“We’ve always cared about you,” Marcy said in a timid voice.
“You look gorgeous!” Clara added.
All together there were ten people representing my birth family and their friends. It felt odd to have people I did not remember at my wedding, but even more peculiar to have family that were strangers too. I backed away to greet some of the other guests gathering in the embarkation area. Loving people from my past including Mary Miller, my Guardian ad Litem; and Ms. Sandnes and Mr. Todd from The Children’s Home. My literary agent, Joëlle Delbourgo, made the trip from New York, along with several of Gay’s cousins. Her sister’s whole family had come from Maryland, and friends of the Courters had traveled from France. This was really going to happen!
If I was nervous on my wedding day, Phil was even shakier. From the moment he saw me in my gown, his eyes filled with tears. “Never expected to be walking a daughter down the aisle.” He swallowed after the last words.
“Don’t you dare cry,” I warned, “or you’ll set me off.” We were standing in the hallway leading to the Candlelight Lounge in the aft of the ship.
Phil wiped his brow. “I’m a bit rocky.”
“Think of something silly.”
“Oh, honey . . .” His voice broke.
“Think of puppy farts.”
I laughed so hard I almost burst my back zipper. Then the processional music started. Erick’s father, Rob, led his mother down the aisle. Josh and Blake escorted Gay to her seat in the front row. Uncle Sammie walked Lorraine to one beside Gay.
Next came my flower girls, Tina and Autumn, wearing matching white dresses. Their curls were tied back with white ribbons. Erick’s friend Brenda wore a tux and stood with the groomsmen, while my friend Aaron was in my bridal party and wore a teal cummerbund that matched my bridesmaids’ dresses. I was overwhelmed with happiness that I was in a room full of people from both my present and past. For better or worse, each person had impacted my life in a powerful way. Then I looked at Erick and realized that he was standing there, ready to help carry my heavy baggage and create new memories. The ship shifted slightly—just enough to remind us we were not on solid ground. I held on to Phil’s arm. I had never been much for clichés, but at that moment I realized I was being married on a ship, ready to sail off into the sunset to live happily ever after.
At the end of the service, Gay’s sister Robin held up a wineglass wrapped in a linen napkin. Knowing that most of the guests would not have seen this ritual before, she said, “As is the custom in our family—which is Jewish—the groom is going to break the glass. The shattered glass reminds us that relationships are fragile and we must treat them with special care. On a lighter note, some say it will be the last time the groom gets to put his foot down.”
Everybody laughed as she placed it beneath Erick’s feet. He crunched it, and the audience yelled, “Mazel tov!” We kissed. Then we kissed again.
In the most gallant of gestures, Phil escorted both Gay and Lorraine out of the lounge right after Erick and me. For a brief moment in time I felt that my minuscule corner of the world was a peaceable kingdom.
The luncheon was held in one of the ship’s grand dining rooms. Just like on a cruise, there was almost a waiter for every table, and the meal was going to be served promptly—because the ship was going to sail away that afternoon. When everyone was seated, Erick and I made a grand entrance down a curved staircase and walked around, greeting our guests.
Lorraine was sitting at one of the first tables with her family members. “Where’s Rex?” Erick asked.
“He couldn’t get out of work.”
“Will he still be able to sail?” I asked, before I noticed Sammie shaking his head.
I nodded and we moved on to another guest. Little did I know that Rex had dumped Lorraine just before they reached the rehearsal dinner. Nikki had witnessed them arguing over the car keys in the restaurant’s parking lot, and Lorraine pitched them into the bushes before marching off. It wasn’t until after the cruise that I learned that Lorraine had joined the younger crowd at an Ybor nightclub after the rehearsal dinner and danced on a table. She ripped a guy’s button-down shirt while dirty dancing, and then whipped off the guy’s belt and held it up like a trophy. When the club’s security approached, Josh and Blake had to wrestle her into a taxi.
I had no idea that Lorraine’s sobriety had ended just as she embarked on a cruise where there’s a server around every corner who can’t wait to give you a cocktail in exchange for a swipe of your cruise card.
