“I’m fine!” I say, but I can tell she doesn’t believe me. “Okay, you’re right. It’s been kind of a rough few days. But I just have to be perfect from now on, that’s all.”
If the captain wants me to follow the rules and do everything perfectly, fine. I’ll be so disgustingly perfect, he won’t have any reason to single me out. Then I’ll get my camera back, and Mom’s job (and mine) will be totally secure.
Katy rolls her eyes. “Oh, only perfect. That sounds easy.” Then she puts her arm around me. “Come on. Let’s get you to the photo booth before Curt has a fit.”
I’m so focused on everything going perfectly that I sail through the rest of the day. I barely pay attention to what I’m doing when I’m helping Mitch!, and my dining hall duty flies by in a mashed potato haze. By the time I get to the theater that evening, I’m barely nervous about going out onstage. Until I’m standing in the wings, that is, and then the same old room-spinning panic sets in. Thankfully, Ian materializes next to me yet again. As he escorts me out onto the stage, he whispers into my ear, “Break a leg.” And that’s it. I’m on the mattress, eyes closed, still breathing, and still totally awake. Maybe this perfect thing really can happen.
* * *
In the morning, I pore over the towel-folding book while Katy takes a shower. After practicing a few shapes on my own towel, I finally decide to have the class make dogs. Even though the dog instructions look a little tough, I think the kids will like it. If need be, I’ll fold myself into a dog shape to make them happy.
“I’ve decided today is the day,” Katy says, coming out of the teeny bathroom. Even though she doesn’t have her fish tail on, she’s shuffling around as if her legs are bound together. I hope she can still walk at the end of the summer. “I’m going to finally get Smith to ask me out.”
“How are you going to do that?”
She sighs. “I don’t know!” Then she gives me a wide smile. “Sooo, what about you? Any luck with Neil?”
I groan. “I’ve barely seen him. And every time I think he might ask me out, we get interrupted.”
“So maybe today is the day you ask him out,” Katy says.
“Are you crazy? What if he says no?”
She laughs. “Why would he?”
That’s easy for her to say. She’s got more confidence than five of me put together. I wish her luck—she’s going to need it if she plans to have an actual conversation with Smith—and then head to my class.
As I weave through throngs of people, the ship feels jam-packed all over again. Since we’re spending the day at sea, everyone is already staked out on beach chairs, ready for a day of sunbathing. I guess they’ve never heard about the dangers of spending so much time in the sun. Some of them are starting to look a lot like my dad’s old leather briefcase.
My dad. I picture him in his small apartment, typing away on his computer while sipping his hundredth cup of tea and putting yet another pair of socks on his perpetually cold feet even though it’s summer. And even though I’m still mad at him, for a second, I really miss him. He’d know what to call the teen lounge to get people to go there. He’d probably come up with a name straight out of some poem, and it would be perfect. But even if I wanted to ask him for help, I can’t exactly call him from the middle of the ocean.
I shake thoughts of my dad out of my head and go inside the Fairy Fun Zone, determined to make some amazing towel dogs. The minute the kids see me, they start swarming around. There are way more of them today than yesterday since everyone’s back on the ship again.
“Can we make griffins?” Nathan asks. “You know, half-lion, half-eagle creatures?”
“Towels are so boring,” Jorman chimes in. “Can we pretend to be centaurs? We could fight each other!”
“No, we can be unicorns!” Sophia says. “Flying unicorns!”
“A flying unicorn is called a Pegasus,” Nathan informs her.
“Peanut butter!” another boy is yelling for some reason. “Peanut butter! Peanut butter!”
“We’re making towel dogs today,” I announce.
“Dogs?” Jorman says, wrinkling his nose. “What’s magical about dogs?”
“They’re … a man’s best friend,” I say. “That’s pretty magical, isn’t it? They obey our commands almost like they can read our minds.” The kids give me skeptical looks.
“What about fairies?” Sophia says. “Can we throw glitter and be fairies?”
“I’m a werewolf!” Jorman yells. “Awooooooo!”
The other kids join in, and soon the entire room is howling and running around. If the captain hears us, I’m dead. I try to shush them, but that only makes the kids howl louder.
“Stop it!” I finally cry. “Stop, all of you! We’re making towel dogs today and that’s final! Now everyone be quiet and get in a circle!”
The enormous towel-folding book slips out of my hands and lands on the floor with a thunderous clap. All the kids jump. Then they stare at me, stunned. I realize it’s the first time I’ve yelled at them. I feel terrible, but I have to keep this class on track.
The kids obey me without uttering a word. Sophia looks ready to cry.
“It’ll be fun. I promise,” I tell her, but she won’t look at me. Instead, she goes to sit with Nathan as if he’ll protect her from their scary teacher. Sigh.
When the kids are all in a circle, I start showing them how to make the dogs, and for once I even get it right on the first try. I proudly hold up my towel dog for the kids to see. “Now it’s your turn,” I tell them.
The kids barely say anything as they start working. The laughing group from the past few days is gone. I wish I could explain to them how important it is for us to follow the rules, to do everything by the book, but I don’t even know if they’d listen to me.
