Dreamboat

by Judith Gould

  “That young man again,” Monika said with a nod. “Too bad. She’s wasting her time with him.”

  “Why do you say that?” Crissy asked.

  Monika shrugged. “Because, darling, he’s only using her for a fling. He probably does this with a different young lady on every voyage. The girl-in-every-port syndrome, you know. Except that they’re on the ship.”

  “I’m not so sure that he’s using her any more than she’s using him,” Crissy said with a laugh. “Jen likes to play around.”

  Crissy found that she did love Pompeii, as Mark promised, but she’d had no idea the site was so huge. She quickly discovered that it would take many days or many visits to see everything. After more than two hours of constant walking, awed as she was by the beauty of the ruins, she found herself glad to accept Monika’s invitation to return to the Sea Gate, by which they’d entered, and have something to drink at a sidewalk café across the street.

  “I had no idea that it still smells like the site of a fire,” Crissy said as they exited the city. “Did you smell it?”

  “Well, it was a vast crematorium,” Monika replied, “and I got whiffs of the awful burning odor, too.”

  “I love the houses with their inner courtyards and fountains,” Crissy said. “They must have been beautiful.”

  “Oh, yes,” Monika said. “That’s still such a good plan, isn’t it? Especially where the weather allows.” She paused. “Oh, here we are. Finally. I can rest my feet.”

  Crissy didn’t point out that Monika had worn high heels for sightseeing, walking on large, irregular cobbles and slick marble. She gathered that Monika would have worn the same shoes for mountain climbing, and the same outfit, a dress more suitable for a late-afternoon cocktail party. She gathered that the eccentric woman was so enamored of her glitzy wardrobe that no occasion would warrant her changing into something casual.

  They ordered iced coffees and chatted about what they’d seen, and Crissy listened to Monika’s running commentary on the terrible dressing standards maintained by most of the tourists that passed by. “Gym clothes,” she said disdainfully. “And sneakers. The world is going to the dogs, wearing such apparel to travel. Imagine. And from the looks of most of the people, they’ve never seen the inside of a gym.”

  Crissy laughed. “That’s true,” she agreed. “So many of them are overweight.”

  “Yes,” Monika said. “They are terribly unfit. I hope you never allow yourself to get in such a state. You’re far too beautiful to let yourself go. One must keep up one’s standards even if the rest of the world is too lazy, too slothful, and too inconsiderate of others to dress appropriately.”

  The café was situated at the top of a hill up which the access road climbed, and she thought she could see a familiar figure coming their way. As he drew closer, she could see that it was indeed who she thought it was, despite his not being in uniform. Luca Santo was dressed in a sharp-looking sports jacket, sweater, and trousers. Her pulse began to race, and she felt a flutter in her chest as she had when she saw Mark. It was an instinctual response that arose of its own accord, and it frustrated Crissy, because she had no control over it.

  When he saw her, he waved, and Crissy returned it. She hoped that Monika didn’t notice her sudden excitement at seeing Luca because she didn’t want to hear what she might have to say about him, and she certainly didn’t want to listen to a lecture about wasting her time with one of the ship’s employees.

  He drew up to the table and tipped his cap. “Hello, ladies.”

  Monika was impressed. “How do you do?”

  “Hi,” Crissy said.

  “I hope you’re feeling better today,” he said to Crissy.

  “Yes, Doctor,” she replied. She was uncomfortable using his first name in front of Monika, besides which, she didn’t want Monika to know to what extent they knew each another. “I’m feeling much better, thank you.”

  “Oh, so you’re the ship’s doctor,” Monika said, looking at him with more interest. “We are so grateful to you for taking such good care of our darling friend here.”

  Luca nodded. “It was my duty,” he replied, “and my pleasure. She was a very good patient.”

  Monika’s gaze swept him up and down, assessing him as if he were a side of beef. “Would you care to join us, Doctor?” she asked. “We’re having a coffee and resting our feet. This is such a large site, you know.”

  Luca pulled out a chair and sat down, then caught the waiter’s attention. “Would you like another coffee?” he asked. “Or something else?”

  Crissy nodded. “I think I’ll have a refill,” she said.

