“Shhh!” Olivia said. “I loved Aunt Bee. She’s probably in shock, bless her heart.”
“That’s a southern expression used exclusively by belles, you know.”
“Oh,” Olivia said. “Well, excuuuuuse me!” And she laughed, so happy that Nick wasn’t provoked with her any longer.
What would’ve been the point of staying angry? If he wanted transparency in their marriage, she would give it to him. They were in the hole together and would get out of the hole together. And after a lot of thought, she had to say she would not have liked it if he had withheld a truth of that magnitude from her.
After they were airborne, Maritza began passing a tray and Betty helped her. Olivia thought, Well, that’s nice. Maritza had arranged for platters of sandwiches, baguettes, and individual chef salads to be brought on board for all of them to share. Michelle brought some bottles of wine. In honor of the bride and groom, a nice bottle of champagne—Veuve Clicquot, of course—was opened and consumed along with small tributes for their happy life together. As comfortable as it was on Bob’s jet, when all twelve seats were filled, it wasn’t so easy to navigate the aisle and it didn’t feel as spacious. The tight quarters made for some ironic first-world rich-people remarks. When is the last time you played Twister while you were drinking champagne at forty-one thousand feet? Excuse me, I’m just trying to reach the beluga! Eventually they had eaten enough, drunk enough, and twisted around one another enough and everyone finally wanted a nap, even Gladdie, who was the first to succumb on Bob’s lap.
It was another remarkable landing, this time in Palma on Majorca, coming in almost silently, and they could barely feel the wheels touch down. It was very early in the morning. This time they had to go through actual customs in the TAG terminal, which was basically two men in military-looking uniforms who glanced at their passports as they walked through a metal detector single file. Betty and Ernest’s passports were brand-new, leading Olivia to suspect they had never been out of the country. She was developing a soft spot for them.
All of their luggage was brought around to a waiting van and loaded while they climbed onto a small bus. The minibus would take them to the port, where they would be met by the launch that would take them to Le Bateau de l’Amour. All these transfers were completed in the time it usually took most people to drive to the nearest Starbucks. Everything Bob did went off without a hiccup, like a well-oiled machine.
When Betty and Uncle Ernest saw Le Bateau de l’Amour floating in the harbor and realized that was where they were headed, they actually gasped.
Maritza heard them and saw their shock and said, “It looks big from here, but once you’re on board it starts to shrink.”
Nick laughed and said, “That’s exactly what Olivia tells me about our new house!”
“Because it’s true,” Olivia said.
“Can you believe those awful people decided not to sell us their house on Nantucket? I’m still so mad!” Maritza said, ignoring the fact then that Betty and Ernest were practically catatonic.
Bob turned to face Olivia to hear her response.
“It came as a surprise to me too,” Olivia said.
Bob paused and then said, “And I imagine you had cleared the decks to take this on. Am I right, Olivia?”
“Yes, but it’s not a problem,” Olivia said.
It was really hard for Olivia not to show any emotion and she tried to appear unruffled. Yet she knew her disappointment was plain to see, even from behind her sunglasses.
Bob reached over and patted the back of her hand. Olivia took the gesture to mean something like Hang in there, which was nice but wouldn’t pay the mortgage. She swallowed hard. Her reality was so far removed from Bob’s reality that she was certain he had no idea how much trouble she was in, but she would never let him hear it from her lips. She still had her pride, and she still believed that you never let anyone see you sweat.
Somewhat sleep deprived, the group motored out to the enormous yacht in a state of respectful awe, saving their energy for what might happen next. Pretty much the same thoughts were rolling around in all their minds, and if they could’ve issued a collective opinion of the moment in one word, they would’ve said, “Cool.”
Getting off the launch posed a challenge as the water was extremely choppy and it was windy. But there were a half-dozen or so of Bob’s crew waiting, so as the boat bobbed down, Olivia prepared herself. As the boat bobbed up, the two men took her by her upper arms and swung her onto Bob’s yacht, which was as steady as though it rested in dry dock. Bob, needing no help, simply stepped off the launch, as did Maritza, Ellen, and Gladdie.
