Dreamboat

by Judith Gould

  Crissy replied anyway. “No, it’s not an emergency. I saw him once before, and I’m taking antibiotics. But something’s still wrong.”

  “I see. . . .” Voula’s voice trailed off for a moment, then she said, “You can come tonight. At nine-thirty or nine forty-five.” In a triumphant voice, she added, “No sooner, so if your stomach bothers you, it will have to bother you. The doctor is booked.”

  “Nine forty-five,” Crissy replied, thinking: Perfect!

  “Your name again?”

  “Crissy Fitzgerald,” she said.

  “Nine forty-five,” Voula said, slamming the receiver down.

  I should tell Luca to give her some lessons in customer relations, she thought.

  She heard the cabin door open, and turned to see Jenny come into the room. “Hi,” she said gaily. “What’ve you been up to?”

  Jenny shrugged and kicked off her heels, the same stilettos she’d been wearing last night, Crissy observed. “Not much,” she said in a flat voice. “Not anything that would interest you anyway.”

  That’s a good answer, Crissy thought. Good and hostile. This from the young divorcée who had shared all of her sexual exploits with Crissy since she’d left her ex-husband. She obviously didn’t want Crissy to know what she’d been up to, so, Crissy decided, Jenny wasn’t going to hear anything about her activities either. The thought was not a happy one, for Crissy really wanted to share the joy she had found with Luca, and she and Jenny had always shared information about the men in their lives. Well, no more, she supposed. She didn’t understand what had happened, why Jenny had cut her out of her life, but she didn’t think that she should push for answers because Jenny wasn’t in a talking mood.

  She watched as Jenny silently slipped out of her glittery top and matching miniskirt, dropping them to the floor in a pile, then saw her go into the bathroom and close the door without another word. What was the silence all about? she wondered.

  Who cares? She’s not going to take the shine off my day, Crissy thought. Nothing, not even the gray skies and threatening rain, was going to do that. She retrieved her shoulder bag, deciding she would take a stroll about the ship.

  She took the stairs up two decks, where the shops, casino, library, card room, and piano bar were located. Seeing a duty-free shop that looked interesting, she decided to browse for presents she could take back home. A very pretty young German woman—GUDRUN, the tag read—ran the shop, and in her perfect, unaccented English she asked Crissy if she would like to volunteer to be a guinea pig.

  “For what?” Crissy asked.

  “See the rollers with the diamonds by the yard?” Gudrun pointed to a display table on which several large metal rollers were wound with yards of gold chains set with sparkling stones every six inches or so.

  Crissy nodded. “What are those anyway?”

  “First, they’re not actually diamonds,” Gudrun said with a rueful smile. “The chains aren’t gold, either. They are rhinestones set on different gold-tone chains. See?” She regarded Crissy questioningly.

  “Yes,” Crissy said, “but what are they for?”

  “Oh,” Gudrun replied. “They have many uses. I can cut lengths to make bracelets or necklaces, one strand or several, depending on what you want. Also, they’re great to weave in your hair if you wear it up. Remember”—she raised a finger in the air in a gesture reminiscent of a schoolteacher—“tonight is a formal night, so you want to be extra-beautiful.” She smiled brightly, and her pale blue eyes glittered impishly behind her glasses.

  Crissy laughed. “I think I can pass,” she said. “I don’t really have the money to spend on them.”

  “You don’t even know how much they are,” Gudrun replied.

  “How much are they,” Crissy retorted.

  “For you, free,” Gudrun said conspiratorially.

  “Free? But why?”

  “Because you will be my advertisement,” Gudrun said. “You are one of the most attractive women on the ship, so everyone will see these on you and want them. They will think that if they buy them, they will look more like you.” Her flow of words ceased, and she stood as if at attention, her hands folded in front of her, daring Crissy to challenge her logic, but smiling all the same.

  “You’re serious,” Crissy said.

  Gudrun nodded. “I will cut bracelets for you, a necklace, and even wind them in your hair.” She approached Crissy with a serious expression. “May I?” she asked, her hands rising to Crissy’s hair, but not touching it.

