Bellamy's Redemption

by Holly Tierney-Bedord

  “Hello, ladies,” said Catalina Cartwright. We all clapped. Deb sucked in her stomach a second too late. It was the first time we’d seen Catalina since we’d arrived in Italy. “Please join me in the lounge,” she said. She was wearing a long orange dress with a matching mask that she held on a tiny stick at the side of her face. We followed her into a dark interior room filled with candles and mirrors. The room was breathtakingly beautiful. We oohed and ahhed appreciatively.

  “The theme for tonight’s cocktail party will be Masquerade Ball,” said Catalina. “You will all get to wear vintage gowns and masks, and you’ll each get the opportunity to spend plenty of one-on-one time with Bellamy. But first, there will be a casual lunch cruise with Bellamy, so get ready. He will be here in about an hour.”

  “Me too?” asked Klassie.

  “Yes, all of you,” said Catalina.

  “No fair,” said Deb, since Klassie had just spent all morning with Bellamy. “Just kidding,” she added. “I forgive you.”

  We all ran off to get ready, trying our best to interpret what attire was most suited for a casual Venetian lunch cruise. Or, as Deb kept accidentally calling it, our Vietnamese boat ride. When we rejoined one another down in the lounge, we discovered that we all had very different ideas of what made a casual outfit. Klassie had on the same outfit she’d worn to brunch, but she had switched her skates for tall combat boots.

  “Do you think these are good enough?” she asked me. “This is how I look in real life, and I want him to know the real me.”

  “In that case I think they’re perfect,” I said. I really did mean it. I suppose the other girls thought I was trying to sabotage her.

  Deb was wearing maroon silk overalls with a lace shirt underneath. It was possibly the worst outfit I’d ever seen.

  “I love these overalls,” she told us. “They’re from Dress Barn. Or no, maybe not. Does Dress Barn sell clothes that aren’t dresses? Gosh, I can’t remember. I normally wear them for church concerts and stuff like that. Only then, in that case, I wear a turtleneck underneath instead of this lace top. You wouldn’t probably guess this since most of them are carnival folk, but my family is very conservative and shy. We’re not your usual carnival people. We’re part of a Christian gambling and carnival ring.”

  “It sounds like the best of all worlds,” said Klassie.

  “It is. We have some unique ways about us. But back to my outfit, I’ve had it for years. It’s just, you know, my very favorite. It has to be dry-cleaned. So, as much as I said I would share anything I brought with all of you, please, please don’t ask to borrow these.”

  “We won’t,” said Alanna, who had on jeans, heals, and a perfectly ragged t-shirt. She had painted her fingernails black and almost seemed edgy. Of course, she looked accidentally perfect. To prove how much she didn’t care, she was reading a yellowed copy of some vintage paperback with the cover torn off, her leg casually slung over the arm of the fancy chair she was sitting on.

  I was wearing an off the shoulder mini-dress, pacing since the dress would crease if I sat down. I was wishing I had worn jeans as well.

  Catalina reappeared, now dressed in a long, peach strapless gown. Her hair was slicked back and her lips were the exact same color as her face. Her eye makeup was severe. She looked so famous. “Where are Vanessa and Jessica?” she asked.

  “They’ll be here soon,” said Klassie. “Vanessa was helping Jessica with her makeup.”

  “Here they come now,” said Alanna. She tried to hide her distaste over their outfits, but I saw her nose wrinkle a little at the site of them. Jessica had on cropped sweat pants, a half-shirt that said U.S.A. and red, white, and blue sparkly heels. Her left hand had red fingernails. Her right hand had blue. She was blowing on them; apparently they were still wet. Vanessa was wearing a palm tree print maxi dress with a scraggly shawl. Her hair was pulled back in a bun. Flip-flops were on her feet.

  “I’m being ironic,” said Jessica.

  Vanessa pressed a heating pad to her stomach, wincing. “I’m not, y’all. I’m dead serious. I have my period and I feel like hell. Pardon my Yankee-mouth. I’m totally bloated. I feel like Deb looks today. Somebody shoot me.”

  “So I am fat,” said Deb.