  “I will, too,” Monika said. “This is quite good coffee for such a touristy spot, isn’t it.”

  Luca gave the waiter their order in Italian.

  “You know Crissy, of course,” Monika said, “and I am Monika Graf, the novelist.”

  “Luca Santo,” he said smiling. “So you are a writer?”

  “Yes,” Monika replied, “and my novels are published in Italian.”

  “I’ll have to look for them,” Luca said.

  “They may not be to your taste,” Monika said, although she was pleased with his response. “So you are Italian?” she said, still observing him closely.

  “Yes,” Luca said.

  “And where are you from?” she asked.

  “Firenze,” he replied. “Florence.”

  “Lovely,” Monika said. “I thought your accent was a bit more northern. The Neapolitan accent is so . . . different.” She looked as if she had a bad taste in her mouth.

  “Yes,” he said. “There are many different accents, of course, as there are in all countries, I guess, but one is hardly superior to the other.”

  “You don’t think so?” Monika said. “Surely you are joking.”

  “No,” Luca said, shaking his head. “I’ve had extremely intelligent friends at school who spoke with a Palermitan accent that was practically unintelligible until you got used to it. There were a couple from Calabria with that southern dialect, too, but they were top students.”

  “Of course,” Monika said, but it was apparent that she either didn’t agree with him or didn’t like hearing what he had to say. Crissy remembered how she had made fun of Rudy’s and Mina’s accents.

  The waiter brought their coffees, and Luca thanked him.

  “Are you enjoying the trip?” Luca asked, changing the subject.

  “Yes,” Monika said, “though I prefer larger, more glamorous ships.”

  Luca laughed. “And you?” He looked at Crissy.

  “Oh, yes,” she said. “I loved Athens, Taormina, and what I got to see of Catania, and today has been wonderful. I’ve always wanted to see Pompeii.”

  “Good,” he said. “This trip is a great opportunity to see a lot.” He took a sip of his coffee.

  “Tell me, Dr. Santo,” Monika said, “how do you like working on the ship?”

  “It’s a good experience,” he said. “A good way to start out, I think, but I only plan on doing this for another year or two.”

  “It seems to me you could do much better for yourself, financially at least, if you were in private practice,” Monika observed.

  “Certainly,” he said, “but this is a way to have a bit of adventure and see a bit of the world before settling down.”

  “And where do you plan to settle down?” Monika asked.

  “I’m not sure yet,” Luca said, “but either in Italy or the States.”

  “The States?” she said, surprised.

  “Yes,” Luca replied. “My mother is American, and I’ve been there many times. She grew up near Philadelphia and Florida, but her family lives in Florida year-round now. I like it there very much.”

  “I see,” Monika said. “What part of Florida?”

  “Palm Beach,” he said. “I love the sea, and I like that it’s on the ocean yet a town with a lot to offer. And it’s close to Miami, a real city.”

  “There are a lot of Europeans t
here now, which helps, I think,” Monika said. She put the coffee cup down and looked at Luca. “And what brings you here today?” she asked. “To Pompeii?”

  “Well . . .” Luca began slowly, as if searching for words. “I—I’ve been here before, of course, but just wanted an outing, you know. A break from the ship. So I took the train from Naples to see some of the landscape. Get a glimpse of Pompeii.” His gaze caught Crissy’s, and a little smile formed on her lips.

  “I see,” Monika said, oblivious to their exchange. “Tell me,” she said, looking at him again, “if you practice in Italy, where will it be? Florence?”

  “Probably,” he said. “My father is a doctor there, and I could go into practice with him. But I think I prefer to start out on my own.”

  “Ah, an independent streak,” Monika said.

  Luca shrugged. “I suppose.”

  “I think that’s admirable in a man,” she said, looking at him coquettishly.

  Crissy was surprised by Monika’s flirtatious behavior. She also found that she felt possessive of Luca, irrational though the feeling might be, and thus resentful of Monika’s interest in him.

  “My father is very controlling,” Luca said with a laugh, “so I don’t know whether it’s so much a matter of my being independent as it is my wanting to get out from under his wing.”

