When Love Goes Bad

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When Love Goes Bad Page 24

by AnonYMous


  My silly grin must have alarmed Randu in the morning. “Are you all right?” she asked more than once.

  “Fine, fine,” I said, as I pulled on my shorts and top. We were coming into St. Thomas and Jack and I were going to cross over to St. John’s, rent a jeep and tour the island.

  This is the life, I thought as we motored across on one of the ferries and Jack made arrangements for the jeep. The breeze blew through my hair as we wound around the lush hills. Unlike some of the other islands that were dry and dusty, we were surrounded by greenery. Jack drove with his hand on my knee and every once in a while, his hand stroked higher, bringing back memories of last night that made me crazy. By the time we got to a beach, I needed to jump in the water just to cool off.

  Jack was the man of my dreams. I just knew it.

  That day we swam, napped and fed each other slices of watermelon and sipped frosty cans of beer. When juice dripped from my lips, Jack bent and kissed them.

  “You’re so beautiful, Tina.” he whispered after his hands had told me just what he thought of my body.

  “Oh, Jack, I love you,” I gasped.

  Well, he froze and I wanted to kick myself. What? I’d known this guy for four days and I was telling him that I loved him? I could picture the authors of “The Rules” passing out.

  But that day, on that beach, with beauty stretching as far as the eye could see and Jack kissing me and wanting me till I was half crazed, I felt with my whole heart that I loved him.

  “Just joking,” I said hastily with a small laugh. “Guess I got carried away.”

  Jack took a deep breath. “Thought you were serious, babe,” he said, rolling to his side of the blanket and stretching out with his hands behind his head.

  “Yeah, right. Fun is fun.” There are times when you want to eat your words. Instead I popped open another beer.

  Now, Jack’s reaction should have been a wake up call, not that most guys wouldn’t have run screaming from a woman who declared herself on the second or third date. But Jack’s reaction should have told me how it was. Maybe I wanted to stay clueless.

  When we got back to the ship, Jack guided me down a maze of corridors until he pushed open a door. The smell of fresh linens welcomed us. I giggled as he closed the door.

  “I’ve wanted you all day.” His voice was hoarse. Pretty soon my shorts were on the floor along with my bikini bottom. I forgot all about the rules.

  When Jack suggested that I come to his room later that night, after the limbo contest at the pool, which went on until all hours, of course I went. I loved Jack, even though he didn’t want to hear it. It would just be a matter of time, I told myself. He’d know that he loved me too. He had to. Didn’t he?

  By the end of that week, I felt like an old hand, in many ways. The guests left, suntanned and satisfied. Their suitcases bulged with tropical dresses, table linens and duty free perfumes. Tucked away in many suitcases were the pieces of jewelry described by a breathless Yvette in her seminars.

  “Aren’t you going ashore?” I asked Randu. She didn’t do much but work, from what I could see.

  “No, I have seen Puerto Rico,” she said with quiet smile. “I will stay here.” Maybe she had plans with Esteban, I thought

  Like Jack and me, I thought to myself. Pretty soon, everyone would be saying that about Jack and me. Yep, they’re a couple. They’ve “got plans.”

  Meanwhile, I’d bought a couple of cards and sent them off to Mom and Dad. Filled out one for Maria but decided not to write to Fred. After all, what would I say? Found the man of my dreams and you just don’t measure up?

  Although I hoped that Jack would come and suggest a wild excursion ashore that day, he didn’t. Yvette called a meeting for eleven o’clock and we went through the next week’s schedule. Seemed like I was out of training because I’d been given fewer games and more dances.

  That night as we sailed out for another week of the southern Caribbean, I was content. This was the most fun I’d ever had—and it was my job. I was going to bank a ton of cash. Food was great. Weather was fabulous.

  And my love life? Well, it was reckless and wilder than my wildest dreams. And my dreams had been pretty wild since I’d met Jack.

  After the lifeboat drill that night, I went to Jack’s room, expecting him to be there, waiting for me, even though he hadn’t said anything.

  But when I knocked on his door, he didn’t answer. “Jack?” I asked.