Finally, after Nathan’s gone around and inspected everyone’s dog for accuracy, the class is over. The kids sit around quietly playing with their towels or having whispered conversations, clearly afraid I’m going to yell again or start throwing my giant book at them.
When Sophia’s mom comes in, her forehead wrinkles. “So quiet in here today,” she says. “What happened?”
I hold my breath, afraid Sophia will tell her about how I almost made her cry. But the girl simply holds out her dog and says, “Look what I made, Mommy.” I could hug her.
The other kids also show off their dogs to their parents, and I can tell they’re proud to have made something that looks good. But it kills me that they didn’t have fun. Not even close.
When I get to Blended with Love to run lines with Ian, I find him hunched over his script, mouthing words to himself.
“Sorry, I can’t stay long,” I tell him. “My mom needs my help with something.”
“That’s okay. Thanks for doing this,” he says, giving me a bright smile. “I’ve been running the new scene all morning, so this shouldn’t take long.”
“I think you practice more than anyone else on this ship,” I say, actually kind of impressed.
He shrugs. “I can’t afford to mess up.”
I almost laugh. Maybe he and I should start a club. “I’m sure you’ll do great. You’re like perfect at everything.”
“What are you talking about?” he says, giving me a skeptical look.
“You and Lady Lovely get a standing ovation every night. Plus, you’re amazing with kids. And you saved Katy’s life!”
“None of it is enough to impress my dad,” he says.
“Then let’s start practicing.” I grab Ian’s hand and pull him up, and for just a second, we stand there holding hands. A weird tingle travels up my arm, as if my skin is pulsing with electricity. But wait, this is Piggy Ian we’re talking about! I don’t like him. I like Neil!
I pull my hand away and the tingling fades. “Where do we start?”
We run through scenes from the final show, and this time there’s even more dancing than before. Luckily, with Ian’s lead, I manage to fudge my way through the dance without falling o
ver.
When we take a water break, I’m surprised to see that we’ve already been practicing for a half hour. I really should go help my mom in the kitchen—with whatever “emergency” she sent me a message about after my class—but I’m actually reluctant to leave.
“So what’s the deal with your dad?” I ask instead. “Why does he care what you’re doing on this ship?” I seriously doubt my dad would care about how well my job is going.
Ian shrugs. “I thought if he could see me working at being an actor, and doing a good job at it, he’d finally realize that it’s what I’m meant to be doing. He’s never even seen me perform, but he’s coming to the final night. I have to show him what I can do. Maybe then he’ll take me seriously.”
“Wait, your dad is on board?”
Ian lets out a long sigh. “I thought maybe you knew,” he says. “He’s the captain.”
“The—the captain? You mean …” I gasp. “Do you mean Captain Hook?” This doesn’t make sense. Ian is the captain’s son? The one the captain mentioned in the towel-folding class yesterday?
“He prefers Captain Thomas,” Ian says.
“But … but your last name isn’t Thomas.”
“I have my mom’s.”
My brain is spinning. That’s why Ian was able to say all that stuff to the captain and not worry about having to walk the plank! That’s why he can work here even though he’s only thirteen.
“I don’t tell a lot of people,” Ian goes on. “I don’t want them to treat me differently because of who my dad is, you know?”
“But you lied to me!”
“I didn’t actually lie,” Ian says. “Besides, I thought maybe your mom told you.”
“My mom knows?” I shake my head. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. Is that why the captain gave us all another chance? Because you were the one who asked him to?”
“No. It’s because I reminded him about second chances. Thanks to his accident, he’s all about those.” Ian sighs. “I was really little when it happened, so I don’t remember much about it, but he seemed so different back then …”
But I don’t want to hear it. Just when I was starting to think I might actually be able to trust Ian, it turns out he’s as much of a pig as always.
“I have to go,” I say, getting to my feet.
“But what about—?”
“I told my mom I’d help her with something in the kitchen.”
Ian frowns. “Are you a professional chef?”
“No,” I say with a snort. “I can barely make toast.”
“Then why does your mom need your help at all?”
“She just does, okay?” I start walking away, but Ian follows me. He really can’t take a hint.
“When was the last time you actually said no to something?” he asks.
“I said no to bacon with my eggs this morning.”
“To something real.”
“I don’t have time for—”
“I’m serious, Ainsley,” he says, gently grabbing my elbow. “When did you not do something that someone asked you to do?”
I don’t know why I feel compelled to answer his question, but I say, “My dad wanted me to come live with him for the summer, and I told him no.”
Ian looks skeptical. “I’m just saying, maybe you need to let your mom fix her own problems. You can’t be there for her all the time. What’s the worst that will happen if you say no?”
But I don’t answer. Instead, the anger inside me boils over. “You’re one to talk. Everything you do is to impress your dad! Maybe things with my mom aren’t perfect, but at least I’m not some pathetic puppy doing everything I can to make her like me!”
Ian looks as if I’ve just slapped him, but I push past him and rush for the door.
“Ainsley, wait!” Ian calls after me.
I pause for a second. “No,” I say over my shoulder. Then I go to find my mom.
