Smooth Sailing (3 page)

*

She’d filled out a few questionnaires about the cruise while waiting to board, and she’d made sure to request a single table. To her dismay, she was shown to a table with nine other travelers. “I requested to sit alone,” she whispered to the captain.

“Yes, miss,” he said in his soft Croatian accent. “But my supervisor informed me you should be seated with other guests who do not have children.”

Not willing to make a scene, she gave him a tight smile and acquiesced. She sat down and met everyone: a young couple from LA who also worked for The Bear, as the cognoscenti called it; a group of three sisters from Toledo who loved all things Bear related and couldn’t understand why there weren’t more people without kids on the cruise; and four men who didn’t explicitly announce they were gay but could have been picked out as Friends of Dorothy by the most oblivious passerby.

Everyone at the table was nice enough, and they all desperately wanted to converse, but it was very tough to make a contribution. Small talk was named that for a reason. People seemed to need it, but why? Who really cared where these strangers were from? Were they going to be friends after this trip? No. The last thing she needed was another person in her life that she’d be forced to ignore. She didn’t even have time to call her mother! But maybe one of them had internet access and she could… No, somehow Fernando would find out and next he’d send her to a monastery.

Every person said something about him or herself, and when it came to her turn, she said, “I’m Laurie, and I’m trying to get my life back together after a”—she fixed each person with a cold stare—“a bunch of people messed me up. In the— Where I was for a while— They told me it’s good to talk about what happened.” She let her eyes dart from one set of startled eyes to another. “But talking isn’t gonna change the past.” She folded her hands neatly on the white tablecloth and mumbled, “Next.” After a few minutes the rest of her tablemates found safe subjects to banter about, but for some reason, they studiously avoided her.

THE NEXT EVENING, the phone in her room rang right before dinner. “Hello, Laurie,” Fernando said.

“What’s wrong? Her heart raced, sure something catastrophic had occurred.

“I had to waste ten valuable minutes trying to smooth some ruffled feathers in Miami today.”

“Miami?”

“Yeah. At the cruise-line offices. Guess why they’re angry.”

She didn’t reply, knowing he liked to play cat and mouse.

“That’s right, my friend. Some people don’t like an outsider wasting their time, telling them how to improve their product.”

“I’m not an outsider. I’m part of the Luxor team!”

“You don’t know the first thing about the cruise line.”

“I know plenty about F and B and hotel management. I was just trying to share some of my thoughts.”

“I’m sure you were. But the theme parks are a different animal. We do things our way and they do things theirs. Those people are busy, and they don’t have time to talk to an outsider. Besides, you’re on vacation. No more work.”

“Fine,” she said, chastened.

“And don’t even think about going to the buffet for your meals. I’m getting a report on your attendance in the dining room.”

“Fernando, I’m here. Isn’t that enough?”

“No. I want you to learn how to be a civilized adult. Learn how to talk about more than business. Play bingo; go to the bar; read a book. Just do something other than harass the staff.”

“I wasn’t harassing them,” she grumbled. “It was that F and B manager, wasn’t it? She was a bitch.”

“It’s her food and her beverages. Stay out of it. Now, go have fun.”

Fun is work, work is fun.
She thought it, but had the prudence not to say it.

*

At dinner, everyone dutifully asked her if she’d enjoyed her day in San Juan. When she said she hadn’t gotten off the boat, no one asked a follow-up question, and she was left to eat her dinner. She intentionally stopped by the head waiter’s area on the way out to ensure her attendance was noted.

*

Up before dawn the next day, she tried to trick herself into falling asleep again, but it was a waste of time She decided to go to the library to find something to read. She hadn’t read fiction since college, and wasn’t very fond of it then, but she figured as she had nothing else to do, she might as well give it a try.

Even though she was looking for a novel, the business section called to her. Regrettably, the management books were written for a general audience and gave elementary advice. Instead, she picked up the first mystery her hand landed on. After a quick breakfast, she went out to the pool deck to read.

She’d barely passed page ten when her head dropped to the right and she fell asleep, remaining in that exact pose until three. Despite a crick in her neck from her slumped position, she had to admit she felt a little more energetic after the longest stretch of sleep she’d had in weeks.

*

Laurie hadn’t gotten to her position in the company by failing to follow orders. She decided to stop fighting, to listen to Fernando, and to try to relax. But how do you learn to relax when you’ve spent your entire adult life trying not to? It took a massive dedication to ignore her needs for the good of the project, but now that the project was off limits, her body started to speak, and she was forced to listen. Every part of her ached, and she slowly realized she wasn’t sick at all, she was exhausted. Even “exhausted” was too weak a word for it, but she didn’t have a better one. If Osaka was off limits, then getting herself ready for the final push would be the new goal.

She attacked the goal with her usual élan. She needed to fuel her body with sleep, and sleep she did. She slept at sea, she slept at port, she slept during the napkin-folding classes and the dance instructions. She slept on the deck at the adults-only pool for so many hours, she was surprised someone didn’t call the ship’s doctor. But after a solid week of nothing but eating and sleeping, she woke up early one morning, ready to begin her vacation.

At work, she was most concerned with looking professional. That had become the only thing she cared about, but she decided it was time to pamper her body, to get it ready to dive back into the shark’s tank. Having made an appointment in the spa, she treated herself to a facial and a soothing massage, something she never took time to do. That night she dressed more carefully, spent a few more minutes fixing her hair, and put on some makeup. By the time she got to the dining room at least four men had noticed her, and the table captain so obviously checked her out it was funny. That felt surprisingly good. Rare, but good.