  “Thirty minutes ago you were in your bikini, looking skinny,” I said to Vanessa. “What happened?”

  “It just hit me. Like a ton of bricks. Like a truck. Sweet Jesus, do we really have to do this? I’d like to sit this out.”

  “Me too,” said Alanna. “I’m so jetlagged. Let’s stop filming today. Please.”

  “I hate to say it,” said Catalina Cartwright, “but in all my years of hosting these shows, you are the sorriest looking bunch I’ve ever seen. We’re in Italy. They care about style over here. You ladies are not representing yourselves or the show very well.”

  “Are you teasing us?” asked Deb, looking down at the overalls she’d just been bragging about.

  “I’m perfectly serious,” said Catalina.

  “We’ll be changing into those vintage evening gowns you told us about after our river cruise is over,” said Klassie. “Maybe you can focus on getting some good footage then.”

  “It’s not some river cruise,” said Catalina. “It’s a voyage down the Grand Canal. Furthermore, on behalf of the entire Bellamy’s Redemption staff, we would all appreciate if you ladies would stop giving us editorial advice. We will host, film, and edit the show as we all see fit. Now, are any of you going to change into something else, or should we go?”

  We stood around yawning and wishing we had phones to check, avoiding eye contact with her. I suppose we all thought she was talking about anyone but us.

  “I’m going to stay in my overalls, if you don’t mind,” Deb finally said, very softly.

  “Unreal!” Catalina exclaimed. She marched outside in a huff and we followed her since we guessed it was what we were supposed to do. “Stand here,” she said pointing at a big urn of greenery, “and try to look excited when Bellamy arrives.”

  “I won’t have to try,” said Deb.

  A moment later a gondola came into sight. Perched high in the middle of the back of it was Bellamy. He had a little hat upon his head and he was wearing a striped shirt. He waved nervously at us.

  “Look at him,” said Deb. “Look at him on that long skinny boat. Is that Bellamy or some Italian guy? Oh, I can tell now. It’s Bellamy. Hi, Bellamy!” she yelled.

  “Hi girls,” he said, drifting up to us. Some Italians and camera guys helped get the gondola near us, and helped each of us get in. Bellamy was covered in sweat. A real gondola driver took over and Bellamy settled in between Alanna and me. “I can’t believe I didn’t tip it over. I can barely swim,” he whispered to me, raising his eyebrows. I gave his arm a squeeze.

  “Why are you whispering to her?” asked Alanna. “Maybe you’d rather if the rest of us weren’t even here? That’s how you’re making us feel. We’re all your guests.”

  “Sorry, Alanna,” he said. Instantly a look overcame him like he’d been punched him in the gut. “It’s great to see all of you,” he added, pulling away from me.

  The gondola was held in place while Catalina presented her little spiel from shore: “Bellamy, you looked like a real pro out there.” Her voice was crisp and flirtatious and her smile was radiant. She smirked cutely into the camera. “You’re giving these Italian stallions a run for their money! One of these lovely women, just six left, will be Bellamy’s fiancé soon! I’m not sure who it’s going to be, but I do know that she’s going to be one lucky lady! It’s all so exciting! I suppose I’d better let you go on your cruise of Venice’s famous Grand Canal now. Have fun!” She waved as we were let loose and we began to drift a little. Then she took a few steps up a little stone bridge and waved as we floating underneath it and emerged on the other side. She tossed some rose petals on our heads and laughed delightedly.

  “Ugh,” said Alanna, brushing a petal from her hair.

  “And they’re off! Off t
o find love!” Catalina exclaimed. She immediately slumped and applied a heavy coat of Chapstick once the cameras cut away from her.

  “So here we are,” said Bellamy as we floated along.

  “Here we are,” said Deb, nudging him with her toe.

  “This afternoon is going to be really great,” said Bellamy. “We will take in the Venice scenery, and then we’re going to stop for a special lunch. There are just six of you left, and this is getting really serious. I’m going to make a point to spend some one-on-one time with each and every one of you today. This is your chance to show me you care, too.”

  “What happened with Tamika? Why did you send her home?” asked Deb.

  “Oh, um, I wasn’t sure if we had a connection…” Bellamy scratched his neck, looking uncomfortable about being put on the spot.