  One of the guys passed in the hall and turned. “The greeting party is tonight,” he said as if that explained everything.

  “Yes? So?” Why would Jack want to greet anyone when he could be making love to me?

  He raised his eyebrows. “Jack likes to be there, you know.”

  Well, duh. I’d forgotten that Jack was the disk jockey for that party. He must do it every week. So I went down to the staff lounge and there was Jack, looking hot and dishing out his wisecracks while he played the music.

  What a change from the week before. This time I knew people when I walked in the room. Idalia waved at me and I made my way over to her group. Because the ship was so huge, we had about one thousand workers on staff. Pretty mind boggling. Sure, I got to know some of them but others I could pass on the street and never realize they worked for my cruise ship.

  I got a drink and sipped it but Jack was on my mind and in my eyes. Every once in a while, he’d wink at me and a warm flush would work its way through me, just thinking about the magical things he’d do when we were alone later that night.

  Because Jack was magic, no doubt about that. That night when the music died down and they were turning off the lights, Jack made his way to my side. Pretty soon he was coaxing me into one of the darkened corridors where I giggled until he silenced my laughter with his hot passionate kisses. Didn’t take us long to find his room.

  The week unfolded pretty much like the one before. When we had time off, Jack and I took off for the beach. Gradually I became used to the topless thing. My breasts were becoming brown and Jack was very appreciative.

  On board, I was gaining in experience and now I was used more in the lounges for dancing demonstrations than in the Game Room, which was fine with me. So I swirled to the music in my poodle skirt or gyrated in my hula grasses. It was great.

  Sometimes I would sneak into the Starlight Theater to watch Ivan and Svetlana perform. Their act was hypnotizing. When they danced, they seemed to float above the floor. But Ivan had the strength to lift Svetlana above his head with her graceful form draped over one shoulder.

  It was pretty clear that they had a thing for each other. Couldn’t miss it. It was in their eyes, the way they touched each other. Gave me chills.

  “Are Ivan and Svetlana married?” I asked Randu one night.

  “Married? No.” She paused. “Svetlana has, um, dated other men. They are in the process of, what do you call it, deciding if they want to be together.”

  I was shocked. “Oh, but they wouldn’t break up the act, would they?”

  Randu studied the quilt that covered her bed. “Well, time will tell.”

  “What about you and Esteban?” I asked.

  Randu blushed. She really was beautiful in a very delicate way, like one of those statues you could buy on shore at the finest jewelers.

  “We hope to have a restaurant one day,” she confided. “In America.” Her brown eyes gleamed. “Then we will both bring our families over. It will be so wonderful.”

  “Will your family mind that Esteban isn’t from your own country?” I’d heard that some of these foreign countries liked people to marry their own.

  Her face clouded. “I hope that they will be very happy that he is helping to bring them this dream.”

  Guess I felt like confiding that night. Usually we never talked about anything that really mattered. “Just like Jack and me,” I said. “We have plans too.” The plans were all in my head, but I didn’t mention that.

  She looked away. “Maybe it is time to turn out the light now
.”

  What was with her mood changes? “Sure, okay. Good night.”

  As she reached for the switch, Randu turned toward me, her eyes dark with worry. “Be careful, Tina. You have just come. Sometimes it is best to watch and see. Get to know people.” Then she bit her lip as if she’d said too much.

  “I think I can handle it.” I cut her off and slunk down under my covers. Guess I was just hurt by her attitude. I wanted her to feel happy for me.

  I whirled through the days. Frankly, sometimes I hardly knew what I was doing. I mean I was in lah, lah land in those times, just waiting for a chance to slip away to Jack’s room. Or he would surprise me in a quiet corridor and pull me into some dark corner or nook where we made love quickly but with a passion that left me gasping for air.

  Oh, I never mentioned the word “love” again. But I sure felt it in my heart. Wasn’t this what love was, this mind blowing, gotta be with you feeling?

