Best Friends & Other Liars

by Heather Balog

  So much for the voice of reason.

  “Did you book this cruise so you could mock us poor divorced souls?” Francine asked, crossing her arms over her chest. She was still wearing that scowl like a badge of honor, almost as if she enjoyed being angry with people.

  “No! It wasn’t like that!” I looked toward the door at that point, hoping that Vi would come back and rescue me. Well, maybe not rescue me, but at least if she re-appeared, maybe the table would focus back on her and her dramatic exit stage left.

  But it wasn’t to be. Vi was nowhere in sight. And I didn’t really deserve to be rescued by her, did I? It was my fault that she was in this situation, not the other way around.

  “Listen,” I said, chewing my cuticle and immediately tasting my mango colored nail polish. “I wanted to take Vi on a vacation of a lifetime. She’s had a shitty life so far and this is her fortieth birthday. I don’t make nearly as much money as I claim to make in front of her, so I knew I wouldn’t be able to afford anything that was as great as she deserved. You know she got me backstage passes to a Bon Jovi concert for my birthday a few years back?”

  Kendall gasped. “Was he totally as hot as he looks?”

  “Hotter,” I replied with a smile. “The Bon Jovi concert was one of the highlights of my life and I have been spending the last ten years trying to figure out how to repay Vi. And besides, she really, truly deserves an amazing vacation. She’s an amazing person and an amazing friend. My friend Troy got discounts for this trip and I jumped on it. I didn’t realize it was a divorce cruise until I had already gotten it in my head that we were going to go. I didn’t want to have to ditch the whole idea and start from scratch.” I shrugged as I gazed at the three of them. “I figured it wouldn’t really matter anyway. I wasn’t planning on meeting anyone that I cared about.” My eyes lingered on Nick.

  “That’s a lovely story,” Nick said with a scowl as he pushed his chair back from the table and stood. “I’ve got to get to work. I wasn’t planning on risking my job for a liar, so I’m not going to be late so I can listen to her excuses.”

  My mouth dropped open. “But Nick, I…”

  He put his hand up to stop me. “Save it. I can’t believe I risked this job for a woman who couldn’t even tell me the truth.”

  Without another word, he stormed off.

  Staring after him, I found tears welling in my eyes. I then excused myself to go find Vi and currently gawk at her like I can’t form a sentence. She is poking at my arm right now.

  “Seriously, Leah. What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nick hates me.”

  “I doubt he hates you.”

  “Oh, I’m pretty sure he hates me. He was risking his job, you know.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, he’s not supposed to engage in any romantic relationships with passengers. I mean, he’s allowed to talk to us and even hang out with us, but nothing more than that.”

  “So what does that have to do with being on a divorce cruise if you’re not actually divorced? I’m not understanding how he can be mad at you and it doesn’t even matter. If he was risking his job, it’s irrelevant if you were divorced or not.”

  She does have a good point, but I think Nick’s issue is more the fact that I lied about being divorced. Well, actually, I never really lied. I just omitted the whole not-divorced fact. I explain that to Violet.

  “You hardly go around and announce to people that you’re not divorced. But honesty does have its place in all relationships. You probably should have broached the subject at some point.”

  I take a deep breath. Honesty is important in relationships and by the events of today, I can see that lack of honesty can ruin things quickly.

  I take a deep breath. “While we’re being honest, there’s something else I haven’t told you.”

  Vi stares at me wide-eyed. “Oh, no. What else could you possibly be lying about?”

  “Not lying. I just never told you something about my past and it’s haunted me. I know it’s stupid, but I can’t seem to bring myself to tell you about why I don’t like the ocean. Why I don’t swim. About losing my dad.”

  She cocks her head to the side and takes my hand. “Leah, you can tell me anything.”

  “I know,” I say, and then I launch into my tale of woe—how I nearly drowned that day in the ocean and how my dad wanted me to put on my big girl panties and deal with it. And how guilty I felt about never patching things up with him before he died. When I am done speaking, Vi is crying. Why am I not surprised?