  “Who cares?” said Jessica. “One more down, five to go, right Bel?”

  “Bell?” asked Bellamy.

  “Can we go to that island where they make glass trinkets? I want some glass trinkets,” said Vanessa.

  “I don’t think they have islands here. We’re pretty far from Hawaii and other tropical places right now,” said Bellamy.

  “He’s right,” said Deb.

  “Sweetie, you wouldn’t mind if I took a little nap, would you?” asked Alanna, curling up into a little ball and putting her head on Bellamy’s lap. A moment later she was snoring softly. Bellamy played with her hair absentmindedly the way someone might pet a cat.

  “I hope the guy driving this boat sings the Hamburger Helper song,” said Deb. “Remember that song, from when we were little kids and the Hamburger Helper glove guy was in a boat just like this? Does anyone know what I’m talking about? I wonder if our guy will sing it.” Then she broke into song: “Oh Mama Mia, For your Fam-i-lee-a…”

  “Bellamy, I’m not hungry yet,” said Klassie. “Could they loop around and drop me at the hotel so I can look at that book in the lobby?”

  “What book?” asked Vanessa.

  “I forget what you call it. It’s full of puzzles that look like little charts.”

  “A Sudoku puzzle book?” asked Bellamy. “You want to leave this tour of the Grand Canal to do puzzles?”

  “No, I guess not,” said Klassie.

  “I hope not. I just sent Tamika home, but if you don’t want to be here I could probably still catch her before her plane leaves.”

  “Geez Louise. Sorry,” said Klassie. She double knotted the ratty shoelaces in her combat boots with an aggressive yank. One lone tear slipped down her cheek. We all sat there silently bobbing along.

  “Is that anything important?” asked Jessica as we approached the Rialto Bridge.

  “Just some bridge,” muttered Bellamy.

  “I love ferrets,” said Deb.

  “Here we are,” said Bellamy as our Gondola veered off into a small canal. He poked Alanna’s shoulder and she sat up looking unrumpled and perfectly composed.

  “I feel a hundred percent myself again,” she declared, stretching exaggeratedly until her stomach was exposed and she had knocked the rings on her hand against Deb’s head. “Sorry I was a crab earlier,” she added quietly just for Bellamy’s sake, looking at him from beneath her long lashes.

  “It’s okay. You’re never a crab,” he said, giving her a little kiss on the forehead. He blushed over the thrill of it. I could practically see his heart pounding right out of his chest. His face was all glowy and cloyingly adoring. I could tell he was going to pick her, no matter what any of the other girls did. “Okay, ladies,” he said, trying to get back down to business. “It’s just down the street from here.”

  We got out and followed him down a winding passage to a small arch. It was so quaint and beautiful that I suddenly felt overwhelmed with loneliness. I wished I was with Pete. Or Betsy. Or Rachel. Or my mom and dad. Anyone would do. Anyone who knew me and loved me. But not these people. I hated to admit it to myself, but these people seemed like idiots. I actually thought for a moment I might start crying, but I pulled myself together when the distraction of a cameraman tripping on some cobblestones reminded me that this was all being filmed.

  Beyond the arch was a tiny courtyard with a festively set table. There were flowers, pretty glasses, white napkins. It looked like we were at someone’s wedding. There were place cards with each of our names. I took a seat between Vanessa and Alanna, while Bellamy sat at the head of the table. Alanna scooted her chair over even a little closer to Bellamy. On the other said were Deb, Jessica, and Klassie. I wasn’t thrilled to be across from Jessica; her table manners were appalling.

  “To six lovely ladies,” said Bellamy, rising from his chair and toasting us with a glass of champagne.

  “Where?” joked Jessica. “I don’t see any lovely ladies here!”

  We all toasted. Once Bellamy sat back down, Alanna reached over to him and brushed something imaginary off his arm.

  “Was there something on my arm?” he asked.

  “Not actually,” she said giggling. She leaned in for a kiss and the two of them made out for a full minute. Meanwhile a waiter brought a tray of pickled yellow and red peppers and cheeses to us.

  “What are those slimy strips?” asked Klassie. “Is that spicy fish?”

