When Love Goes Bad

by AnonYMous

  Tina, you’ve come a long way, I congratulated myself. Was I really perched on a stool in the ship’s salon, calling out numbers for a bunch of gray hairs as we slowly moved toward Aruba?

  That first day was a day at sea, which meant that we didn’t go ashore. The break gave passengers a chance to recoup and get ready for shore excursions. Everyone spent the day wandering the ship, from the top deck with the pool and Caribbean bars that played steel string music to the beauty salon that offered everything from manicures to massages.

  You could kind of tell who were newly weds. They couldn’t keep their eyes or hands off each other. Then there were the older people who’d worked hard so that they could have people like me and Randu cater to their every need.

  Well, it was okay by me.

  My work usually took me to the decks where I could look out over the oceans where the sun glittered on the water. The temperature hovered at about 85. A little humid but I was willing to make some sacrifices.

  How sweet it is. I smiled when I thought of my family and friends huddled in their woolen coats back home, digging their cars out of the snow drifts. Yep, this was the life.

  The first afternoon I went with Yvette, the Activities director, to the main theater where she told eager passengers about where to shop for jewelry or china. We even had coupons and maps.

  The passengers lapped it up. Women clutched their handbags as if they couldn’t while husbands looked worried, with good reason. Well, they could shop all they wanted. I had time off the next day. Not a whole lot happened on board while we were in port. The casino couldn’t be open so even those die-hards had to find something else to do. First stop, Aruba. I had time off and was headed for the beach.

  “Coming to the lounge tonight?” Idalia asked when I passed her on the Promenade Deck in later afternoon. “Party time.” Then she paused.

  “And I think you have a new admirer.” She wiggled her eyebrows while I blushed and excitement made me tingle.

  That night I dressed in a daring strapless sundress. Soon I hoped its sky blue would be set off against my tan, but it still did a lot for me.

  As I strolled into the crew lounge, it was nice to be able to recognize some of the people. Idalia grabbed me and introduced me to Frieda, George, Robert and Imelda. Most were among the wait staff but Imelda was part of the Activities staff with me and so was George.

  By that time, I knew that the kids like Idalia and Frieda worked hard and sent money home. Not exactly my plan, but I had to admire them. I was glad that my folks were doing okay and I didn’t have to worry about them being thrown out of the hut into the streets with the wild dogs if my envelope didn’t get home in time. Kind of made me appreciate old Belmont Avenue.

  Even though I’d come to mingle, I was on the lookout. That extra time with my hair and makeup had a purpose in mind. I could feel him behind me before I even saw Jack. Didn’t have to see the pony tail or the dark T-shirt stretched across broad shoulders to know it was the King of Swing, as some of the kids called him.

  “So what are your plans for tomorrow, little one?” He bent low and whispered in my ear in an island cadence that made me smile. He got a kick out of talking like some of the kids.

  I casually laid my glass against my neck to cool the heat that was starting to rise. “Heading for the beach.”

  Jack regarded me from hooded eyes. “Do you know where you’re going?” He reached up and squeezed the back of my neck gently, something that would have irritated me with anyone else but him. “It’s not as if this boat just docks at the beach, if you know what I mean.”

  I blushed. Did it look as if I’d just fallen off a turnip truck?

  My chin went up. “I’m sure I’ll find my way.”

  He grinned. “I have some time off tomorrow. Maybe I should be your guide.”

  “Thanks but I don’t think I need a baby-sitter.” The heat was rising from my stomach to my neck and my ice cubes were melting in my glass pressed against my skin.

  Jack’s smile broadened. “Not exactly what I had in mind. Meet me below at 8:30.”

  Hmm, maybe this was the Love Boat, I thought to myself as I slipped between the sheets that night. Excitement swirled in my stomach.

  I didn’t know then what price I would have to pay for playing this game.

  The next day I had my ship’s towel neatly tucked in my beach bag along with sun block and a magazine. I slipped a big T-shirt and cut-offs over my purple bikini.

