“I can’t beli—
“This isn’t fair to the rest of us,” Lori interjected, “and I’ve had about enough of it. Go.” She whipped around to confront red-faced geriatric, who looked as though she were about to have a heart attack.”
“But...”
“I think it would be best if we allow the serious students to learn. You are more than welcome to come back tomorrow.”
“I paid seven-hundred dollars for this class,” her husband shouted.
“My husband’s the captain. You turn right around, the both of you, and go.”
“You’re a liar,” the woman said.
“She’s not,” Jan cut in between the three of them. “Now I do think it would be best for you to leave.”
“You tell that prick he messed with the wrong lawyer,” the man said, pointing a finger at Lori. He was already starting to walk to the stairs, with his wife stamping her heels behind him.
“Thank you,” Jan beamed, and Lori thought she was going to scream like a little girl at a concert. Not only did she know who Lori was, she liked her. Lori listened intently as Jan went through the ingredients for simple crepes: flour, eggs, milk, salt, butter and water.
She had them all set out and she went around the room, helping people whisk them together. Reina made it very clear the second they were asked to start that she wasn’t going to do a single thing, which was fine—had she not been standing behind Lori, asking a million questions about what it was they were trying to make.
Lori ignored it all and focused on what she was doing, until she saw the bag inside the little refrigerator underneath her station. Strawberries—ripe and gorgeous, sitting next to a bar of chocolate the size of a gold bullion “I guess I’ll try cooking now that you’ve made the mix.”
“I’m not finished.” She took out a saucepan and a bag of sugar. “Measure me half a cup.” She handed it to Reina.
“What are you doing?”
Lori grabbed another pan, a jug of half and half and a salt shaker. She turned on the heat, chopped a square of chocolate, and let it melt, while Reina did her best to open the paper sugar bag without spilling it everywhere. “I hate these things.”
“Tear the top, pull at it, not the corners.”
“Here,” she shoved it over and went back to looming over Lori, who was already pulling the measuring cup out of the bag. She added it into a separate pan, along with a few cups of water, and dumped the strawberries in. “You want to learn how to cook them?”
“It looks hard. And what is all that stuff?”
“Watch.” Lori drizzled a line of unsweetened chocolate into the mix.”
“That’s not sweet.”
“It’s not supposed to be. Whisk it.”
“You whisk it,” Reina countered.
A single look had her stirring the mixture, sending drops of mocha-colored batter flying all around them. While she was doing that, Lori checked the strawberries. On high heat, they would be done in just a few minutes. “Let’s see,” she checked Reina’s mess to make sure it was even. “Good. Hand me that spray.” She motioned to the green bottle next to the sink at the end of the counter.
“I’m not any good at this.”
“That’s OK. It’s a lot easier than you think.”
“How are things progressing—oh, wow.” Jan came swooping in, having finished with the station behind theirs.
Lori felt like a turtle that couldn’t get her head back into her shell. She stood in front of the stove, holding a non-stick pan for the crepes, focused only on her idol. She felt something jab into her stomach and realized that Reina had just elbowed her in the side. “I-I hope it’s OK that...that I used this. It’s just...”
Jan laughed. “Let’s you and I have a sit down sometime.”
“I’d love to. Absolutely.”
“And maybe I’ll teach you a few things.”
“Oh,” she said disappointedly, “alright.”
Jan gave her a knowing smile. “There’s some powdered sugar in the cupboard up here. And when you’re done,” she added with a twinkle, “bring it up so I can show them a real crepe.”
“Sure,” Lori said, focused on stirring the chocolate sauce. She checked the boiling strawberry syrup then went on to show Reina how to cook the thin crepes without burning them to the pan. It didn’t take much for her to learn. She mostly spent her time watching Lori finish the chocolate.
It was annoying, having her move whenever Lori moved, asking about every little thing. She wanted to know what the strawberries were for, just as Lori was getting ready to fill the crepes with them. And the chocolate—she was fascinated with the stuff. To her, it seemed an impossible task—adding a few ingredients into the saucepan and heating them. She just couldn’t believe how easy it was, and Lori had had about enough.
She didn’t want to explain everything. She hated teaching people; she always had, so she did her best to focus on plating the crepes and make sure that they were folded correctly.
There wasn’t much left when she was done. Reina was already sitting on a stool, eating the rest of the strawberries, when she went to pull the sieve out of the cupboard. “Why do you make them so thin?”
“They’re crepes,” she snapped. “They’re fucking crepes, and you don’t have to ask me about them; all you have to do is pull your phone out of your pocket, press the button on the side, and ask it a question.”
“Bu—
“JUST STOP!” Lori closed her mouth abruptly and looked around. Everyone, even Jan was staring at her. She couldn’t stay in that room. She humiliated herself, and now Reina was bawling, telling her how mean she was. She was petrified.
She wanted to fall to her knees and scream. For twenty years—most of her life—she watched Jan’s show every day. She lived on her cookbooks. She perfected everything that Jan taught, and in so doing, she found her calling. That was ruined now. Cade tainted it.