  Monika put a hand on his arm. “We all have to escape the parental nest to make our own way in the world, don’t we? Otherwise, we suffocate.”

  A momentary look of discomfort clouded Luca’s features, but he quickly formed a smile and replied, “I think you must be right.”

  Crissy saw the tour guide and a number of their party going down the steep road toward where the bus was parked. “I think we must be getting ready to go back to the ship,” she said. “I see Rudy and Mina and some of the others leaving.”

  “Oh, we have time,” Monika said, removing her hand from Luca’s arm and flapping it breezily in the air. “They will go into that dreadful cameo factory before leaving.”

  “Don’t you want to see the cameos?” Luca asked.

  Monika shook her head. “I don’t like them. Too old-fashioned for me, and too old-lady, if you know what I mean.”

  Luca laughed. “Well, I’d better get on my way,” he said. “I’m taking the train back, and it leaves soon.”

  “Oh, no,” Monika exclaimed, putting a hand on his arm again. “But you just got here.”

  “Yes,” he replied, “but unfortunately I could only steal a short time away from the ship.” He pushed his chair back. “It was a pleasure to have met you,” he said to Monika. Then he turned to Crissy. “And you take care of yourself.”

  “I will,” Crissy replied.

  He signaled the waiter for the check, carelessly glanced at it, then handed him some euros. “I will see you again,” Luca said, then turned and started down the hill.

  “He’s a promising young man,” Monika said, watching him leave. “Very promising, indeed.”

  “So you approve of him,” Crissy said.

  “Oh, yes,” she said. “He just needs a guiding hand. An experienced hand.” She fussed with the pendant that hung from her necklace, adjusting it against her bodice. The rings on her fingers caught the light and reflected it, impressing Crissy as they always did with their dazzling display. “A woman of maturity,” Monika went on, “would be ideal for a young man like him.”

  “But you said yourself that he has an independent streak,” Crissy said. “Wouldn’t that—”

  “My darling,” Monika said, giving her that you-poor-ignorant-creature look, “I was humoring him. He is obviously unformed, a malleable and compliant young man who could be shaped and molded into something formidable, distinguished even. Don’t you see?”

  “I suppose so,” Crissy said, not really seeing at all. She thought that Luca knew exactly what he was doing.

  “Well,” the older woman said, “I guess we’d better start down that infernal road to the bus. If you like, there’s still time for you to see the hideous cameos with the others. I’ll wait outside at the trinket stands. I’d rather see obscenely decorated tiles and vases than look at those oh-so-precious things.” She rose to her feet and picked up the enormous gold leather handbag she carried everywhere. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes,” Crissy said, “but I think I’ll look at the obscene trinkets, too, instead of the cameos.”

  Monika laughed. “Clever girl.”

  As they began the descent, Crissy wished that she could have taken the train back to Naples with Luca. She could imagine sitting next to him as he pointed out places of interest along the way. Well, she thought with a sigh, she was lucky to be under the wing of a well-known European author, a lady of sophistication from whom she could learn so much.

  Jenny appeared at dinner, which surprised everyone and thrilled Dr. Von Meckling. “I spent the entire afternoon with a friend,” she said, smiling secretively, “but he had obligations tonight, so here I am.”

  She flirted with the old doctor outrageously during the meal, seemingly enjoying his attention enormously, allowing him to brush his leg against hers repeatedly and patting him numerous times on the back or his arm. The table was amused by her behavior, although no one said anything about it directly.

  Afterward they went to the show together, tonight’s labeled “Around the World.” It was very much like the last show, Crissy noted, but with different costumes and music. When it was over, she and Jenny went to the cabin, promising to meet their friends at the disco later, after they had changed clothes and refreshed their makeup.

  In the cabin, Jenny changed into a micromini dress with an extremely low-cut top that left little to the imagination. “What do you think?” she asked Crissy.

  Crissy looked her up and down. “I think you’re asking for trouble,” she replied with a laugh.

  “I hope I get it,” Jenny said, twirling in front of the mirror.

  “Is Manolo going to be there?” Crissy asked.

  Jenny shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe, maybe not.”