  “Vi, don’t cry about it!”

  “It’s just so sad, Leah!” She is dabbing at her eyes with her sweater sleeves.

  “I guess. But I didn’t tell you that story to make you sad. I just wanted you to know everything about me. The way I know everything about you.”

  “How do you know that you know everything about me?” she asks.

  “You’re not good at lying. Or omitting the truth. You are the most honest person I know…to a fault.”

  “You don’t know that…oh who am I kidding? You’re right.”

  “I know I’m right. I’ve known you for a very long time, Vi. You’re honest and predictable.”

  Vi gives me the stink eye that she usually reserves for her kids when they break something or fight in public. It doesn’t deter me and it usually doesn’t deter them either. Except for Samantha. Samantha’s a good egg. Most of the time.

  “Can you predict this?” Vi asks, standing up and picking up the bowl that’s sitting on the table. Before I can even blink, she has tossed water at me, drenching my entire upper body. I stare at her, open mouthed, gasping. In our twenty-five plus years of friendship, Vi has never done anything like this to me and I am completely stunned by the fact she chose this very moment—when I’m pretty down in the dumps to begin with—to do it.

  “What is wrong with you?”

  Violet winces and tugs off the sweater that she is wearing. “Dang it, I thought it would make you laugh. Here, have my sweater.”

  “Make me laugh? Are you crazy?” If there are any whales in nearby water they would be picking up the vibrations from my screeching.

  “Um, maybe a little. I’m so sorry, Leah. I didn’t realize there was so much water in the bowl.” Vi’s lip is quivering and her eyes are welling up.

  Oh great. She’s about to cry.

  “I’m kidding!” I lie, throwing my hands up in the air and nearly punching her in the face as she attempts to dry the water off my chin with the sweater.

  She observes me skeptically. “Are you really?”

  “Of course! Very funny joke, Vi.” I playfully punch her in the arm. She still stares at me with doubt. “Seriously!”

  “Well, okay. But I’m really sorry about it.”

  “You don’t apologize about jokes, silly. That makes them unfunny,” I explain, dramatically hanging my head.

  “Oh, sorry.”

  I sigh.

  “Let’s just go to the cabin so I can change out of these wet clothes, and then we’ll go back to the table for dessert.”

  I start to walk toward the entrance when I realize that Vi isn’t behind me. I turn around to see her clutching the wet sweater in her hands. She shivering and I can’t be sure due to the lack of lighting, but I think her lips are blue. And she’s crying. Ughhhhhhhh.

  “Vi! Why are you crying?”

  “Because you’re the best friend ever!” Vi wails, dropping her arms at her side, the sweater hanging limply. Her body starts to shake violently.

  “Oh, Jesus. Come on, let’s go inside.”

  Vi allows me to drag her toward the door, all the while describing my positive attributes and explaining why I am the best friend on all the planet. This list includes allowing her to throw things at me without getting mad, and also details an incident when we were nineteen and I lied to her mom for her about the pot he found in her room. I told her that it was mine. Which was pretty plausible and the dope believed me.

&nb
sp; Honestly, it was no skin off my nose at all at the time, but Vi acted like I should have been given the congressional medal of honor for that sacrifice. Her mom was a bitch to Vi all the time when she was growing up, always yelling at her for every stupid little thing, so I guess she could have a point about that making me the best best friend in the world. But at this moment, I don’t feel like the best anything in the world.

  VIOLET

  We approach the dining room with trepidation.

  “Do we really need to go back in there?” Leah asks, a slight whine to her voice.

  “It was your idea. I’m good without dessert. Even though it is my birthday.”

  “Ugh,” Leah groans dramatically. I half expect her to fling her hand across her forehead like she’s going to faint.

  I am not thrilled with the idea of going back in there myself. Who knows how they’re going to react? But does it really matter? We don’t ever have to see these people again.

  That thought causes a pang of sadness in my chest. But I want to see these people again. I want them as friends.