*

There were plenty of things to do after dinner, but sitting out by the pool, watching the moonlight glisten on the water was her favorite. It was warm and breezy, and the wind in her hair felt sensual, almost erotic. It had been so very long since anyone had caressed her that she’d almost forgotten what a gentle touch on her neck felt like.

With relatively nothing on her mind, she let her thoughts drift to her body and the dearth of touch it had experienced. She concentrated hard and tried to feel her erogenous zones. Her nipples stiffened against her bra and she rhythmically squeezed her vulva a few times. Everything was still there, but it had all fallen into a coma.

Actually, that was a little disingenuous. There wasn’t a huge difference between now and any other time in her life. Sex had never been a driving force, and there was little reason to think that would change. Living with a man had been very satisfying, and being a couple made life easier on many, many levels. But the sex had been an add-on that didn’t make or break the relationship.

It was uncomfortable to think about how often she’d lied to cover up her lack of interest, but the truth was that she had sex primarily to please men. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy it. It was really nice sometimes, and pretty nice fairly often. But her boyfriends always, always wanted it much more than she did. Her adult sex life had consisted mostly of boyfriends pressing for sex and her whittling down their needs. If they wanted it every day she tried to get it down to every other day. If that worked, then she’d try for every third. There had always been an unspoken negotiation going on, and she was both a party and the arbitrator. It really wasn’t fair, but great sex was more likely when it was less frequent—at least for her. She was certain none of her past boyfriends had shared that idea.

Her sister the sex fiend had busted her many times, prying, in Laurie’s opinion, about her lack of enthusiasm. Their mom had even joined in, asking if she might be a lesbian. But that wasn’t it. That would have been apparent by now. The simple fact was that her drive just wasn’t strong. Maybe it was hormonal, or biochemical, or just the way she was made. But even though she was feeling more sexual than she’d felt in a very long time, she knew she would go back to her cabin alone and go right to sleep.

*

Early the next morning, when the ship pulled into St. Maarten, Laurie got up and peered through her window to see a lovely tropical island surrounded by water a shade of turquoise she didn’t know was possible. Energized, she put on a pair of shorts, a nice blouse, and an attractive pair of sandals, and spent some extra time fixing her hair. She looked good. Darned good. It was her vacation and she was going to find someone to at least buy her a drink. Teddy Bear ruled her world, but she couldn’t anthropomorphize him into a decent date, and it had been too long since she’d had one. Luckily, she’d have to leave said date at four o’clock, and wouldn’t have to have more than sparkling conversation—if she remembered how to do that.

It was just eight when she disembarked, and the day was bright and clear, with a salty-fresh scent in the air. Even though it was early, all of the shops were open in the tiny mall next to the cruise-passenger terminal in Philipsburg. They were quite upscale and she found a store that sold the small crystal animals that her mom liked. With Christmas coming, she was tempted, but she hated to buy anything without comparison shopping. That need led her to an Internet Café where she did the research, then read her personal mail. She couldn’t get into her work e-mail thanks to Fernando the Evil, and no one was at the office in LA or Osaka at this hour, so she decided to go for a brisk walk like the ones her doctor had been recommending ever since she’d started having heart palpitations a year ago.

Laurie headed for the waterline to check out the short piers full of sailboats. Growing up in Cincinnati, she’d been on her share of houseboats and small speedboats, but had no experience with sailboats. For some reason they fascinated her, and she tried to compare one with the next as she walked along.

One boat she happened upon was decidedly different from its neighbors.
The Flying Dutchwoman
looked like two big, enclosed kayaks held together by a wide cabin of some sort. It resembled a spider or some other bug. Or maybe something from a sci-fi show. Its other attribute was a woman lying on a large piece of material stretched out between the front of the two kayak-like pods. At first Laurie assumed it was a regular owner taking a nap on a lovely day, but there was a sign hung on the side advertising “full day / half day / overnights” with a phone number and a website address. A boat for hire? What kind of crazy business practice was it to have an employee sleeping on the job? Or maybe she was the boss. Either way, the person was lazy and showed a complete lack of salesmanship. No one wanted to wake the staff to ask about going on a sail. She couldn’t stop herself from saying, “This looks more like
The Sleeping Dutchwoman
.”

The woman tilted her cap to expose her eyes, then raised a hand to shield them from the sun. Expressionless, she said, “Did you wake me for a reason?”

Laurie spent just a moment figuring out her archetype. If she was the owner, she was far from serious about her business, and you’d have to be very serious to earn enough to buy such a big craft. She was probably one of those women who dabbled at things. Pretty, bright, and talented, with lots of family money. There were hundreds of women like her in LA. Laurie’d met a ton of them when she went to Hollywood parties with Colin, her last boyfriend. This particular indolent woman was probably between advanced degrees, or maybe her father was trying to teach her a lesson by making her work for a while…after giving her a huge boat.

“I was just wondering why everyone else is over at the passenger terminal trying to drum up business. Does your way work better?”

The woman lowered the bill on her white baseball cap and let her head rest on her hands, which she’d linked behind her head, providing a low pillow. “I’m not looking for business.”

“Your sign says you are. This is your boat, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is. Are you from the government? I have a license and I pay my taxes.” She lifted her hat just an inch and said, “Or do you want to go for a sail?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to put you out…”

The woman dropped her hat again, completely covering her eyes. “Okay. Bye bye.”

It was all she could do to not jump onto the boat, take that hat off her, and slap her with it. “Are you serious? How do you make a living with that kind of work ethic?”

“By sailing. I asked if you wanted to go.”

“You certainly don’t seem very enthusiastic about it.”