  Crissy looked at her quizzically, dumbfounded by her attitude. “What’s this? You suddenly don’t care? What happened?”

  “Nothing,” Jenny replied. “It’s just that, well, I’m ready to move on, you know? Somebody new. Manolo was great for a few good screws, but he’s not all that fascinating, you know?” She paused thoughtfully, then added, “Besides, he’s getting a little too close. A little too . . . serious.”

  Uh-oh, Crissy thought. Now we’re getting at the heart of the issue. Manolo was actually falling for her, and Jenny wasn’t ready for that. At least not with him. Since her divorce, she’d hopscotched from one man to another. Maybe, Crissy thought, Jen was gun-shy. Maybe deep down inside she’d actually suffered more when she left her ex-husband than she’d let on.

  “So he’s getting serious about you and you don’t feel the same way about him. That’s it?” Crissy said.

  “Honey, I’ll miss that big cock, but that’s all,” Jenny said with a laugh.

  Crissy laughed helplessly. “Oh, you really are too much.”

  Jenny looked at her. “You look terrific,” she exclaimed. “Seductive without being in-your-face.”

  Crissy was pleased with the compliment, and thought Jenny had hit the nail on the head in describing the dress. The top was sheer black chiffon that covered her arms to the wrists and went up to a high neck. Underneath the chiffon was a very low-cut bodice of black satin. It was revealing but demure at the same time. It certainly wasn’t as daring as much of Jenny’s wardrobe. The skirt was cut above the knee and was great for dancing because it was full, and the layers of chiffon fluttered about her as she moved in a very romantic way, she thought.

  “Well, let’s get a move on,” Jenny said.

  At the disco, they took seats at the small round table with the others, Crissy noticing that Jenny was squeezing in next to old Dr. Von Meckling. She’ll try to drive the poor old man completely crazy, Crissy thought, taking
a seat between Monika and Rudy.

  “I ordered a bottle of champagne for the table,” Rudy said. “I hope you’ll have some.”

  “I’d love just a tiny bit,” Crissy replied.

  Rudy began pouring. “No more,” she said. “Please.”

  He quit instantly. “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “Unfortunately, if I have much more than that, you’ll have to carry me out of here,” she said.

  “Well, if you change your mind . . .” Rudy said.

  When the glasses were filled, Monika raised her glass in a toast. “To Rudy,” she said, “for providing us with this delightful treat.”

  “Here, here,” Dr. Von Meckling said, and everyone sipped the champagne.

  Crissy had no sooner set her glass down than she saw Valentin descend from his roost at the bar and head her way. “Would you care to dance?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Crissy said, getting up.

  He escorted her to the dance floor and led her in a foxtrot. “Where were you last evening?” he asked, his penetrating gray eyes focused on her. “I missed dancing with you.”

  “Oh, did you?” Crissy said, tilting her head to one side. “I bet you had plenty of dancing partners, Valentin. I’ve seen you dancing with lots of the ladies.”

  “Yes, but it is not the same when you are not here.”

  “That’s sweet of you to say,” she replied.

  “Your friend was here,” he said, “dancing with one of the ship’s officers.”

  “Yes,” Crissy said. “She told me.”

  “You never answered my question. Where were you?” His demeanor was serious, and Crissy didn’t quite know what to make of it. “I was feeling a little under the weather,” she said, “so I went to bed early.”

  He looked alarmed. “Nothing serious, I hope?”

  “No,” she said. “Just a little bug or seasickness or something.”

  “You must take care of yourself,” he said, drawing her closer to him, his eyes boring into her again. “We wouldn’t want anything bad happening to you.”

  What a strange thing to say, she thought. Then she amended the thought: Maybe not such a strange thing to say, but the way he said it was definitely odd. As was the deadly earnest voice. The steely eyes. Pulling me against him. She felt an involuntary shiver run up her spine, then told herself as he gracefully swept her around the dance floor that she was being melodramatic. Valentin was simply Bulgarian, and Monika had said he was uncultured and primitive. Maybe she was right and that explained his peculiar nature. In any case, she thought, he dances with many of the women, so he’s got to be a stand-up guy. Just a little odd.