Meanwhile, I glided through the motions of being a bride, loving every minute of the lunch, and saying farewell to the guests who were disembarking. Then Erick and I posed for our wedding photographs on various outside decks, curving staircases, balconies, and theaters. Every time I caught a glance of myself in a mirror, though, I was reminded that I was overweight. Erick, however, kept grinning and telling me how beautiful I looked.
As soon as possible, I hurried to our honeymoon suite to get out of the tight dress and into something loose so we could help the Courters unpack. Their luggage was more suited to a royal entourage than a short cruise. They’d brought duffels full of party favors, swag bags, contest prizes, and glow-in-the-dark flashing rings.
Gay had packed a computer and printer and produced a newsletter for the guests that included the times for pingpong tournaments, pool parties, face painting, predinner cocktails, and afternoon tea. My bridesmaids had organized themes for each dinner and had suggested that guests pack tropical shirts, black-and-white for formal night, and fancy hats for a contest.
Whether we felt like being alone or were battling seasickness, Erick and I ended up spending much of our time in our suite. When we wanted to socialize, our best friends and extended family were there; when we desired privacy, it was easy to slip away.
On the first day at sea, Gay organized a Ladies-Only Tea in the Piano Bar, which I didn’t attend but heard about later. On her way there, Gay found Lorraine and my aunts lingering in the corridor. “Are you coming to the tea?” she’d asked.
“Not sure we’ll fit in,” Aunt Courtney had said.
“Sure you will. They have delicious biscuits called scones. You’ll love them.” And she swept them along.
Gay made sure everyone was introduced. “This is Ashley’s birth mom, Lorraine, and her sister Leanne and sister-in-law Courtney,” she began. “This is my younger sister, Robin, and my cousins Sandy and Esther—they’re sisters.” Finally she said, “This is one of my closest friends, Ruth—she’s a midwife, who I hope will come in handy one of these days.” Everyone laughed.
After the tea was served, Lorraine said, “You want to hear something crazy? Ashley was married on the twenty-fifth anniversary of my mother’s death.”
“That must be hard for you,” Aunt Robin said with sympathy.
“Yeah, but that’s not the weird part. See, I think I conceived Ashley that night, and so it’s like she got married on the date she was made.”
Supposedly her remark silenced the chatter. Ruth, the midwife, fumbled in her handbag and pulled out a wheel. “That means Ashley was born around November twentieth.”
“The twenty-second,” Gay and Lorraine replied in unison.
Lorraine rambled on with some inappropriate speculation about my paternity, while the Courter side of the party gulped their tea in silence.
The next day Gay’s cousin Sandy said to her, “I can’t believe that you insulted Lorraine.”
“How?”
“You told her that she was dressed like a hooker.”
Gay’s jaw dropped. “Did Lorraine tell you that?”
Sandy nodded.
“First of all, I never said that—and never would. Besides, her clothes have been completely proper.”
“Well, that didn’t sound like something you would say.” Her cousin gave a sarcastic laugh. “You know what she said next?” She waited a long beat. “She said, ‘Even when I was a hooker, I didn’t dress like one.’ ”
> A short while later Aunt Courtney confronted Gay. “Was that tea party of yours some sort of a setup?”
“In what way?”
“Lorraine thinks it was a trap to get her DNA.”
Gay, who wears hearing aids, thought she missed something. “I don’t understand.”
Courtney sighed. “Lorraine thinks that you persuaded us to attend the tea to get some of her hair for DNA.”
“Courtney, you’re a nurse! Nobody doubts that Lorraine is Ashley’s birth mother, which is the only thing that her DNA would prove.”
“I know,” Aunt Courtney said. “Lorraine has a conspiracy theory for everything.”
The troubles escalated, or so I learned. The next day, Josh’s fiesty Italian wife, Giulia, was doing face painting poolside. Autumn and Tina asked for matching butterflies, while Travis was running around in his mustache and pirate patch shouting, “Argh!” Giulia had just finished painting my bridesmaid Jill with flowers that matched her sundress.