24
Every year, colossal demons came rolling off the water, darkening the sky’s usual dull haze with every variation of gray, white and black. They were a reminder to coastal dwellers that they didn’t own their beloved beaches; mother nature did, and she didn’t care about their fun.
Lori was used to it, because she knew how to protect herself. Her apartment, stocked with sandbags and emergency supplies, was as far inland as she could afford to live. There was always safety on land, so long as she prepared.
The ship was different. When she saw those clouds—if the writhing, churning beasts on the horizon could be called that—terror struck, and she instinctively rushed up to the railing to inspect the waves below.
It didn’t matter that they were calm; her heart wasn’t. She still felt like she was going to fall into the ocean, and she still had no place to hide. Regardless of how big the ship was, or what it was made of, it could still capsize.
The rippling current would transform itself into a shifting landscape of hills and dunes, capable of destroying anything they came up against. There was no moving inland, no running, no barricades. They were in the belly of the beast—the demon Leviathan—and she was terrified.
She kept thinking about Cade’s little fishing boat, rusted steel and fading white wash. The bridge was no more than a hut, bigger than a closet, but not by much. Cade would sleep curled up in the corner with a radio in his hand.
The fishermen would trade news of the weather that way. It was supposed to be a safety protocol, but it wasn’t very effective. They couldn’t predict the future. They were gambling, putting everything on the line, so they could feed themselves and their families. A lot of them were afraid. Most of them were only doing it, because they didn’t have any other option. They had to face their fear and work through it.
Lori wasn’t sure she could do the same. She was standing close to the railing, facing the water, and there was dread rising up in her gut. How could she make that feeling stop if she couldn’t confront its source? But like the fisherman, she’d be taking a gamble. At any
time, Cade’s passion could rise up and overwhelm her.
She moved away, unable to withstand the sickening, panic brought on by her phobia. She waited in her room, unsure of what to do next. There was ballroom dancing, or maybe a meal and a movie.
Drops of rain built up on her window, forcing her out of bed and into the living area. She didn’t want to see them. She didn’t want to be alone, either. She felt like she was sitting in their house by the beach, waiting for him to come home.
He’d knock three times. I... love... you. It was their signal. She hated herself for it, but she needed to hear that sound. She couldn’t be alone, not with a storm coming.
The knock that came wasn’t the deliberate relief she needed. It was soft and meek, which meant that Reina was upset and curious. It would be nice to have some company, but she didn’t want to have to explain herself. She pasted on the shrewdest expression she could muster and called through the door. “What?”
The reply that came was too muffled for her to hear, so she cracked the door. “What?”
“What is wrong with you?” Reina asked. “You just—why did you run out?”
“I don’t want to hear it.” Lori stepped back and let her through.
“You’re losing your mind, you know. That was crazy.”
“I am going though a lot. There’s things that you don’t know—terrible things—and I need my feelings to be respected.”
“He didn’t...?”
“Hit me? No, and I don’t like speculation.”
“Well, can you blame me? I don’t know what you were thinking. You had a celebrity chef ready to offer you personal lessons, and you acted like she’d just slapped you in the face.”
“That was Cade,” she replied. “He had her do that to get back in my favor. I don’t want to be manipulated.”
“Well...” she shifted her foot around. “Why not take a direct approach?”
“I told him not to talk to you.”
“He didn’t say a word.”
“So he sent George,” she raged.
“Look, I don’t like asking people for favors, but I need you to get dressed and come to lunch.”
“With Cade?”
“Yes, with Cade, and I really need this. I’m having some trouble. Please.”
“Trouble?”
“Just...I need to take care of something. I don—I don’t want to get into it.”
Lori gave her a puzzled look and gave herself a moment to decide how she was going to respond.
“It’s not like you can avoid it,” Reina told her. “The longer you wait, the worse it’s going to be.”
“I hate it when people say that,” Lori groaned, as she walked into her room to find an outfit. She poked her head out the door. “Is this a private lunch? I don’t want the passengers talking.”
“Yes, it’s private, and obviously everyone knows.”
25
It was called the captain’s lounge, but Lori would always see it as the place where they reunited. She stepped past the spot where he fell to his knees after she attacked him, past the streams that spanned the length of the room and into the sitting area, where crew members had setup a buffet of hors d'oeuvres and sweets.
Cade was sitting in an armchair facing the hall. He had one leg propped up, and he was reading something on his phone. He whispered to the crew members standing beside him, and the man jolted into a stiff salute. “Yes, captain!”
Lori could feel Reina, practically buzzing with anticipation behind, when he turned his attention to them and stood. He gave Reina a nod and waited for Lori to react. “Is that caviar?” she asked, dispelling the moment.
“Yes,” he said, softening his posture. He motioned for them both to take their seats. Lori sat a safe distance away from his chair and turned to see Reina looking down at the ground.
“I think you should go speak with her,” Lori whispered.
“It’s already being taken care of,” Cade told her. “I promise.”
“Not until I get my stuff out of there,” Reina insisted.
