Time of My Life (Oceanic Dreams #2)

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Time of My Life (Oceanic Dreams #2) Page 3

by Laura Heffernan


  “It’s…cozy,” he said. “Which bed?”

  I pointed at the lower bunk. He laid Penny down so gently, it made me think a little better of him. Of course, he was a doctor so it made sense that he’d treat people with care. It wasn’t his fault he’d been born rich any more than it was my fault I wasn’t.

  “Thanks.” Penny stood, then swayed, grabbing onto the bedpost for support. “I need to get cleaned up.”

  “Are you okay?” Frank asked.

  “Fine.” A full-body heave sold her out. She bolted for the bathroom, one hand over her mouth. The retching sounds carried clearly to our ears.

  “Morning sickness?”

  I nodded. “Apparently, it lasts all day.”

  He made a sympathetic noise. “That happens with some women. Why doesn’t she go to the infirmary?”

  “Like I said, pregnant dancers can’t dance,” I said. “Especially ones who spend several hours a day throwing up.”

  “Ahhh,” he said. “She’s got hyperemesis gravidarum?”

  “Huh?”

  “Violent nausea, all the time. Lots of throwing up. Sometimes requires hospitalization. The Duchess of Cambridge had it with all three children.”

  “Who?”

  “Some people call her Princess Kate. William’s wife.” I stared at him until he said, “Diana and Charles’s eldest son? Second in line for the throne of England.”

  The idea that he thought I had any idea of the Royal Family’s medical issues told me volumes about our differences. Ten seconds ago, I couldn’t have told you how many kids Kate and William had. I shrugged. “I’m no doctor, but maybe. She’s sick all the time. It’s awful.”

  “There’s not a lot she can do, but staying hydrated and being monitored by a doctor will do wonders. She might need to take time off until it passes.”

  The casual way he suggested not working brought my hackles up. “Easy, right? Of course, if she doesn’t work, she doesn’t get paid, so there’s no money. She’s not allowed on the ship unless she’s working, so she won’t have a place to live or money to get one. She can only visit the infirmary while onboard. Oh, and the cruise line doesn’t provide health insurance, so good luck paying for a doctor anywhere else.”

  His features softened as I spoke. “I get it. Your friend is in a bad situation.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Well, for now, I’m going to go in there, smooth her hair back, and hold her hand until she feels well enough to go to bed,” I said. “I’ve been covering for her as much as I can. Swapping shifts and making deals with the other performers to get her into things like bingo or trivia night, where she can sit and smile and not have to move much.”

  “Janey is doing way too much,” Penny said from the bathroom doorway. Until she spoke, I hadn’t realized she listened to us. “I tried to get pills while we were in Miami, but the doctor said I’d have to pay for them.”

  “That’s great!” Frank said.

  “Not great,” she said. “It’s nine hundred dollars for a three-week supply.”

  My mouth fell open. I’d known that she’d requested pills, but not the exorbitant cost. No way we could afford something like that, especially not when she might need them for nine months for all we knew.

  “I don’t suppose you’d accept a loan,” Frank said.

  “From you? Of course not. I can’t pay you back. And it’s too late now, anyway. Thanks for your help tonight.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said. “Do you need anything else?”

  “Not unless you know a way I can dance in the Talent Show on Friday,” Penny said. “I’d hoped everything would work out, but without those pills, there’s no way I’ll make it. Janey and I will both lose our bonus if we don’t perform. It’s a doubles routine. She can’t do it alone.”

  “Penny!” The last thing we needed was Nellie’s little boyfriend even more in our business.

  “A doubles routine, huh?” Frank asked.

  “Yeah. We’re demonstrating pole moves. If it goes well, they’ll book us to do the same routine on other cruises, and the bonuses are awesome. But I’ve been too sick to practice,” Penny said. “The rocking of the ship makes it worse.”

  “She can’t do the routine alone?” Frank asked.

  “I could,” I said, “but then it’s not a doubles routine. It’s not nearly as impressive as what Max wants. That means no bonus. They’ll find someone else to close out the Talent Show going forward. And I can’t afford to lose the money.” He didn’t need to know how Dad depended on me. My sister had no extra money to help, not as a single mom.

