons that had made themselves quite comfortable in her new world order.

  Problem One: These demons—death, fear, and hate—were foreign to her being.

  Problem Two: Angelica Mason had always been positioned to function well in the only world she knew—one built around life, trust, and love.

  BLUE LADY could not only see clearly but also understood what Angelica refused to see. Despite her soul mate's tough, hard-as-nails exterior, she had a heart of gold—one that could be as soft as mush. Jarewski had been on point when he recommended Angelica tell Beckham, “Sorry, no way am I overseeing an undercover inner-city street team. I’m a project manager not a community organizer. Besides, that’s not the position you offered me.” JaRew had also included a few other choice words that reflected how strongly he felt about Beckham's obvious lack of concern for his mentee. Angelica was miffed about Beckham's last-minute modifications to the project but assured her sidekick that they could handle it. At the time, BLUE LADY had begged Angelica to reconsider. Angelica dismissed her sharp stomach pains as hunger pangs.

  Before Angelica and her teammates could settle into the remote B&B in upstate New York—their home away from home—they learned that two more teenagers had been ki
lled over the weekend in their target area.

  Official Day number one, Angelica had ironically met a charming, yet somber seven-year-old (and his mother) whose father had been shot and killed the week before their arrival.

  By Official Day number two, a determined Angelica had hooked up with a “round the way girl” from the Bronx. The afraid of nothing and no one, tough as nails, sensitive, caring now underground operative truly believed she was prepared to live the street life.

  Taking on the tough persona associated with living in the hood, did nothing to diminish the accuracy of homicide rates in urban communities. Bougie Ange, fit the profile. She shoved this critical data element to the back of her mind.

  By Official Day number three, Angelica experienced her first personal wager with death—returning from a much too hot night on the town that ended with bullets whizzing over her head.

  Angelica had indeed survived her New York undercover experiences, but neither JaRew, Nicole, nor BLUE LADY considered sleeping one’s life away as a form of survival.

  Chapter 5

  You’re in a different place and time… Unfortunately, her life remained unchanged except for a luxury cruise liner suite, and a panoramic balcony view of the Atlantic Ocean that had replaced her mid-town condo and its pool. She had to admit, though, that her daily breakfast of Starbucks coffee, blueberry scones, assorted fresh fruit, and a soft veggie and swiss cheese omelet made for a tastier breakfast than her jasmine herbal tea and crackers.

  She began to wonder again, had she made a mistake. She had patted herself on the back yesterday—day five—when she rose early and joined some of her fellow travelers to watch the early morning sunrise. And she surprised herself when she later searched long and hard for Brooke and Lee, finding them on the Promenade and joined them for a buffet breakfast. Glad to see her new friend, Angel, Lee grabbed her hand and insisted she follow them to the pool for a swim. Angelica and Brooke chatted in the Jacuzzi as Lee frolicked in a nearby kiddie pool with her new friends. Although Angelica declined Lee's invitation for pizza and an afternoon movie, she promised Brooke that she'd try to catch up with her and her sister, Rylee, for karaoke that evening. Later, Angelica easily justified the cancellation of those plans when she decided she didn’t have anything appropriate to wear. Besides, she'd been out and about all day. ‘I deserve to rest,’ she thought.

  And rest she did. For all of ten hours. Now day six—mid-morning, and Angelica had not yet left the ship.

  BLUE LADY, who had grown more impatient with each passing day, made her official comeback. The not so subtle squeeze in Angelica’s mid-section admonished. It’s time to poop or get off the pot, lady. And then more precisely questioned, Why are you wasting your time? You can do this. This nonsense has gone on long enough. And this is something you have to do for yourself. I can't be your crutch…not this time. That’s exactly what happened in New York…you became so dependent on me that you couldn’t think for yourself. Toughen up, girl. Don’t be scared. You. Can. Do. This.

  Angelica literally begged, “Do what?”

  The unmade bed purred her name.

  Don't go there! BLUE LADY pleaded.

  Angelica blocked her ears with her hands to tune out the ruminations and headed toward her temporary safe place, but—fortunately, or unfortunately, —made the mistake of glancing into the full-length mirror. She groaned at the dark, puffy circles under her eyes; a move closer to the mirror confirmed that mirrors don't lie. Her normal satiny caramel-colored skin tone was duller and drier than a used, brown paper bag.

  ‘Oh Lord,’ she thought. ‘How did I get so skinny?’

  Her favorite sea blue sundress loosely hung on her frail body with no evidence of the curvy hips that were a much-talked-about family trait. “Can’t do it.” She sighed and mumbled, “Marilyn would disown me if I went anywhere looking like this.” Angelica shuffled her way to the bed.

  Don’t do it. You can't do this to yourself, Angelica. BLUE LADY cajoled, What would your father think of you right now? What about Nik? And Jarewski? How are you going to explain your disappearance?

  “I don't know. I just don't know,” Angelica whispered. After thinking about it, she added, in defiance and aloud, “Hmmph, it’s my life. I don’t have to tell them a friggin’ thing.”

  Stop fooling yourself. Think. You know they stopped by the house. Your trip itinerary is outlined in the notebook you left on the bedside table. It's truth time. I dare you to be true to yourself.