“Let’s go watch Cinderella! I wanna watch Cinderella! Come on, Ellen!”
Ellen was immediately whisked away to the viewing room belowdecks that had thousands of movies on demand.
“I’ll see you later!” Ellen called over her shoulder to Bob.
“You guys are just a pack of old sea dogs!” Sam said, wobbling as he tried to balance himself on the deck.
Buddy grabbed his arm to help him. “Whoa there, pal! Hang on!”
“I’ve got this,” Dorothy said, her wide-legged gauze pants whipping all around her like Old Glory on a flagpole.
“Thanks!” said Michelle. She stepped off the ladder and Buddy held her arm firmly.
Betty was next. “Oh, my goodness!” she said, laughing and smoothing her sensible dress, as she found her footing in her sensible shoes. “They should see this back in Omaha! Who’d believe it? Come on, Ernest! You can do it!”
Ernest was hanging back, the last one to leave the launch. He seemed very uncertain as to how he would get off the smaller boat gracefully and maintain his dignity. He was a long drink of water, weighing in at under a hundred and fifty pounds, all angles and knobs. In addition, Uncle Ernest looked green around the gills.
“Hold this, young man! Thank you!”
One of the crew took Ernest’s well-worn Bible and two of the sturdiest-looking male crew members stepped forward and hopped on the boat to lift him up onto the deck of Bob’s yacht. Ernest continued to hang on to the ladder with clenched fists.
“Betty? Remember when I told you I was a landlubber? I wasn’t kidding!”
“Come on, Uncle Ern! You’ve made it this far!” Kitty said. “I can’t get married without you!”
“Just close your eyes and let go of the ladder, Reverend!” Bob said. “Come on, now . . .”
“One, two, three! Oh, God save me!”
The reverend was lifted into the air by the crew on the bobbing launch, handed right into the arms of two others, and placed squarely on his feet. He opened his eyes.
“Praise God!” he said and began to laugh.
Everyone laughed with him, even Dorothy and Michelle.
They ascended the long, wide stairwell, and at the top was a scene from a modern-day nautical episode of Upstairs Downstairs. The majority of the crew was assembled to welcome them. Two female shipmates offered them rolled wet towels from a silver platter garnished with an orchid to wipe the salt spray from their hands, and two others offered small glasses of a mixed fruit drink.
“Welcome aboard!” they said and, “Welcome back!”
“Is there any alcohol in this?” Betty asked.
“No, ma’am, just ginger ale and guava juice.”
Betty nodded her head and said, “Guava juice? My word! This is a beautiful boat, Bob! Don’t you think so, Ernest?”
“Thank you,” Bob said. “Whenever you’re ready, we’d be happy to give you a tour, if you’d like.”
“This is like something right out of a Hollywood movie!” Ernest said, draining his glass. “I believe I’ll have another, if you have it to spare.”
“Ernest?” Maritza said. “Welcome to the land of plenty! We’ve got all the guava you want!”
“Isn’t that something?” Ernest said.
“My word!” Betty said again and shook her head in disbelief.
The deck on which they stood had a large
round teak dining table bolted to the floor.
“Watch this, Ernest! You’ll love it,” Bob said. “Hand me the remote, Sam.”
Sam removed a remote control wand from a drawer in the buffet and handed it to Bob.
“Okay, everyone stand back a bit,” Bob said. “I love doing this!”
Bob pressed a button and the top of the table lifted up, separated into wedges like the slices of a pie, and turned to the left; other wedges were raised from beneath them and turned to fit into the gaps like puzzle pieces; and then it was all lowered into place. It went from being a table for six or eight to a table that could easily seat twelve or fourteen people. The new leaves were of a different color, stained to resemble burled walnut and mahogany, and when they were settled into place, they created a radiant star in the center of the table.
“Well, how do you like that?” Ernest said. “I am amazed! Where in the world did you find something like this?”
“Ask her,” Bob said and pointed to Olivia. “Olivia is the official decorator of my personal life.”
Olivia was remembering going to David Fletcher’s studio and talking about the origins of this kind of table from the nineteenth century and a furniture designer named Robert Jupe.