  “Can’t somebody else fill in?”

  “Who?” I gestured around the room in a wide, sweeping motion. As wide as one could get in a space the size of a closet occupied by three people, at least. “You’ve got a surplus of pole dancers hiding on the ship? It’s not exactly as common as ballet.”

  His face flushed. “I realize that, but you’ve got a huge team of entertainers here.”

  “Show dancers. Broadway-types. If I needed someone to do tap or hip-hop, most of them could dive into the show in a heartbeat. But I’ve just started teaching pole this season, and the entertainers don’t get time off work to attend classes. We’ve all got our own stuff,” I said. “One of the other dancers is strong, and she could probably do the moves, but she doesn’t have time to learn the routine.”

  “Not to mention,” Penny said, “that most of them would jump at the opportunity to steal the finale and make it their own. They’d want the bonus for themselves, both this week and every cruise from now on.”

  “You’re not going to be able to dance much over the next few months,” Frank said.

  “If we can find a way to do Friday night’s show, we’ll figure something out,” Penny said. “We’re off for two weeks before we report to the Alaska cruise at the beginning of May. Morning sickness is only supposed to last the first trimester, right? I’m getting close.”

  “Give it up, Pen,” I said hollowly. The more we talked about this, the bigger the pit in my stomach grew. “It’s not going to happen.”

  Frank said, “Come on, there’s got to be someone–”

  “What? You want to do it?” I laughed hollowly. As if.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know the first thing about pole.”

  “Now there’s an idea,” Penny said.

  “It’s an idea, alright. A terrible one.” I couldn’t believe my friend thought I should spend more time with Nellie’s boyfriend.

  “He’s got the right build.” She walked around Frank, eyeing him up and down like a prized racehorse. At least she didn’t lift his lips to check out his gums and teeth. “And he’s got the background. You said you used to dance?”

  “Ballet, yeah.”

  “It’s not that different,” she said.

  My lips twitched with amusement. Not that different? “Go on.”

  “Both require a lot of strength. Flexibility. Grace. You’ve seen it yourself. When someone comes to a class with a ballet or dance background, they pick pole up no problem.”

  “That’s true,” I admitted begrudgingly. “They still need more than a week to learn the more advanced moves.”

  “So we make a few changes, take out the super difficult stuff. You’re an awesome teacher, Janey, and you know it.”

  I turned to Frank. “This is one problem you can’t throw money at. You said you wanted to help. Is that true?”

  “Yeah, I want to help. And I do miss performing. You think I can do it?”

  “Let’s find out,” I said.

  “Take off your shoes,” Penny told him. “You’re about to get a crash course.”

  They both looked at me. Part of me wanted to walk away. But Frank had the right background. I’d already noted how gracefully he moved. More importantly, he was our only option. If we didn’t do the performance, we’d lose money I sorely needed. Max would dump us ashore in a heartbeat.


  I could manage. After all, I’d always been poor. I could get by, skip a few meals, sleep in some parks until I found a new job. Not the end of the world. But Penny had grown up comfortably, the daughter of two Cuban refugees who ran a very successful restaurant. Upper middle class, which was rich to me. She didn’t know what it was like to go to bed hungry or to walk around in the dark all winter because you couldn’t afford lights. Her parents cut her off when she told them she wanted to be a dancer instead of taking over the family business.

  Even if I could screw Penny over, I certainly couldn’t do that to her unborn child. The baby deserved better. He or she might grow up without a father thanks to Robbie’s unwillingness to help, but Aunt Janey would fight tooth and nail to get that baby whatever he or she needed.

  One look at Penny sealed my fate. She worried her lower lip between her teeth, eyebrows drawn together. I knew all the same thoughts swirled around in both our heads. The only difference was, I had the power to give her peace of mind.

  I turned to Frank and held out my hand. “Let’s do this.”