  Dressed in a dark T-shirt and khaki shorts, Jack wore a straw hat cocked to one side of his head. He looked doubly mysterious and dangerous.

  “Ready?” he said as we filed out, following a trail of guests and a smattering of staff.

  “Yep.” Boy, was I ready. The day blazed beautiful. I couldn’t get enough of the sun, the water. We were docked at Orangestad and we headed down the main street to the bus lot, marked by a turquoise and yellow canopy. The bus was filled with workers going out to the hotels for the day to work. Jack slid into the seat next to me and casually draped his arm around my shoulder. Excitement throbbed in my throat. Was this really me, sitting here next to a gorgeous man and heading out for a day on an exotic beach?

  The bus rode down dry and dusty roads past houses that sat with chipped paint and open windows in the hot sun. There was another side to Aruba, but I pushed serious thoughts aside.

  When we got to the beach, Jack grabbed a couple of beach chairs stacked in front of a hotel. I wasted no time in shedding my clothes and splashing into that cool blue water. It was so hot and the water was a welcome relief.

  Jack dove under water and when he came up, his hair was flattened against his head and dripped from the tail in the back. The water clung to eye lashes so long any girl would have killed for them, but his square chin left no questions about his masculinity.

  Yep, Jack was all man. He was a keeper.

  I don’t know how long we played in the water, splashing each other an swimming side by side to the buoys and back.

  The sand blazed against the soles of my feet as we raced back to the chairs. We both stretched out to let the sun dry the water beaded on our bodies.

  That day will always stay in my memory as the perfect day. The sun, the water cool water against my skin and Jack. Oh, yes, Jack.

  I brought out my sunblock.

  “You know you can sun topless here on these beaches,” Jack said casually.

  “You can?” I looked around. There were some women without tops, even older women who didn’t seem at all uncomfortable. I smiled as I imagined my mother passing out into her mashed potatoes if she ever saw this.

  “Independent women are so attractive. They make their own rules,” Jack said. His words rang in my ears like a challenge.

  Wasn’t that why I’d come to work on this cruise ship? To be independent? The women stretching their bare bodies to the sun seemed forbidden and enticing. What could be more exciting, more free?

  In two seconds flat, my top was off and I tucked it casually into my bag.

  Jack lowered his sunglasses. His glance was warmer than the sun. “Want some help with that suntan oil?”

  I pretended to ignore him as I squirted the block into my hand and began to spread it over my stomach, and above, keeping my eyes on the blue sea. “Think I can handle it.” I said. Then I blushed at my choice of words.

  Jack leaned closer and his lips melted against one shoulder. “Well, the offer’s open if you ever change your mind.”

  “Didn’t you bring something to read?” I asked, twisting out of his reach and ignoring my fluttering stomach. Jack just grinned and lay back, his dark glasses hiding his eyes.

  Well, I snapped my magazine open but I was pumped and could hardly read. I felt dangerously wicked and it felt good. After a while, Jack left to get some Bloody Mary’s and I surveyed the beach. Yep, this was living all right.

  By the time Jack and I boarded the bus to go back to the ship, I was feeling pretty mellow. Jack started nuzzling my neck on the
bus and I leaned into him. My skin was warm and so was his. “Hey, does this go with the job description?” I teased, glad my breasts were safely under my T-shirt.

  “You bet. Aren’t you the activities assistant? Well, I’m up for a little activity, if you know what I mean.” Jack chuckled and my imagination swooped off on a roller coaster ride.

  When we got inside the ship he walked me to my cabin and when I went to slide my card into the lock, he turned me around, tipped my chin up and landed one of those rock-your-world kisses on me.

  When my eyes were still closed and I was savoring the feel of his lips, he whispered, “See you later. Today was great.”

  Great? It was more than just great. My feet weren’t even touching the ground.

  Satisfaction settled over the ship that night. Side trips were available and a lot of folks had taken a jeep tour of the island or had gone snorkeling in one of the bays. Now they filled the dining rooms to sample pineapple glazed chicken and wild rice. Conversations centered on the next stop.