  “I’ll try some,” said Vanessa.

  “I’ll have some too,” I said, recognizing they were peppers.

  The waiter ignored Alanna and Bellamy and went away. I watched as Vanessa cut her peppers into bite size pieces and made Pinterest-worthy doodads of stacked cheese and pepper bits. She didn’t actually eat any of them.

  “Bellamy, tell us something about your family,” said Deb.

  “My family is great. My dad is my hero. My mom is great too. She stayed home with us kids and always made us a nice dinner. Every night. She even made dessert. She sewed our Halloween costumes too. A real Betty Crocket. I couldn’t have asked for better parents. I’d like to have a family just like that.”

  Hmm. I looked around the table to see if everyone else was onboard with Bellamy’s vision. No one’s face registered the panic I was feeling.

  “Great,” said Deb. “What else?”

  “That’s about it,” said Bellamy. He reached across the table. “Vanessa, do you mind if I eat your cheese?”

  “Go ahead,” she said.

  “Our next course is a belissimo fish soup,” said our waiter, kissing his fingers emphatically. He brought us each an overflowing bowl of the stuff.

  “This fish soup is delish goop,” said Klassie.

  “Mmm. God,” said Jessica, slurping away. It was running down her chin. “Ugh,” she moaned. She shook her head, grimacing. She rolled her shoulders, I guess to make more room in her stomach cavity. It was almost like she was in pain.

  “I know. I know! It’s so good. Right? I told you it was great. I need to loosen my boots to make more room,” said Klassie.

  “Please don’t,” said Vanessa.

  I looked down and stirred my soup. Tiny chunks of fish were hiding beneath the surface. When I stirred, they all appeared at once. The fishy smell made me want to gag. I imagined myself gagging and puking in front of everyone. The cameramen would all zoom in on me. It would be captured from four different angles. I would be mocked on late shows for a night or two, and then disowned by everyone I’d ever known.

  Calm down, said the voice in my head. It was all I could do to keep the words down, to keep them from slipping past my tongue and out into the world where everyone was watching.

  The urge to cry was coming on very, very strong. I took a sip of water and tried to think about things that weren’t sad. Things that meant nothing at all. A stack of paper bags. A bottle of mustard. A bookshelf. A rusty car. I couldn’t help it; the tears began pouring down my face.

  “Emma, what’s the matter?” asked Deb.

  “Nothing,” I said. “Could you excuse me?” I got up and started walking. I wasn’t sure where I was going. Of course a camera man was right by my side. I ignored him and just kept
walking.

  “Wait,” said Bellamy. I felt his hand on my shoulder.

  “I’m okay,” I said. “You can go back to them. I’m just going through something weird. I guess I’m a little homesick. I didn’t mean to ruin your dinner.”

  “You’re not ruining anything.”

  “You can go. I’m wasting your precious time. I don’t want to do that.”

  “You’re not wasting my time,” he said.

  “Thank you for coming to check on me,” I said.

  “Could you give us some space?” Bellamy said to the cameraman nearest us. There were two now. They both stepped back just a little.

  I stopped walking and sat down on a bench by the water. “Thanks for bringing us here. It’s beautiful.”

  “You’re welcome.” He sat down beside me and put his arm around me. I put my head on his shoulder and we sat like that for a while, watching gondolas go past. Across the way was a gelato stand. “Want some ice cream?” he asked me.

  “Sure,” I said. I dried my tears and we crossed a tiny bridge, coming out next to the gelato vendor.

  “What color do you want?” asked Bellamy.

  “They all look good,” I said.

  “Two pink ice creams. Do you have waffle cones? Never mind. Any cone is good,” said Bellamy. The woman at the stand shook her head at our lack of finesse. She handed us two tiny cups of gelato with mini plastic spoons stuck in each one.

  “This isn’t what I had in mind,” whispered Bellamy. He took a tiny taste with the itty bitty spoon, playing up its teensiness to be silly. I laughed a little.

  “Emma,” said Bellamy, “I know you’re having your doubts about whether you should be here, but I want you to know that I like having you here, and I think you should stay. We have so many fun adventures ahead of us. Would you stay for me?”