  Long after the lounges had emptied when only the casino was the only spot still humming with activity, we would make love in his room. Then we would take our time and it would be slow and delicious. Those hours were bliss. Jack was the passionate lover Fred could never be. Now I knew what it was to be loved. Now I knew what true passion was. The love lessons Jack taught me, well, you couldn’t even find them in books, at least I’d never run across them.

  In my cards home to Maria, I mentioned Jack. Later I could fill her in on the details. But I knew I’d never tell anyone everything Jack and I did when we were together.

  One night I bumped into Svetlana backstage in the Starlight Theater when I was rushing to get to the Sea Horse Lounge. I’d never been that close to her before. She and Ivan kind of held themselves apart from everyone else.

  Feeling bold, I said, “Svetlana, how I would love to dance like you some day—to be on the stage instead of just an activity assistant.”

  Svetlana turned those green eyes on me and I shivered. They were cold as ice. “It takes a lot of study. You must devote yourself to the dance.”

  “Yes, well, I’d like to,” I babbled on like a star struck kid. Then I thought of Jack. “Of course, I have a personal life too.”

  A frown creased her brow. “You should take care. Things are not what they seem on this ship. It takes time to get to know people.” Then her lips twisted in a mean knowing smile. “And does he show you the kitchens at night? Perhaps the big cutting boards that are so rough from the knives cutting watermelons and cucumbers all day?”

  She laughed and walked on while I shrank back as if I’d been bitten.

  There was only one way she could have known that juicy detail. She had been there too. Had she been with Jack? I remembered the time late at night when Jack had pulled me into the large dark kitchen and lifted me to that large cutting board. It had been rough beneath me, but we weren’t hungry for watermelon or cucumbers, only for each other.

  So many warnings. Idalia, Randu and even catty Svetlana. I ignored them all.

  I guess it was the fourth week. I would later call that magical crazed time my thirty days and thirty nights. As usual, the passengers left and another group spilled on board, excited, curious, ready to roll.

  That week some new crew members also came on board.

  As usual there was a get together for the staff, and at first it seemed like all the other times. Music pulsed through the lounge with an undertone of excited chatter. Jack was the DJ and he was looking so hot that night. His pale denim shirt set off his tan. The sleeves were rolled up and his muscular forearms made my breath catch in my throat, remembering how he made me feel in those arms. His faded jeans hugged his narrow hips, making it clear he was all man.

  My man. Or so I was foolish enough to think.

  I talked with friends about the bargains Idalia had found in St. Thomas on some cute beachwear. But as usual, I was just passing time. Waiting.

  Toward the end Jack left his post behind the console in the corner and I expected him to sidle up behind me, whisper something naughty that would make me woozy and warm with anticipation.

  Instead he joined another group nearby, where a cute little redhead was the center of attention. She was the new aerobics instructor, and I’d say she spent a lot of time working out, from the looks of the body that was packed into her black mini skirt and turquoise tube top. Her red hair fell to her shoulders in frothy curls. If I’d had a scissors with me, I swear I would have cut every one of them off.

  Hurt and confused, I tried to tune in to the conversation in my own group. But my eyes were drawn to Jack. He was just being friendly, I told myself. After all, this was his job.

  But when the room emptied out, Jack was gone. Sick at heart I began to walk down toward his room. Then I straightened. Have some pride, Tina Rosinni, I told myself, trying not to cry. So instead of going to Jack’s room, I marched up one of the staircases toward my own floor and fumbled my way in to my room, blinded by tears.

  Let him find me, I thought. I’d tell him a thing or two.

  I got into bed and sobbed into my pillow, face toward the wall. At one point I felt Randu’s tiny hand on my shoulder. “Oh, Tina. You are beautiful. You will have many boyfriends.”

  Her words were like rubbing salt into the wound. “I already have a boy friend, thank you very much.” I blew my noise and Randu moved soundlessly back to the other bed.

  Tomorrow would be better, I told myself. Tomorrow Jack would find me. He’d sweet talk me. At first I’d pretend to be steaming and then we’d go off to one of the tropical beaches where he would kiss me until I was crazy and we couldn’t wait to get back to the ship.