  For the first time in months, Angelica laughed—hysterically—or so she thought. Perhaps she was crying; warm tears confirmed her speculation. She could hear BLUE LADY’S loud echo, Be true to yourself. I dare you.

  Fighting her instinct to sleep another day away, her mind rambled. “I’ve got some work to do.” She didn’t stop to think through the how or what. One thing she knew for sure. She wouldn’t find the answers to her problems lying in bed with her head under the covers. That hadn’t worked. Angelica thought of her father and knew he’d be so worried. Her father had not only survived but was living the life of a survivor—following his heart’s desire.

  Halleluiah, BLUE LADY screeched. She's getting there. Feeling sorry for her namesake, she decided to give Angelica an encouraging nudge. You're not weak, honey, you're downright scared. And you have a right to be. You've just been focusing on the wrong problem. Do you know all that you’ve been through?

  Ping. Ping.

  Confused but not questioning her mixed emotions, Angelica welcomed them with a soft caress of her fluttering heart and whispered, “Welcome back, BLUE LADY. I’ve missed you.”

  Angelica Marie Mason felt good; great might be a better word.

  Angelica perused the desk copy of the ship’s itinerary, checked her watch, and sighed. No way could she do much of anything with the hair. She had less than four hours for her pit stop in St. Thomas. She’d have no time for the safari taxi tour.

  She’d have to settle for a light lunch and with some luck, she’d have time to take a few selfies with the unfathomable turquoise ocean as her backdrop. It was now 11:00 a.m. She gave herself forty-five minutes to shower, dress, and retwist her hair. She’d wrap it with one of the bright, colorful tropical scarves she’d packed. She mumbled, “Poo, I’ll figure it out.”

  Chapter 6

  Filling Time… “Passport, please; good afternoon. Please remove your sunglasses. May I have your boarding pass?” The ship security attendant nodded, scanned her card, and smiled at the image that appeared before him on his scanner. “Yes, that’s you.” He chuckled, “Angelica M. Mason, it is. Enjoy your day.”

  Angelica smiled in return. “You too.”

  ‘Guess I must not look too bad,’ she thought.

  Angelica continued her walk down the pier and slowed her pace. The perspiration on her neck reminded her of the tropical temps. She was glad she had liberally applied sunscreen and rewrapped her hair, keeping it up off her neck and shoulders.

  “Wow. This is so beautiful. Surreal.” She spoke aloud and quickly glanced around to see if anyone had heard her talking to herself. Deciding it was too late to worry if anyone had, she mumbled, “I could kick myself for wasting my morning.” She envied the sunbathers who lounged quite comfortably on the gorgeous crescent shaped beach directly across from the pier.

  Angelica sighed again and followed the sounds of Bob Marley’s 'I wanna love ya and treat ya right,' which led her to the Join Us for Happy Hour cafe. The posted Caribbean menu was just what she needed to enhance her spirit. If that didn't work, she smiled, a refreshing rum punch cocktail would definitely do the trick.

  Lucky to find the last remaining table with an overhead umbrella, Angelica relaxed enjoying the unique rhythms of the local band's reggae beat. Her server had recommended the Cuban lime chicken and pumpkin rice luncheon special, which had not only been filling but was quite tasty. Unable to recall the last time she'd indulged her sweet tooth, Angelica treated herself to a slice of tangy key lime pie. Happy and quite satisf
ied, she promised herself one more cocktail before heading to the array of duty-free shops. She giggled as she thought of surprising Lee and Brooke with something special. Her two new friends had been quite a blessing.

  “Excuse me. Angelica, is that you?”

  Surprised to hear her name, Angelica peered up and over her sunglasses at the mysterious, good looking, well-dressed stranger.

  “It’s me, Angelica.” The man's taunting but insistent tone suggested their paths must have indeed crossed--somewhere, somehow. Cavalierly removing his dark glasses, he soberly tapped his chest. “It's me, Angelica. Don't you remember me?”

  A still quite confused Angelica shook her head and closed her eyes assuming that she'd open them to discover that she was dreaming. She opened them, blinked a few times, only to find the attractive but now somewhat familiar looking man still standing—just as straight, tall and unyielding.

  This time she removed her sunglasses, squinted, and reopened her eyes. Wide. Her stomach cramped. She took a deep breath and whispered, “BLUE LADY, where are you? I need you.”

  “Speak my name, baby.”

  Angelica stiffened. A voice from her past? Or was she imagining it? 'Do I really know this guy?'

  “Don't you recognize me?”

  Angelica panicked. ‘Am I dreaming, BLUE LADY? Please help me. I can’t do this. I really can’t…’ Tears formed in her eyes.

  Yes, you can. You can do this, Angelica. Trust me. You have to do this. You’re a survivor. Trust yourself. Trust him.

  As if the handsome stranger could hear BLUE LADY himself, he whispered. “Yes, you can trust me, Angelica. Take my hand. I never meant to hurt you.”

  As he reached down to offer his hand, he claimed a seat next to her as though staking his territory. His knee touched hers triggering the memories she had buried but which now threatened to resurface.