  Chapter Four

  Day Two: At Sea

  On the first full day of the cruise, I taught back-to-back pole classes starting early in the morning. Finding it a bit awkward to walk down the deck wearing five-inch heels, a feather boa, a tiara, and my underwear, I preferred to leave early and change at the studio. This particular morning, however, I forgot that some rock star was filming a music video up on the deck I’d have to walk through.

  Women packed the area from one railing to the next, forming an impenetrable wall. If I’d been wearing my pole shoes, I could’ve looked over them for some sort of path, but at my normal height, I was stuck.

  “Excuse me!” I said. “Excuse me!”

  Nothing. No response. After a moment, I turned to head back toward the elevators. I could cross on a lower deck, then head back up. I met another woman’s eyes on my way. “Giving up? We heard they might take a few more extras if people don’t show.”

  “Oh, I’m not here for the video,” I said. “I teach pole fitness.”

  “Really, here?”

  “Yeah.” I briefed her on the details while walking toward the elevator.

  “Sounds cool,” she said. “Maybe if my friends and I don’t get in, we’ll come up.”

  “Great! You can also come up after. Deck 15, next to the spa. Classes starting on the hour all morning, picking up again after lunch at one.”

  She thanked me when we reached the elevator bay. With another glance at the throng of people, I decided to take the stairs instead. Moments later, I darted into my studio, only four minutes late.

  Luckily, the backup on the deck must’ve slowed everyone, because hardly anyone waited when I arrived. I changed quickly in the storeroom, and returned to find a group of about a dozen women, including the one I spoke to up on the deck. I waved at her.

  “Good morning, everyone! My name is Janey.” I paused with a practiced smile, making eye contact with each student in the front row before continuing my spiel. “This is where most pole fitness instructors will talk about how they’re not strippers. I’m not going to do that. I used to be a stripper, and that’s how I became damn good at working the pole.”

  A couple of the women gasped. Someone chuckled. I followed the sound to find an elderly black woman giving me the thumbs up. She received the real smile, not the practiced stage smile reserved for almost everyone.

  Beaming back at me, she said, “Own it, girl.”

  I gave her a thumbs up before returning to the rest of the group. “Look, I’m not here to sugarcoat things, I’m here to teach you how to pole. I like dancing. I liked stripping; it paid well. I wasn’t putting myself through law school or medical school or raising a bunch of sick orphans. It’s just that I like to eat and pay my rent and stripping gave me the money to do those things. I’m not ashamed.”

  Some of the dubious looks started to fade, as usual. Occasionally at this point someone would leave, but most women who signed up for a pole fitness class on a cruise ship came to have fun and didn’t care about the teacher’s history. I’d never see most of them again. Except the ones who stayed back after class to read me the word of the Lord. That was always fun. I enjoyed explaining to people that you could believe in God and still be proud of the body he gave you and use it to your advantage. The Lord helps those who help themselves, right?

  One woman sneered at me from the back of the room. It took me a minute to recognize her. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun and she wore no makeup this morning, but we’d met. In the boarding area, she was the woman who yanked Dr. Frank out of our conversation so he could board. Lila? Lena? No, Lisa. That’s right. Even as my student, she wore the same disdainful expression most people reserved for stepping in dog poop. It took a lot of balls to glare at your teacher like that. With a deep breath, I forced myself to meet her eyes and smile. No reaction.

  It didn’t matter. I was here to teach a class, not make friends with snotty women. I wasn’t allowed to toss students out of my classes unless they became physically or verbally abusive, so I might as well grin and bear it until the hour ended. After years of practice, not a problem.

  To Lisa’s right stood Frank, which made my smile widen a notch. Last night, I’d insisted that he attend as many of my regular classes as he could, but especially this first one. Before we could prepare for Saturday’s show, I needed to assess his fitness level, strength, flexibility, and make sure he hadn’t been lying about his ballet history. My first break in classes wasn’t until three o’clock this afternoon, and I didn’t want to lose half a day’s planning and practice. Still, part of me was surprised he’d shown up, even after spotting Lisa. I wondered what he’d said to get her to come with him. Her body language told me Lisa didn’t voluntarily sign up for an hour of pole fitness at seven a.m.

