Sweet Reality

by Laura Heffernan

  My phone showed a friend request from Mother Madison, which I accepted.

  Hi, Madison. How can I help you? How’s the baby?

  She gestured to the corner, where a young girl with dark, spiky hair sat next to the stroller. I’d seen her around, so I waved. She waved back.

  My friend Kat is sitting with Noah for now. He’ll be fine for a few minutes. Thank you for returning his bear.

  It was nothing.

  She pointed at the piece of paper still sitting in my lap.

  I brought something for you.

  What, this? The itinerary? I have one.

  Flip it over.

  Since we were in port all day, the itinerary didn’t include much of a list of onboard events for the day. I turned the document, revealing an unprinted page filled with rows of neat, precise letters in blue ink:

  2 medium, ripe bananas

  2 eggs

  1 cup sugar

  ½ cup oil

  Hardly daring to believe, I dropped the paper in my lap and picked up my phone again.

  You’ve brought me a recipe?

  I can read lips, sort of. I saw your conversation with Tammy Rae from over there. Parts of it, anyway. Tammy Rae’s had so many collagen injections, her lips don’t move when she speaks. But I got the gist from you.

  I giggled, resisting the urge to cover my mouth with one hand. It never occurred to me that Madison might be able to read lips. Deaf people always did it in books or on TV, but I thought that was more about laziness than accuracy.

  I had no idea you can read lips.

  Very little. It’s not easy. Anyway, you can’t use her recipe, right? Unless you substitute baby formula?

  My fingers flew over the tiny keypad.

  Not in this lifetime. Even if we could find a workable substitute, if word got out what the secret ingredient should have been, it would be a PR nightmare. No one would believe we didn’t use breast milk. We’d get sued. The health department would shut us down while they investigated, and we’d lose all our customers if we reopened.

  I shook my head miserably.

  My partner’s going to kill me. If I still have a partner.

  Madison stared at me sympathetically before she started typing again. A moment later, my phone buzzed.

  Use this. It won the bake-off, right? There’s some cachet for you. It’s my grandmother’s specialty: chocolate cupcakes with roasted banana centers and peanut butter frosting. No bodily fluids included.

  I chuckled at the last bit. A second later, another message popped up on my screen.

  What could be better? You don’t have to pay me a royalty, although I want my picture next to the display.

  My taste buds sang at the reminder of the cupcakes Madison presented at the bake-off. Suddenly everything looked brighter. Caramelized bananas as a secret ingredient beat the hell out of breast milk. Maybe I could get something good out of this cruise, after all. If Sarah didn’t fire me. I typed.

  You mean it? You’ll let us use the recipe? Why? You don’t know me.

  1. Putting breast milk in people food is effing gross. You can’t use that. 2. You’ve been through a lot the past year. I know a bit about bullies. You think it’s easy to be pregnant at sixteen? Switching to the hearing high school because it’s got free day care and being the only Deaf girl around? Trust me, I know assholes. Consider this your reward for putting up with Ariana. 3. You chased me across half the deck when my son dropped a toy. You didn’t have to do that.

  I blinked at her reply several times before responding. After deleting a couple of false starts, I sent a message.

  You saw the show? Then why are you hanging around with Ariana? Aren’t you friends?

  She shook her head.

  She’s just practicing her ASL. It’s not so great, but it’s nice to have someone make the effort. Besides, she doesn’t know I read lips. At the bake-off, I saw her telling Braden she’s only being nice to me to make her seem more likable to the viewers.

  Textbook Ariana. Of course.

  That sucks. I’m sorry.

  No problem. I’m used to it.

  Nibbling my lower lip, I studied her. For someone so young, Madison had been through a lot. I wanted to hug her, but didn’t know how the gesture would go over. Still, my heart went out to her.

  Shaking my head, I offered the paper to her before picking my phone up again.

  Thanks, but it’s too late. Justin’s with Ariana now. My partner is his twin sister; there’s no way she’s going to let me keep working there. She’ll buy me out as soon as I get home.