  But the next day Jack was no where around. When I went up to the pool for a limbo contest in the afternoon, I expected Jack to be there, handling the music. Instead, the mariachi band was set up. I hoped my misery didn’t show in my face as I danced on legs that felt like wood.

  Although the sun blazed in a cloudless sky, I was miserable.

  Thinking that Jack might come to the staff lounge that night, I went but he didn’t show up. My stomach tumbling, I shoved a note under his door, asking him to call me. But he never did.

  By the second day, my world was collapsing.

  “Are you sick, Tina?” Yvette asked as she handed me my poodle skirt. “Lots of flu going around.”

  “I’m fine,” I lied.

  But things just went from bad to worse. We had an addition to the staff that night for the Sock Hop. Roxanne, the red bombshell, as some of the guys called her, was there, bursting out of her sweater and wiggling her hips to the music.

  Jack looped her with the hoola hoop as he led into the demonstration, and I wanted to die when he said, “Why don’t you sit this one out, Tina, and let Roxanne get the hang of things.”

  Choking on anger and humiliation, I drifted to the back of the lounge where I had a full view of the floor. Pretty pathetic. There was Roxanne, grinding away on the floor and Jack, who couldn’t keep his eyes off her.

  Well, you learn to deal with things. I mean, I was on a ship and I’d signed a six month contract. I couldn’t turn on my heel and try to forget Jack.

  So I lifted my chin, did my job. If I ran into Jack, I ignored him, just pretended he was invisible and he did the same. He’d become a polite stranger.

  Idalia and Randu were very sympathetic, but I really didn’t want to talk about it. My dancing got better. I worked on my tan and I learned to smile again. There were plenty of other guys on that floating love boat, let me tell you.

  So I smiled for Juan and Hermano and Padre. Flirted with them and their attention helped lift my sprits. But it was quiet George with the big farm boy smile who in the end was the one I turned to.

  We ended up hanging out together sometimes on shore. He told me about the farm fields of Iowa and I described the East Coast. He was kind and gentle, balm to my wounds.

  By the time Jack dumped Roxanne for Julia, the new act in the Starlight Theater, I was on the mend. By that time I’d figured out that being
in love requires two people—something I seemed to have missed. And by that time, I was talking about signing on for one of the Alaskan cruises with Idalia, George and some of the other kids. One advantage, of course, will be that I can leave Jack and the embarrassment of making a complete fool of myself with him.

  But you know, before I take off for another tour, I’m going home. Yep, going back to Belmont Avenue to spend some time with my folks, see Maria’s new baby. Cause there’s one thing I really miss and nothing on board the ship can compare to it. My mother’s meatloaf. THE END

  MY HUSBAND IS A BUM

  He let it be known on national television!

  The nausea struck me in the green room. Now I know why it’s called green, I thought with a sick sense of humor. What did I think I was doing, anyway? People like me don’t belong on national television. It certainly didn’t help that Gerry wasn’t there. Despite my misgivings, the staff had insisted that Gerry would go on first. Still, something didn’t feel right. I hadn’t been keen on the idea of appearing on the nationally syndicated “Lisa Marie Show” in the first place, but Gerry had insisted. Even after seven years of marriage there wasn’t much I wouldn’t do to please my husband. And he was probably right. The talk show would help us air out our marriage problems. Once again, I was letting my nerves get the better of me. I sucked in my breath, fluffed up my hair, and resolved to make Gerry proud of me.

  Then it was time to go on.

  While I waited backstage the roar of the crowd had been nearly enough to make me turn tail and run. But as soon as my name was announced a hush settled over the audience. When I appeared from behind the curtain the audience murmured with what seemed to be sympathy. Then, as I planted a kiss of greeting on Gerry’s cheek, they hissed. Now, I knew I wasn’t imagining that.

  “Go on!” My husband waved his hands in disgust at the audience. “You don’t know what I put up with.”

  Now the crowd booed vigorously.

  What was going on here?

  “Okay now, everyone. Let’s get control of ourselves.” Lisa Marie held up an elegant, perfectly manicured hand for silence. “We’re not here to judge. At least not until we hear the full story.”

 

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