  But I was still thinking about that magical day. And Jack.

  We had a sock hop in the Sea Horse Lounge and Yvette had issued poodle skirts and shell pink sweaters. Ranku had left earlier for her position in the main restaurant. I’d been a chattering magpie when she was dressing.

  “The beaches were topless,” I confessed, still high on my bravery.

  She nodded as she buttoned her black vest over her pristine white blouse. “It is always wise to take care,” she said, her big brown eyes serious as she opened the door to leave.

  “Oh, I put on sunblock,” I said, pulling on my bobby socks.

  “I am not talking about the sun, Tina.” Then the door closed behind her and I was left to wonder what the heck she meant.

  Or maybe I just didn’t want to understand what she was saying.

  The Sea Horse Lounge was crowded with Baby Boomers that night. They obediently shed their shoes and crowded onto the polished wooden dance floor. It was kind of cute. Some of the guys really knew how to jitter bug and twirled their wives like tops until they were all laughing so hard they could hardly dance.

  Jack held court, playing the 60s music and adding his quick barbs about music and the dancers. Tunes like “Barbara Ann” and “Surfing Safari” kept everyone on the floor. The waitresses took orders for tall colorful drinks with wedges of pineapple clinging to the lips of the glasses.

  I clapped and danced with the other Activities assistants, keeping the pace going.

  “The moment you’ve all been waiting for has arrived,” Jack announced at about ten o’clock, hitting a switch on the console that sent out a drum roll. “Time for the hoola hoop contest! This is where our lovely assistants show us how the hoops can spin and then you get to take a crack at it. Ready?”

  Imelda, Fran and I took up stations in the center of the floor, our hoola hoops held waist high. Chubby Checkers came on and we were off.

  Imelda’s hoop clattered to the floor almost immediately but she just laughed, picked it up and stepped to the side. Fran and I whirled until Jack call out, “Now, ladies. Your turn. Who wants to try?”

  Four women timidly raised their hands with encouragement from their husbands. We led them to the floor and handed them the hoops while the crowd cheered them.

  It was such fun. The laughter, the jokes. And Jack. Yep, I mean, I tried not to stare, but I knew other women were. A women’s baseball team from Wisconsin was seated at the edge of the dance floor and they were tossing back bottles of beer and calling out names of songs while Jack egged them on.

  Good thing my exhaustion outweighed my excitement that night or I wouldn’t have gotten any sleep.

  The following day we docked again, but I was in charge of the Game Room, so I couldn’t go ashore. I didn’t see Jack and had no clue about his plans. Some of the older passengers didn’t have any interest in shopping or beaching it. They came on the cruise to be pampered, eat well and to play bingo and chess with their friends.

  My job was to keep them set up with their boards, explain the library to them, that kind of thing. Oh, my eyes would stray to the portholes. The sun danced across the water in a clear blue sky. Even though the ship was air conditioned, I managed to slip onto a deck once in a while to drink in the sun and sea breeze.

  I wondered if Jack had the day off too. I’d been a little disappointed when he hadn’t tried to get some time alone with me last night. There’d been some opportunities. But I knew he had a job to do, and entertaining people was his job. That was my job too but I admit, those first couple of weeks, I acted more like a guest than an employee.

  The following afternoon there was a surfing party at the pool on the top deck and some of us had been assigned to that group. Tough duty, let me tell you. There we were in the sun, breeze in our hair, sun on our shoulders as we steamed toward the next port. The group at the pool was a lot younger than in the Game Room and included the baseball team and a couple of company groups that had won this trip as a bonus for their sales.

  I danced away like a crazed fool in my bikini, hoping that everything was staying in place. Had that really been me a couple of days ago, throwing caution to the winds? That same sense of reckless freedom came back to me.

  When I felt Jack’s eyes on me, I gave my hips a little extra twitch.

  Pretty soon the guests got into the action and started dancing and having a great time, which was the whole idea. All those fruity rum drinks that the bar was serving up helped. We danced around the deck while the music blared, steel strings and all, with Jack cutting in with his comments every so often.