  She stood and stuffed her hands in her pockets, not taking the recipe. She tapped the interpreter on the shoulder to rejoin us. Madison said, “Things aren’t as bad as you think.”

  Not as bad as I thought? I didn’t have the energy to go into it. With a groan, I leaned against the chair and closed my eyes. “It’s worse.”

  “Cheer up, lady.” A hand touched my knee briefly before she walked away.

  My phone buzzed again. Madison again.

  Open your eyes. Look around.

  What the hell?

  Then, behind me, I heard the voice I’d been yearning for all week. The low tone that sent chills down my spine, that filled me with desire, and that knew how to make me laugh better than anyone I’d never met.

  “Hey.”

  At first, I didn’t dare look up for fear I imagined him. When Justin’s well-worn tennis shoes appeared in the place where I glared at the floor, my heart skipped a beat.

  “Hey,” I said softly.

  He settled onto the chair beside mine. “We need to talk.”

  Every time I heard those four little words, I hated them more. Finally, I met his gaze. To my surprise, he looked as bad as I felt. Dark circles ringed his eyes. His hair was tousled like when he’d spent four days studying and not bothered to shower. The wrinkles in his clothes might be permanent.

  “What happened to your hair?” Justin asked.

  “That’s what you want to talk about? My hair?” The icing on the cake of this hideous week came in the form of the guy I’d thought I’d be spending the rest of my life with telling me he hated my newly bald head.

  “Just humor me for a second. Why did you shave your head?”

  Briefly, I filled him in on the poker tournament. As I spoke, his face became less guarded. By the time I got to the final card, he wore a real smile. Maybe discussing my horrible luck broke the ice for us.

  My more optimistic side suggested that maybe he was just glad we were talking again, about anything. I certainly was. I missed him like crazy. Every time I woke up in the night and didn’t find him an arm’s length or a text away, my heart ached.

  “I didn’t have sex with Ariana,” he said when I finished. “And I know nothing happened with you and Dominic.”

  Hope leapt inside me, lodging in my throat and making it difficult to speak.

  “He told you the truth?”

  “Nah. When he showed up on Wednesday, I told him I’d punch him if I ever saw him again. He left without a word. I think he’s been hiding in his new cabin. The producers moved him—they’ll push us pretty far, but they don’t want actual violence. I wish I’d thought to threaten him on Day One, then had Ed swap rooms with you. None of this would’ve happened.”

  My mouth fell open. “Then how do you know I didn’t cheat on you?”

  “It’s Saturday,” he said, as if that explained everything.

  “And on Saturdays, you have more faith in me than other days?”

  A ghost of a smile crossed his lips, but it faded almost as if it never existed. “It was never about faith in you. I let my own insecurities take over when I saw that picture. I’m an ass. I’m so sorry for doubting you.”

  His three-sixty spun my head a little. The part of me that had taken a real beating this week spoke up in my brain. What was going on? Had the Network set up this conversation? I hadn’t forgotten I still owed Leanna a showdown with Ariana, and she most likely
hadn’t, either. She was definitely evil enough to send Justin in to shake things up when I didn’t confront Ariana right away.

  But then my optimistic side took over: No, he wouldn’t set me up, no matter what the Network promised. No matter what happened between us, we still had real history, real emotions. This was my Justin, apologizing because he loved me. I trusted him.

  “Thank you. You’re not an ass. I know how easy it is to jump to conclusions. But what does Saturday have to do with anything?”

  Justin said, “The bar results were posted online yesterday. With everything that happened, I forgot to check, but this morning, I convinced the producers to give me fifteen minutes of internet time so I could look up my results.”

  “Oh, yeah! How’d you do?” Not for a second did I doubt he’d done well, but I didn’t want to steal the thunder of his announcement by saying it first.

  He broke into a real smile, and his entire face lit up. My heart lurched. He hadn’t looked at me like that since we left the Bahamas. “I passed!”

  “That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you!”