“C’mon, Mommy, you’re next!” Autumn said.
Lorraine held back. “I’ll do it if Gay does.”
“I’ll go first if you want me to.” Gay asked her daughter-in-law for birds and vine leaves.
“Butterflies to match Autumn’s” was Lorraine’s request. “Oh, that’s so awesome!” she said when Giulia showed her the painting in a mirror. “I’ll hate to wash it off.”
“I’m going to wear mine to dinner,” Gay announced.
Lorraine looked at her dubiously. “Really? Will you pinky swear?” Gay laughed and offered her pinky.
Erick and I went back to our suite and ordered sandwiches and didn’t show up again until the meet-up in the Café des Artistes Lounge, where Phil was hosting predinner cocktails.
Gay spent the afternoon socializing with her relatives. The deck they were on was shaded, but still, her cousin Esther said, “Don’t look now, but your bird is running.”
“Huh?” Esther pointed to her cheek. Gay touched the spot and her finger blotted the color. “How bad is it?”
“Depends whether you like abstract art,” Esther said.
“I’ll get Giulia to redo it before dinner,” she said.
When the time came, Giulia and Josh weren’t in their room. “Phil, you have to find Giulia or Lorraine will be furious.”
“Just clean the rest off your face,” Phil said. “You look better without it.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Hers probably melted too.”
Lorraine wasn’t at the cocktail hour, but Gay walked right up to her as soon as she entered the dining room. The restaurant was alive with clinking glasses, rattling silverware, service carts, and the excited chatter of cheerful cruisers. I was sitting with my back to Lorraine’s table and with all the clatter didn’t notice the interaction. Later I learned that before Gay got a word out, Lorraine began cursing. “You friggin’ lied to me!”
“The humidity ruined it, and—”
“I knew you were setting me up to look like a fool.”
“I tried to find Giulia, but—”
“The hell you did!”
“Mommy,” Autumn had begged, “stop it!” She put her hands over her ears and burst into tears.
Aunt Courtney jumped up and hustled Autumn out of the restaurant. Josh did the same with Lorraine.
Before dessert, Erick and I walked around and chatted with our guests. I asked Uncle Sammie where Lorraine and Autumn were. “Lorraine took her down to the cabin because she was feeling iffy,” he replied smoothly.
The next day we docked in Cozumel, Mexico, and everyone had different plans for going ashore. Our bridal party went out together. Autumn and her cousins had a beach day. Erick and I went back to the ship early and brought a snack to have on our balcony, which faced the harbor. Exhausted by all the walking in town and bartering for souvenirs, we tried to nap. Erick crashed quickly, but my mind whirled. I got up and took an icy water bottle from the mini-fridge and went out on our balcony. Even though the sun was shining, it was drizzling, but the overhead balcony covered me. I watched the droplets pinging into the water several feet from one another. Each one made a discrete circle that widened slowly until it impinged on the next one. I was mesmerized by the designs—so random, and yet they seemed to have an organizing pattern when viewed from afar. Erick grunted and turned over into his deep-sleep position. So this was where all the random circles of my life had led: to this room on a ship in the harbor of a Mexican island, with many of the people I cared most about in the world. Even Lorraine was here. I had once been told I would never see her again. Nobody could have predicted she would be at my wedding. I found myself aching for Luke, even though I knew Ed was right. There were so many ways he could have gotten in trouble, particularly since he couldn’t legally drink onboard. He also had not made peace with any of our family, and I had no way of knowing how he would react to everyone. He still held a lot of anger and resentment that he couldn’t channel properly.
During that moment of optimistic serenity, I had missed all the signs that Lorraine was no longer sober. Later I heard about all the beers she’d had at the rehearsal dinner, the mixed drinks at the Ybor club, and the serial cocktails at various bars all around the ship with people unconnected to our wedding guests. While my mind was drifting with naive thoughts, Lorraine, wearing a bikini, was cackling uproariously with some strange men on the adults-only deck. I heard about it later from Erick’s father, who commented: “She wasn’t feeling any pain.”