When I get to the kitchen, I find my mom trying to calm down one of the chefs. He’s pacing around and yelling out things in another language, his blond hair plastered to his face with sweat as he waves his hat around like a flyswatter.
“Ainsley, where have you been?” Mom says when she sees me. “Didn’t you get my message that there was an emergency?”
“I’m sorry. I was—”
“Here,” Mom says, shoving a pot of something into my arms. “Stir this, would you? Before it congeals.”
I glance into the pot of what looks like—I sniff it. Yup, dog food. “What are we doing with this?” I don’t think there are any pets on board, but at this point, nothing would surprise me. A llama could walk by in a belly dancing outfit and I probably wouldn’t even blink.
“Meat-free chili.”
I do blink. “For the human passengers?”
“The vegans are practically rioting, saying the entrees are inedible, so I had Hans whip up some soup for them.”
“But … but this is disgusting!”
The chef lets out a howl beside me. “I knew it was bad!” he says in a thick accent.
“No, it’s fine,” Mom assures him. The she turns to me and whispers, “Please tell me you have a better idea. Thanks to your antics by the pool, the captain is already in a bad mood. We can’t afford to mess anything else up.”
I stare at her. Is she really blaming all this on me? “But I’m not a chef,” I say. “And neither are you. It’s not your job to do any of this stuff, and it definitely isn’t mine!”
“Keep your voice down,” she says.
But I can’t stop. The words just keep pouring out. “And the whole reason Katy and I got into that fight at the pool was because of you. She was saying that I was the grown-up in our relationship and that you were the kid. What was I supposed to do? And all the stuff I’ve done since I got on board was to help you, so that you could keep this job and so that you could finally stay happy so that we could both be ourselves again! Stupid me. I thought I could actually have fun. But you know what, maybe everyone’s right. Maybe I do need to let you fail at something for once.”
Mom’s mouth sags open. And then I see the tears forming in her eyes. Normally, I’d do anything to make them stop. Just like when I was a little kid and I’d shove all my peas into my mouth at once and force myself to swallow them down so that my mom wouldn’t get upset.
But this time I stop myself. Because Ian was right. I’ve never said no to my mom. I’ve always done everything to make her happy, no matter what. And I’m sick of it. I’m tired of cleaning up her messes and only making more of my own in the process. And I’m tired of feeling as if every little thing I do is going to get us sent home.
And suddenly, I realize that I’m done. With all of it. I’ve had enough.
“You can try to save your job if you want,” I tell her, “but when we get to Florida, I’m hopping on the next plane home.”
Then I walk away. As I make my way to my room, Ian’s voice echoes in my head. “What’s the worst that will happen if you say no?”
I guess I’m about to find out.
* * *
When I get back to my room, my brain is still spinning. What will I do after we get back to Fort Lauderdale? I wish I could go stay with Alyssa or Brooke, but they won’t be back from camp for a few more weeks. Which leaves only one option. Going to live with my dad.
I sigh and dig my dad’s letter out of the bottom of my suitcase. Then I flop onto my bed and slowly unfold the thick paper.
He told me that he hoped “this letter sheds some light on things” when he gave it to me, but the first few lines made me so furious that I threw it aside and refused to even say good-bye to him before I left. But since I’m going to be spending the rest of the summer with him, I guess it’s time to actually read it.
I start to skim through like I did last time, trying to decipher the scratchy handwriting, but then a phrase stops me: I couldn’t keep fixing your mother. I swallow and start reading the letter, really reading.
I know you’re
still angry with me, Ainsley, but I couldn’t keep fixing your mother. She wanted more and more until I had nothing left, until my life wasn’t mine anymore. We both love her very much, and I understand why you would choose to live with her, but I hope you know that I wasn’t abandoning you when I moved out. I was trying to stop a cycle that would only make things worse for our family. I’m afraid, though, that I see your mother relying on you more and more in my absence. I hope you’ll be stronger than I was. And I hope you know that you’re always welcome here with me, no matter what.
When I’m done, my chest is ready to burst. Instead of the burning anger I felt before, this time, it’s something else … something like understanding.
All this time, I was angry at my dad for leaving us, for making my mom so upset, for upending our lives. But really, he did what I’m doing now. He was trying to get his life back.
And that’s what I have to do. I’ve been so busy keeping my mom happy that I haven’t gotten to take any pictures or have any fun or even have a real conversation with Neil. But that’s going to change. If I’m only going to be on this ship for two more days, I’m finally going to say yes to what I want.
* * *
I find Neil scraping gum off a stack of recliners on the upper deck.
“Hey,” I say, marching over to him, determination pumping through my veins. “How’s it going?”
“Oh, you know,” he says. “More grunt work.”
I laugh. “I can relate.”
“Really? I thought since you were Lydia’s daughter, you’d get your pick of jobs.”
“Nope. I get to fill in for whoever needs something.” And do a million things that I know nothing about, like fixing laundry messes and figuring out vegan entrees. But not for much longer!
“But if you asked your mom to put you on a different job, she’d do it, right?”
I shrug, not wanting to get into the whole weirdness between my mom and me. “Any good vocabulary words today?” I ask, desperate to change the subject.
Once Upon a Cruise Page 10