“Oh! Well, uh, this is a capstan table, custom designed for this boat and made by a designer in northern England. Kendal is the town. David Fletcher is the name of the furniture maker. Anyway, I’ve been following his work for years and I think he’s just brilliant.”
“You don’t worry about leaving it out here in the elements?” Ernest said.
“Well, that’s a really good question. We gave it a UV resistant finish and it’s constructed of teak, custom painted to look like walnut and mahogany. It’s been in place for ten years, and I think it still looks great.”
“I’ve never seen anything like that in my whole life!” Betty said.
“Take me now, Lord! I’ve seen it all!” Ernest said. “Say, Bob? I’ll bet that set you back a pretty penny.”
“I knew I liked you, Ernest! A man of the cloth who recognizes the beauty of pennies!”
Ernest chuckled and Bob continued.
“Yeah,” Bob said, “we had this guy Fletcher on the boat for a week while he put it together. Nice guy.”
“This is really something else!” Betty said.
“Come on,” Bob said. “Let’s get you to your stateroom.”
“Stateroom? Oh my!” Betty’s eyes were as big as saucers.
Maritza said, “Yep, you’re bunking with Kitty and Ernest is in with Daniel. We can’t have any moofky-poofky until these two tie the knot!”
“You’re a fine woman, Mrs. Vasile,” Ernest said.
“Tell that to him,” she said and hooked her thumb in Bob’s direction.
Chapter 12
I Do! I Don’t!
Their first night passed quietly. It was true that everyone was somewhat fatigued from the trip, but it was quiet because half of the passengers had almost no interest in Betty or Ernest. In fact, when Olivia thought about it, it seemed odd that Bob didn’t fill the staterooms with Kitty’s and Daniel’s friends instead of his own. As a result, there was no traditional bachelor party. No hoopla at all. There was only Bob at the helm of the dinner table telling stories about himself and the few things that he could remember about Daniel’s childhood to try and entertain Kitty’s family.
“I was working and traveling a lot during those years,” Bob offered as an excuse.
Betty, on the other hand, regaled them with nearly every moment of Kitty’s formative years. “She could twirl a fire baton like nobody’s business!”
“I’d be afraid to catch my hair!” Maritza said.
“So would I!” Olivia said. “You’re very brave, Kitty.”
Kitty grinned and shook her head. “Mom? People don’t want to know all this stupid stuff.”
“Yes, we do!” Maritza said. “I couldn’t twirl a baton to save my soul, much less one on fire!”
Betty laughed and continued. “I know now that I’m here that this might seem like a silly thing, but I brought you two jars of strawberry rhubarb preserves.” Betty said. “I put up ten gallons in quart jars every summer and I just thought you might enjoy them. They’re in my cabin.”
“Stateroom,” Dorothy said, correcting her, adding. “Rhubarb. How quaint.” She reached for the bottle of wine and filled her glass to the brim, even though dinner had been cleared from the table. Betty’s affectionate manner toward Maritza irritated the hell out of her.
“Stateroom! It just sounds so grand,” Betty said.
“Well, that’s ’cause it is grand,” Dorothy said. “Where’s Toto? Hello! We’re not in Mississippi anymore.” She alone laughed at her joke.
“We’re actually from Nebraska,” Ernest said.
She’s looped, Olivia thought, and looked at Nick, who smirked in agreement. He reached out and took Olivia’s hand in his, kissing the back of it.
Betty did her best to ignore Dorothy, who was obviously swimming the River Vino. “Anyway, Maritza, tell me about your folks. Are they still in Mississippi? I had a cousin there. I haven’t spoken to her in years.”
“Well, my momma is in Cartaret, which is out of the way, but it’s so pretty. She’s a very serious gardener, and you should see her yard when all the azaleas are in bloom. It’s just gorgeous.”
“Is that where ya learned ’bout tha birds an’ tha bees, Marizza?” Dorothy said, slurring her words enough to cause Buddy and Michelle and Olivia and Nick to lean in and finally stare at her.
Dorothy just cackled, as though she was Amy Schumer and Tina Fey rolled into one. Sam ignored her. Kitty and Daniel snickered. Dorothy drained her goblet just as the waitstaff was putting down dessert, cherries jubilee flambé.