  I’d bought long glittery earrings at the Gift Shop to match my purple bikini, and they danced against my neck. Once Jack passed by on a break and he bent to brush his lips across the back of my neck, so fast that it almost could have been accident. Only I knew it wasn’t and his lips sent a chill shivering down my spine.

  “You look good enough to eat, baby cakes,” he whispered.

  Now if Fred had ever said anything like that to me, I would have laughed hysterically. With Jack, it sent my stomach into slow loops.

  We were doing another sock hop that night but I had an hour or so before and Yvette had stationed three of us in the Starlight Theater to help people find seats. Every night our dance troupe gave two shows.

  Wow, I was impressed. Now the dancers and the entertainment crew weren’t in the same class with us. No sir. Most of them had single rooms and they could lounge in the coffee bars during the day, just like the guests.

  No wonder, I thought as I watched them whirl through a dazzling show. A couple from Poland, Ivan and Svetlana, danced together, their blue and green costumes of satin and sequins fitting them like a glove.

  At one point he picked her up and draped her over his shoulder. How they kept their balance, I’ll never know. They were beautiful. Svetlana was a cool blonde without an ounce of fat on her. She moved like a queen and Ivan was her king all right, with strong chiseled features.

  Not as good looking as Jack, but the boy had his strong points.

  After the show I dashed back to my cabin to change clothes and headed to the fourth floor deck Sky Walker Lounge. Jack was already there, hair slicked back and a pack of cigarettes twisted into his T-shirt sleeve. He wore tight jeans and boots—a real James Dean look, except for the pony tail pulled to the back.

  This was oldies night and saxophone music filled the lounge. Yvette had outfitted us in party dresses from the fifties. The netting scratched my skin. I was still burned from the day before. But I knew the sky blue looked good against my tan and wasn’t too bad with my blonde hair either.

  “’Unforgettable,’ that’s a favorite, isn’t it?” Jack asked the crowd. Women began pulling their husbands on to the dance floor as Nat King Cole’s voice mellowed out onto the floor.

  Jack slipped off the stage and came to where I was standing against one of the poles. He began humming the tune in my ear and his breath was hot on my neck. “You are unforgettab
le, you know that, babe? What are you doing later?”

  “How much later?” These days were long. My back hurt from these heels and I was ready for bed.

  But then again. . .

  “Maybe a quiet drink?”

  “At the staff party?” I asked.

  “Too noisy. Private bar, babe.” And he gave me his room number.

  Well, I could hardly concentrate after that. Seemed like it went on forever. Why didn’t these people pack it in and go back to their rooms? Didn’t they realize I had serious business to take care of?

  Finally, just after midnight, the last couple trailed out of the lounge. Jack snapped off the lights.

  “Coming down to the party?” Imelda asked.

  I yawned. “Not tonight. I’m beat,” I said, trying to hide the excitement in my voice.

  Jack had already left so I made my way to the staircase and took it down to one level above my room. Checking the numbers, I eventually found his number and knocked.

  The door swung open and I stepped into a room with mellow lighting that cast a magic glow which seemed to transform his room. Or maybe that’s just where I was that night.

  “Glad you could make it.” Jack pulled me into his arms, kicking the door shut with his heel. His kiss was deep and hungry and my head began to spin. When his lips traveled down my neck, I shivered.

  “How about that drink?” I asked, trying to catch my breath.

  “Later,” Jack said, nudging the dress off my shoulders.

  Well, after all, I thought dizzily, it’s not as if he hasn’t seen most of this before on the beach.

  But Jack wanted to do a lot more than look that night. His hands went where ever his mouth couldn’t reach. And his mouth was covering a lot of territory.

  Well, I wish I could say I kept calm and cool. Wish I could say I kept my head.

  But I wasn’t and I didn’t. Instead I figured this was one of the reasons I’d come, to get away from Fred’s half hearted love-making. At least, that’s how I saw it.

  Pretty soon, the dress was on the floor and I was in the bed. I lost track of time.