“No sooner, and arrangements are already being made.”
“Thank you,” Reina blurted out before taking a quick look at Lori. As soon as she did, she ran towards the elevator, like a criminal trying to escape the police.
Lori waited until she left to chastise Cade for going behind her back. “You can be direct. You don’t have to do that stuff.”
“She called me.”
“You sent George, and you just gave her something as an incentive to get me to come see you.” She ran a hand through her hair and reached out with the other to take a cracker and scoop up a helping of black beluga. She took her time, moving the stuff around in her mouth, until the salty taste got to be too much, and she couldn’t stand having him look at her any longer. She stood and faced the balcony. “Are we going through the storm?”
“No,” he replied. “I directed course as far away from it as we could get, just so you’d feel safe.”
Something sparked inside, a surge of rage; she didn’t even know it was there, but it was. “I don’t know what to tell you. I wish you’d let me just...” she stopped herself before she could say that she was trying to decide. She didn’t want to him to keep thinking that she was straddling the fence. “I don’t why I’m bothering to do this. You’re not going to listen.”
“It’s not easy,” he whispered, suddenly beside her. The heat from his arm was hot and uncomfortable. It was bringing up thoughts she didn’t want to have. She stepped away and played it off by walking out onto the balcony. That only made things worse. Seeing the water racing down the unguarded edge, had her stopped in the middle, unable to go any further.
Of course, he had to come up from behind, boots scraping against the deck. He stopped, and she felt him—just him. The force of his presence was enough to set off her senses. It was his immutable nature. Nothing could change him.
“I don’t...why can’t I have some time?”
“I just wanted to have lunch,” he said, adding a casual tone to a significant act. He strode past towards the edge and pointed at something in the distance. “Look.”
She followed his gaze out past the ship. The white contour of a smaller vessel was bobbing in the distance. It seemed to fade into the hazy sky behind it, making it difficult for Lori to tell where the ship ended and the horizon began. “That’s yours?”
He nodded proudly, his excitement shining out. She loved those rare glimpses when he’d come to life, and he let his inner child show. “The Lunafreya is the only ship in the fleet with a docking bay. They’re very rare.”
“And you’re the one that pilots it,” Lori said.
“I wouldn’t let anyone else,” he said. “I know I should give the men a chance, but it’s my favorite. I’ve gotten used to it.”
“You sound like you’re talking about a collection of sports cars. Do you own the whole line?”
“It started with Louie,” he said, referring to his old boat. He turned to walk back in. “Come on.”
He didn’t want to give her a chance to think. It wasn’t because he was pushing her. He wanted spontaneity in moments like this—a true distraction, just so they could have fun.
Had she not been convinced that his intent was pure, she wouldn’t have followed him out to the bay. She was glad that she did, because when she saw it, she knew she’d never forget that place.
The Lunafreya was beautiful. The decor wasn’t made up of the plastic and fiberboard. There was real marble, chestnut and mahogany—fresh cut flowers and live displays. Cade took the time to perfect things. That was the man he was, and the effect was astounding.
Lori never cared about appearances. She was impressed by true achievement and magnitude. The docking bay displayed both, so it was no wonder that, when Cade saw her stop to take the place in, he had a proud smile. He was also watching her expression. “Say something.”
His voice shocked her back to reality, and a sudden disorienting feeling came o
ver her. The shaft was lined with a grated metal catwalk, and she could see the water below. “How far down is that?”
“A hundred feet.”
“Jesus,” she whispered and felt herself tilting to the side, overwhelmed by the sight of the open waves. He caught her—a single hand on her back, but it was enough to quell the anxiety. To her left, the catwalk stretched out towards the open air. To her right, the shaft ended in a series of conveyer ramps the size of four houses, allowing boats to be towed directly out of the ship into the bay, where they could shoot out into the sea.
A shadow crossed the opening, and Lori marveled at the site of Cade’s yacht passing through. She couldn’t really call it a yacht, not in the typical sense. It was really a small ship, sleek and pointed with three below decks and a closed cabin above.
The crewmen’s steps clanked against the grating as they ran to finish boarding preparations. Men in naval uniforms, kitchen whites and suits, all came pouring out of various portholes, many carrying goods, others with supplies. She was surprised to see furniture, paintings and kitchen utensils. “What is that?”
She pointed to a pair of men carrying giant gold vases. “I had the ship cleaned. They’re bringing in the furnishings. I promise, nothing else.”
The skeptical look she gave him was more playful than serious. “It looks like we’ll be leaving for a week.”
“There’s a lot there. I also want to make sure that we’re safe.”
“What about that wall of water coming towards us?”
“The storm is nowhere near us, and it’s going in a different direction. In a few days, we might experience some heavy rainfall, maybe choppy waters, but nothing significant. Also,” he added as they started walking, “a plane can always reach us within a few hours—at the very most.”
“There’s no danger here?”
“None,” he said. “You couldn’t even die from jumping overboard. There are automated nets.”
“I knew it.”
“Well, we have to childproof the ship,” he said with a sly grin.
Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology Page 38