  Most of the women in this room, including Lisa, wore running shorts or yoga pants (despite the program making it clear that the more skin exposed, the better) with tank tops. Frank had followed my directions, donning a pair of bicycle shorts that left nothing to the imagination. They clung so well to his thighs, I wanted to chastise him for wearing a longish shirt, brush that fabric aside to see how the spandex hugged his tight butt. From the day before I knew he had a nice body, but seeing it with my own eyes made me wipe my palms against my shorts.

  Focus, Janey. Sweaty dancers don’t stick to the pole. He’s a means to an end.

  “This class is about getting in touch with your inner self,” I said. “Pole means something different to everyone. Some people use it to earn a living, like me. Some people like the confidence pole gives them. Some like to build their strength. And some women want to learn to be sexy.”

  While speaking, I never stopped moving around the pole. When I got to the word “confidence,” I jumped up, locking my thighs around the pole. In the same seamless motion, I allowed myself to fall backwards and spread my arms wide, holding myself aloft by only my ankles. On “strong,” I moved up, gripped the pole with my forearms, and lifted my legs straight out to one side like a flag blowing in the wind. And when I got to “sexy”, I dropped to the floor, looking up at the others with a pouty face. By the time I finished, most of them were smiling. I didn’t spare a glance for Lisa, but Frank looked impressed. When I met his eyes, he mimed enthusiastic clapping. Always playing to my audience, I gave him a sweeping bow.

  A girl in the front row shook her head with a wry smile. When she moved her head, gorgeous blonde waves tumbled down her back. “I’m not sexy.”

  “That’s BS,” I said, and I meant it. Seeing this beautiful girl tell me she wasn’t sexy made me want to throttle the society that said women all had to look like Pixie Stix. “What’s your name?”

  “Heidi.”

  “Well, Heidi, you have signed up for the sexy class. All of you have. Everyone can be sexy, once they give themselves permission. When you leave here, you will feel like the sexiest, fiercest bitch who ever walked a deck
.” She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, but didn’t contradict me. To the rest of the class, I said, “That reminds me–it’s time to put on your shoes if you’ve got ‘em. If not, there are spare pairs in the back of the room. Don’t worry, I clean them after every use.”

  Once everyone changed into heels and returned to their poles, I reached up high and grabbed the pole beside me with my right hand. Using one arm, I swung around in a circle before kicking my legs out to swing in a scissor motion, circling around. With my left hand, I reached behind me and pushed off the pole, swinging my body back and forth while rotating around back to my starting point.

  “Once you gain your confidence and master the basics, there’s nothing you can’t do. Is everyone ready?”

  The women nodded. Heidi still looked dubious. Lisa looked a touch scared. I probably shouldn’t have started off showing such complex moves; usually, I saved the real show for the end of the class. But seeing the look on her face, remembering the way she treated me for being “the help,” made me want to show her that I was just as good as her. Putting that look of fear in her eyes made me smirk a bit on the inside, even knowing that sinking to Lisa’s level didn’t make me the better person.

  We go high, I reminded myself, vowing to remain on my best behavior.

  The class started with a fairly basic warm-up: squats and stretches and leg lifts and sit-ups. Nothing too strenuous. On the fitness-themed cruises, I taught an entire class of just pole-related calisthenics, and it was killer. People moaned and groaned for days–but they also came back every morning at eight for more. But this week’s cruise was largely for singles, meaning I taught sexy pole. At least it wasn’t another Pets Onboard cruise. All those dogs in the pole room… I shuddered at the memory.

  For these classes, I usually took it relatively easy on the group, starting with a few stretches and basic exercises to get everyone’s heart rate up. But today, I needed to see what my new partner could do, so I pulled out all the stops.

  By the time the warmup ended, most of the class panted for breath. Frank followed along smoothly, which eased my mind a bit. We didn’t have time to build his stamina, so it helped that he started this project in good shape. He didn’t have quite the flexibility I’d want for an advanced routine, but Penny and I could modify a couple of moves.

 

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