  Without thinking, I jumped up to kiss him, celebrating in the way we would’ve under normal circumstances. His stiffened when my lips hit his, which reminded me we still had a lot to talk about before falling into our old habits. Still, when I pulled back, the air between us crackled. I flushed, looking at the ground before settling onto the couch again.

  “Did you get to talk to Sarah? How’s your mom?”

  “They’re both fine. I let them know you were worried about them.”

  “Thanks. Did you . . . ?” I didn’t even know how to finish that sentence, so I didn’t bother. Did you tell them you dumped me? Did you tell them how much this cruise sucks? Did you tell them you’re in love with Ariana now?

  “Calls cost like three dollars a minute. I asked how Mom was doing and sent your love. They don’t need to know anything else before the show airs,” he said. “But that’s not the point. I also got emails from Google Voice with all your texts, and I found a message from Ty.”

  “The guy who ferried us over from Jamaica?”

  “Yeah. He told me Dominic kissed you out of nowhere, and you smacked the hell out of him for doing it.” He raked one hand through his hair, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry. I never should’ve doubted you. I’ve been so nervous about all the other stuff, I let my insecurities make me act like an asshole.”

  “You weren’t the only one with insecurities,” I said. “Nor were you the only one who acted like an asshole. I should’ve stayed, charged past Ariana into your room, and let you explain before jumping to conclusions.”

  “Yes, you should have. You know me better than that, Jen.”

  “I’m so sorry. She does this to me every time. When she’s nearby, my internal doubt monster takes over.”

  “Don’t let it. You have nothing to worry about. I spent that whole night worrying that you’d been injured, that you were trapped in Jamaica, planning to get off the ship in the Caymans and go find you.”

  The love in his eyes made me feel even worse for not trusting him. All I wanted was to be worthy of the way he felt about me. Still, I had to know. “I shouldn’t have blamed you for thinking something happened with Dominic. Especially after you saw the picture. But why was Ariana in your room when I showed up the next morning?”

  “She came in looking for Dominic while I was in the shower. He must’ve given her his key card. And she was in a robe because they’d booked a couples massage at the spa.” He met my gaze squarely. His face wore an open, expression. “I swear, she couldn’t have been in the room more than two minutes before you knocked. She was about to leave. It was crappy timing.”

  Maybe love turned me into a fool, but I believed him. “Why didn’t you come after me?”

  “Because I’m a dumbass. I was mad at you for going off with Dominic, especially when you didn’t come back to the ship after the excursion. And then when I saw that picture . . .” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I screwed up. I should’ve thrown myself into the water back in Jamaica to be with you. Once I knew you were back onboard, I should’ve gone tearing after you, made sure you were okay, and kissed every inch of your body.”

  His words warmed my heart, made me want to jump into his lap right there in the casino. but I kept my response light. “In front of Rachel? That might have been overkill.”

  He chuckled. “She could’ve left. Can you ever forgive me? I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  This time, when I leaned in, he met me halfway. He reached up with one hand to cup my face, and before I knew what happened, I found myself in his lap, putting every ounce of emotion into the kiss. His lips parted beneath mine, and a low moan escaped me. I’d missed him so much. His hands moved down to my hips, and I ran my fingers through the blond hair at the nape of his neck. Feeling him shift beneath me, hearing him, touching him, left no further doubt about the depth of our emotions.

  Lights flashed around us: tourists, probably, but I didn’t care. All that mattered was Justin. Not just “Jen and Justin,” the couple, but Justin, the man, who loved me and trusted me and made me feel things I never imagined, inside and out.

  Finally, I pulled back, resting my forehead against his. “I’m so sorry. This trip has been a nightmare.”

  “It’s not your fault,” he said.

  “True. I guess we should’ve known the Network would throw some curveballs at us.”

  “You don’t think they were behind all this?”

  I shrugged. “Reality TV’s about drama, right? We’ve got plenty of that. Inviting the two of us plus Ariana wasn’t a coincidence, and I bet they drooled at the thought of adding Dominic. From the moment Danielle showed up, I knew the Network was up to something. Imagine how much worse it could’ve been if she hadn’t refused to play along. I’m glad she’s just here to get a tan and relax.”