Olivia thought, Uh-oh, somewhere in between Necker Island and tonight Dorothy developed an unquenchable thirst.
“Oh! How beautiful!” Maritza said.
“I thought we needed something celebratory in honor of the wedding,” Bob said.
Olivia said to herself, That’s some bull. He has it every chance he can. She looked at Nick, who smiled in agreement.
“Looks great!” Kitty said. “I’ll make this for you, Daniel.”
“Sweet,” Daniel said.
Dorothy looked at her plate, frowned, and said, “Do you thin’ I mi’ have another glass of wine? I’m so bored I cou’ scream.”
“Have whatever you want,” Sam said.
“Then I think I’ll have a lil’ nap.” Dorothy pushed her cherries jubilee to the center of the table, folded her arms on the table, put her head down on her arms, and passed out cold.
Sam ignored her, still talking to Buddy about whatever their sidebar discussion was about—golf, Olivia guessed—and seemed to have no intention of removing her from the scene. There had to be some trouble in their paradise, Olivia surmised.
As soon as she could, Michelle sneaked away, saying that she was very tired. Ellen was the next to fold on the excuse of getting Gladdie to sleep.
Maritza hated herself—but not really—for enjoying seeing Dorothy make a complete fool of herself. Olivia and Nick hated to admit it, but later on admit it they did in pillow-talk whispers. In fact, they snorted with stifled laughter.
But dinner was not over quite yet. The rest of them sat around the expanded marvel of the remote-controlled dining table, trying to pretend there wasn’t an unconscious woman in their midst.
Olivia looked at Kitty. She had pale skin and short-cropped black hair. She could be quite pretty with some cosmetics. Maybe. And her tattoos were worrisome, because what if she decided to change careers and she was stuck with small appliances and cupcakes? And worst of all, how would they look at seventy? The poor child. She’s actually sweet and shy.
“Tell us about your cake, Kitty,” Olivia said, trying to let Kitty take the lead. “I understand that you baked it yourself and that you’re putting it together tomorrow?”
“Kitty started baking wh
en she was just a little bitty thing,” Betty said, as though Kitty had severe laryngitis.
“Mom! I can answer for myself!”
“Made my birthday cake when she was just ten years old!” Ernest said.
“Arg. Never mind.”
“That’s so sweet!” Maritza said. “So tell us, Kitty!”
After expelling a portion of foul humors with a guttural sigh, she said, “Okay. Two layers are hazelnut because it’s my favorite; two are German chocolate because that’s Daniel’s favorite; and the icing is classic vanilla-bean buttercream with marzipan flowers. The surprise is all in the decoration. It’s not going to be like a cake with some stupid bride and groom on the top.”
“Kitty was on Cake Wars,” Daniel said. “She won ten thousand dollars.”
Olivia had the uncharitable thought that Kitty’s winnings were roughly ten thousand times more than what Daniel had ever earned in his entire life.
“That’s my baby!” Betty said. “I have it all on a DVD.”
“What’s Cake Wars?” Bob asked.
“Oh, honey!” Maritza said. “Food Network! I love that show! What did you bake?”
But on considering the real world of the ninety-nine percent and the world of his son’s in-laws, Bob said, “Actually, that’s a lot of money for a cake.”
“Well, I can’t wait to taste your wedding cake,” Nick said. “I love all cake.”
“For Cake Wars I made a cake that had an aquarium theme. There was a giant shark coming out of the top of it, teeth and all. He had a bloody fish dangling from one of his teeth. And baby orcas swimming around the bottom devouring other fish that devoured smaller ones. It had a kind of food-chain border.”
“That sounds really scary!” Maritza said.
“You’re scared of a cake? Really? God, that’s so lame,” Daniel said.
Maritza turned red, but because of the hour few could tell.
“I know you’re getting married tomorrow, son,” Bob said, “but don’t be snide to Maritza.”
“He’s just nervous,” Betty said. “Aren’t you, son?”
“No. Not really,” Daniel said and looked at Kitty. The bride and groom rolled their eyes.
All Summer Long Page 22