  I shake off all my conflicting thoughts as we enter the dining room. I have enough friends. I don’t need more to complicate things. Okay, I have Leah. But I definitely don’t need George complicating things. When I get home tomorrow, things are going to have to change, and being friends with George won’t help matters. Especially since, if I have to be honest with myself, I am attracted to him. Which is absolutely ridiculous, considering I have never been attracted to another man the entire time I have been with Richard. With the exception of celebrities, of course. And our lawn guy. And only when he takes his shirt off.

  “Vi.” Leah is shoving me forward.

  I blink and realize we are now standing at the table, staring at the faces of the people I have gotten to know over the past week. After the big revelation and subsequent blow-out at dinner, I am ready to put this day to bed. Quickly.

  “Vi,” Leah says again, this time poking my arm. “You’re staring,” she hisses in my ear.

  I guess I am. I’m standing there with my mouth open, gawking at the occupants of the table. George has found his way back to his seat, and Francine and Kendall are looking at me expectantly. The only one conspicuously missing is Nick.

  I have no idea what to say to them. I owe them nothing...not even an explanation, but for some reason, I want to give it to them anyway.

  Focus, Violet, focus!

  I’m about to speak when Francine says, “Come sit back down, guys.” She waves toward our chairs. “We won’t bite, I promise.” She offers us a weak smile that she immediately tries to intensify, resulting in a lopsided, almost creepy grin, like the Joker’s. I guess she doesn’t get much practice in smiling.

  “Yeah,” Kendall chimes in, patting the seat beside her.

  At our places are desserts of chocolate mousse torte, topped with a dollop of vanilla ice cream. The ice cream is almost completely melted. I look around the table and discover that the others have finished their dessert. Even the plate in front of Nick’s spot is licked clean.

  George sees my eyes trail toward Nick’s plate and guiltily says, “The dessert was really good. I will regret it in the morning, but for now...well, the dessert was really good.”

  Francine interrupts. “Anyway, while you guys were gone, we were talking.” She frowns. This is where they are going to rip into us for lying about being divorced. Who knows, maybe they will even turn us in to the staff. What do they do in these situations? Throw people overboard? Make them pay extra?

  “We realize, well, some of us realize with a little prodding—” Francine jerks her head toward Kendall, “that it’s none of our business whether you’re divorced or not. It doesn’t affect our trip. It’s not like it takes something away from our experience if you’re not divorced and we are.”

  “Wow, um, that’s...wow, thanks guys. You know, for not being angry,” Leah says, smiling broadly.

  “Oh, I didn’t say we weren’t angry,” Francine retorts. “I just said we understand that it’s none of our business. I’m furious.”

  Leah’s smile drops off her face. “But...but…”

  “You lied to us,” Francine says, poking her finger at Leah.

  Leah starts to open her mouth to speak, but for once in our friendship, I interject before she can get the words out.

  “Listen, guys. Leah and I are really sorry for having misled you all. We meant no disrespect.”

  Leah nods, but doesn’t say anything, content to allow me to continue to speak

  “We value your friendship. I hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive us for our gross misdeeds. We’d like to remain friends with you if possible.”

  Shocked and proud of myself for being our spokesperson without crying, I smooth out the back of my dress and plop down on my chair. I grab my fork and start to dig into my dessert.

  “Gross?” Kendall chirps.

  I pause mid-bite. Is she calling me gross? Or is she saying that the dessert is gross?

  Francine promptly chimes in, “It means blatant, Kendall. Gross doesn’t just mean...icky. Girl, I’m getting you a dictionary for your birthday this year. How do you get to be forty years old and not know that?”

  Francine winks at me and then rolls her eyes. I bite my lip, trying not to let the laugh bubble that is building in my chest, escape. Laughing is almost as bad as crying for me. I will start to laugh and end up peeing myself from overexertion.

  “Oh,” Kendall replies nonchalantly as she dabs the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “I’m going to ignore your dig at my age, Francine. Where’s the waiter?” she asks, eyes skirting around the crowded dining room until she spots our waiter. She waves at him and his eyes widen with fear.