We planned a group photo on the grand staircase, with everyone dressed in black and white. I had brought along a second, more casual wedding dress, but when Erick zipped it, the seam burst. I dissolved into tears. “I’m fat!”
“No, this fabric is flimsy.”
My heart swelled at his lovable lie. “What will I wear?”
“How about your real wedding dress?”
“I’m not up for that corset, pantyhose, girdle, and the double Spanx. And I don’t want the other passengers staring at me.”
“They’ll stare anyway, because you are the most beautiful girl on the ship.”
“Thanks,” I said, wiping my tears, “but that’s laying it on a bit thick.” I went to the closet. “The only other dressy one is red!”
“Bellissima!” Giulia said, approving my “decision” to wear the red dress. “You are the rose in the garden.”
As the photographer was lining everyone up for the photo, I asked where Autumn was.
Aunt Courtney told me that she and Lorraine had gotten too much sun.
The photographer was getting impatient, so I hid my disappointment that all my guests would not be in the picture.
Later I learned that when Gay and Phil returned to their cabin after dinner that night, there was a flashing light on their phone with a message to call Uncle Sammie’s cabin. “You’ve got to help us,” Aunt Courtney cried hysterically when Gay reached her. “They’re arresting Sammie.”
“Whoa,” Gay said. “Who’s arresting Sammie?”
“The ship’s police.”
“Why?”
“He got into a fight with Lorraine.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Gay later described the scene to me. “There were two Filipino guards in the room and one in the corridor. Apparently Lorraine asked Courtney to check in on Autumn while she went back on deck to party with some guys she’d met. But Sammie knew when his sister was over her limit—and Lorraine was way over—so he told her to call it a night. She said, ‘The hell I will’ and headed for the door. Then it gets confusing. Your uncle grabbed her arm. Lorraine shoved him away, but then lost her balance and hit her head on the edge of the bunk. After that she ran to her room, called security, and claimed that Sammie had assaulted her.”
“What did you do when you arrived?”
“I explained the situation—about the two mothers and one feeling so guilty for not raising her own child, the only way she could cope was to get drunk.”
“W
ho would buy that?”
“Well, it is the real story. Anyway, he called his supervisor.” Gay grinned. “You should have seen this guy. He had the fiendish smile of the good guy who comes in right before the interrogator with the electric gadgets. When I pointed out that that Lorraine was drunk while Sammie was sober, he agreed that Lorraine was the troublemaker.
“They put Lorraine on cabin arrest, which meant posting a guard outside her door. When they cleared her to leave the cabin the next day, they blocked her cruise charge card, which meant she couldn’t purchase drinks.”
“That was smart.”
“Too bad it didn’t stop her,” Gay said. “Phil saw her in the Violins Bar with a couple of guys who seemed happy to buy her whatever she wanted.”
As far as Erick and I were concerned, our group honeymoon was a huge success. Autumn and her cousins said it was the best time ever. Our friends urged us to repeat it for every anniversary. Gay’s father, then ninety-four, zoomed everywhere in his power wheelchair. Erick’s grandmother reveled in every new experience. The Smiths and the Courters bonded, and Gay and Erick’s mother, Sharon, dreamed about grandchildren.
We never knew until much later how close Uncle Sammie had come to being detained on the ship and possibly turned over to Florida authorities when we returned. Nobody told us that one of Erick’s cousins, who is a deputy sheriff, took it upon herself to monitor Lorraine’s behavior. In the area where pictures taken by the ship’s photographers were displayed, Phil noticed risqué photos of Lorraine with strangers and tucked them out of sight.
“Everyone protected us,” Erick said right after we heard various versions of Lorraine’s antics, “and I’m grateful.”
So much for those overlapping circles blooming from the drizzling droplets! While I had been fantasizing, Lorraine had been splintering. “Poor Autumn. Where will they live now?”
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