  “And we let them feed on our insecurities.”

  “Yup.”

  “We’re so stupid,” Justin said.

  “I think listing us as one person for everything was intentional. They saw the first day how surprised you were that all the pictures to sign were of both of us. Trying to make us share a chair during the bake-off wasn’t an accident. They were poking the sleeping tiger. They don’t care about us or our relationship, and why would they?”

  “Well, luckily, I do. Let’s make a pact, never to let television or D-list fame, or any of this crap come between us again. We’re a team. We might be Jen and Justin, but only you and I get to decide what that means for us.”

  I nuzzled against him. It felt so good to melt into his arms. “Right now, what do you say being Team Jen and Justin means I kick Rachel out of our room for about an hour?”

  “I’ve got a better idea.” He pulled a key card out of his pocket. “I booked a balcony suite for the night.”

  “Oh yeah? Cocky, aren’t we?” My playful tone took the bite out of my words.

  “Not cocky, hopeful. I planned to use all of my lawyerly negotiation skills, plus some groveling.” He kissed me again. “Lots of groveling.”

  “I’m sorry I missed that.”

  “Don’t be. I’m not pretty when I cry.” He held the card out to me. “What do you say? King-sized bed. Private ocean view. Care to join me?”

  “Nothing in the world could make me happier right now.”

  Chapter 20

  The Queen Kelly’s Voice

  Our Final Day at Sea

  Saturday edition

  Well, it’s been a wonderful week for the cast of Real Ocean: Caribbean, but we’re afraid it’s time to head on back to the good ol’ U.S. of A. The ship will dock at 10:00 PM, with disembarkation beginning first thing in the morning. Passengers who have flights scheduled prior to 11:00 AM should contact the purser’s desk as soon as possible to ensure early disembarkation. See inside for more information and to find out your scheduled meeting time.

  Meanwhile, we’ve got a fu
ll day of activities to ensure your final day at sea is every bit as enjoyable as the rest of this week.

  Meet The Fishbowl’s Rachel up on the Lido Deck at 10:00 AM for a poolside calf-roping demonstration. Then head down to the rear deck at 11:00, where her co-star Ed will give a mixology lecture before lunch.

  The casino closes for the rest of the voyage at 6:00 PM, so this is your last chance to test your luck against Totally ’80s Bake-off winner Tammy Rae. She’ll be playing heads-up Texas Hold ’em with the fans all day.

  After dinner, join us up on the Lido Deck to watch The Fishbowl’s Ariana Sassani star in Killer Octopuses from Outer Space 2. Stick around after the show while America’s favorite brunette answers questions and signs autographs. Don’t forget to pick up posters and other promotional items in the gift shop.

  Inside this Edition:

  Full schedule of onboard events 2-3

  Ship’s Map 4-5

  Disembarkation Procedures, U.S citizens 6

  Disembarkation Procedures, non-citizens 7

  Meet the producers of Real Ocean: Caribbean 8

  Going through Customs 9

  Justin and I spent the remainder of the evening exploring each other. We talked and laughed and drank wine and made love before falling asleep in each other’s arms. What a perfect day. We spent the entire next morning in bed, indulging in room service—and each other. Finally, we got to experience the perfect cruise we would’ve been having all along, if Ariana and Dominic hadn’t interfered.

  Contented and happy, I snuggled up against Justin after lunch, and his heartbeat lulled me to sleep.

  Slanted rays peeked through the slats of the blinds when I woke again. Beside me, I found sheets cool to the touch and a note from Justin that he’d gone to the gym, but he’d see me in time for dinner. Signed with a heart. I held it to my lips with a smile. Finally, things were moving in the right direction. When we got home, we could go back to the way we were, stronger than ever. Not to give Ariana too much credit, but her efforts to drive us apart brought us closer together. I was doubly grateful to Madison for giving me her recipe now that I’d be able to use it.