  Earlier in the dinner, Kendall took a shining to our waiter Giancarlo and decided to flirt with him mercilessly. Needless to say, the nearly infantile Giancarlo was neither flattered, nor happy about the unsolicited attention from a woman old enough to be his mother. Kendall, however, does not seem to understanding this basic fact, and now stands up, waving Giancarlo over to our table. When he sees her rise to her feet, he takes off toward the kitchen like a bat out of hell.

  “Giancarlo!” she calls after him. “I want another round of drinks!” She runs after him, stumbling in her heels—mostly due to the fact that she’s already had several rounds of drinks already.

  Francine looks at me and I can’t help it now. We bust out laughing. In fact, we start laughing so hard that Francine is gasping and crying at the same time.

  “Poor guy,” Francine gasps, wiping the tears from her eyes. “She’s relentless when she wants something. Barely legal men are her specialty.”

  Just then, music starts playing and the room is bathed in total darkness.

  “Ladies and gentlemen!” a voice calls out from the darkness, and light slowly begins to filter in from the sconces lining the walls of the dining room. A spotlight is turned on and aimed at the dance floor where a man in a tux and a woman in a stunning red, sequined flapper dress have suddenly appeared.

  “Ooo,” Leah squeals, clutching my arm. “I love that dress!”

  “Last night was the last night of the decade! At midnight, we said goodbye to the teens. In honor of the new decade, we have lined up a night of entertainment for our foray into...the Roaring Twenties!”

  “I forgot it was New Year’s Day,” George mutters from across the table.

  “You forgot last night was New Year’s Eve?” Leah whispers. “We had fireworks and a party. How could you forget?”

  “Today has been so long,” George explains. “Yesterday feels like last year or something.” He laughs at his own joke, and Leah rolls her eyes.

  We watch in amazement as the dancing duo twirls, and the woman shakes her sequined booty in front of us.

  “I wish I could learn to dance like that,” Leah says with a mournful sigh.

  “Dance like that?” Kendall pipes up, sitting back down at the table with a drink. “I
wish I could wear a dress like that. Damn, that dress wouldn’t fit over my left thigh.”

  “Oh stop, Kendall! You’re twig!” Leah says with an eye roll. “I would kill to have your BMI.”

  “Who are you kidding, Leah?” Kendall replies. “You’re skinnier than me...by a long shot. I bet you weigh at least ten pounds less than I do.”

  “No way. Not after a week of buffet foods and endless cocktails,” Leah retorts dramatically.

  I chuckle as the two thinnest people at the table argue over who is fatter. I glance over at George who is intently watching the talented dancers. He must feel my eyes on him because he turns his head. I make that swirling around the temple motion to indicate I think both Kendall and Leah are nuts. George laughs and shakes his head before returning to watching the dancers with rapt attention.

  I smile to myself—I may not be ready for a new relationship with anyone, but at least I know, I’ve got a friend in George. It almost makes me want to burst out into that Toy Story song, but I refrain—I don’t want my new friends to think that I’m nuts.

  At least, not any more than they already do.

  LEAH

  “It’s beddy-bye time,” Vi croons at me like I’m a five-year-old.

  “No!” I protest, jutting out my lip. “I’m having fun! I don’t want to go to bed yet!” Okay, I may be acting like a five-year-old as well.

  “Leah,” Vi says with exasperation, throwing her hands up. She is drawing attention to her hair by doing that—I find myself staring at it in fascination. It is windblown and crazed, and she’s making it worse by running her hand through it.

  “Violet. Don’t be such a spoil sport. It’s our last night of the cruise and the night is still young!” I throw my hands up and whirl around in a circle. “Let’s party! These are party people right here!”

  We are in the Grand ballroom that is now almost empty—except for the wait staff that is sweeping up around us and clearing off tables. Okay, maybe they’re not exactly party people. At least, not at the moment.