  “Yes,” Crissy said.

  Gudrun ran her hands through Crissy’s shoulder-length hair, then let it drop back into place. “You have just enough to put in a French twist or a chignon, either of which I can wrap in our world-famous diamonds by the yard.”

  They both giggled.

  “Well, are you interested? All you have to do is wear my precious phony gems, look beautiful, and tell everyone that you got them here. How’s that?”

  “I-I guess it’s all right,” Crissy said.

  “I promise to make you look beautiful—enhance your beauty I should say—but restrain myself from making you look like a walking advertisement. I get a commission on these, so I want you to look your best.”

  “I’ll do it,” she said.

  “Oh, you’re a sport,” Gudrun said. “I’ll cut the bracelets and necklace now. Then if you don’t mind, come by tonight before dinner, and I’ll do your hair.”

  “I can have it put up,” Crissy said, “so it shouldn’t take long.”

  “You are wonderful,” Gudrun said. “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll have the bracelet and necklace. I’ll have to fit them on you.”

  Crissy watched as Gudrun selected a length of gold-tone and rhinestone chain from one of the rollers then snapped it off. She draped it around Crissy’s wrist, where, surprisingly, it looked much better than on the roller.

  “This will wrap around three times,” Gudrun said. She unrolled another length of the same golden chain set with rhinestones, this one much longer, and cut it off. She draped it around Crissy’s neck, then stood back. “I think it’s perfect,” she pronounced, “but look at it in the mirror on the counter.”

  Crissy did as she was told and agreed with Gudrun. It would be a glamorous touch with her simple formal gown tonight. “It is perfect,” she said. “I don’t know how you do it.”

  Gudrun laughed. “From doing it so many times,” she confessed. “A lot of women don’t like to travel with valuable jewelry nowadays, then they see this and want it to dress up their outfits. It’s a relatively inexpensive way to do it, and if somebody should rob you, God forbid, you haven’t lost something valuable or of sentimental value.”

  “That’s what I’ll tell everyone,” Crissy said with a laugh. “That I left all of my real jewelry at home and had to get these.”

  Gudrun laughed. “Very good,” she said. She busied herself with small metal cutters and a pair of pincers, first cutting a link, then securing it to another one to create the bracelet and necklace. “Maybe with your hair we can try a different style chain and a rhinestone of a different cut.” She looked up from her work at Crissy. “What do you think?”

  “I think so,” Crissy said. “Why not?”

  “You’re my perfect model,” Gudrun replied. “Is there anything else you want?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Crissy replied. “I’d thought about buying a small bottle of the Femme perfume, but even here it’s expensive, so I’ll pass on that.”

  Gudrun went to the shelf where the various size bottles of Femme were displayed and took a small one. She brought it back and slipped it into Crissy’s shoulder bag. “There,” she said. “A thank-you.”

  “Well, thanks,” Crissy said. “I feel sort of like Cinderella now.”

  They both laughed again. “I’ll see you around eight,” Gudrun said.

  In the hospital, Monika sat down on the examination table, wrinkling her nose at the crinkling paper that was spread down it. She knew it wa
s for hygienic purposes, but the noise it made was unpleasant nevertheless. Crossing her long, shapely legs—her best feature, she thought—she hiked up her skirt just a bit to give the doctor a better view while not appearing to be unladylike. When he came in and introduced himself, she could see that he was even better-looking than she remembered.

  She held his extended hand longer than necessary. “I’m Monika Graf,” she said, “the writer.”

  “Yes, of course. We met in Pompeii,” Luca said, removing his hand from hers. Was she flirting with him? he wondered. He thought it best not to say that he wasn’t familiar with her books. He looked down at the form she’d filled out for Voula. “I’m sorry it’s under the present circumstances,” he went on. “I see you have a stomach problem.”

  “Yes,” she said, patting it lightly with one hand, her rings flashing in the light. “Mal de mer? A wee seasickness? Something I ate? I don’t know.” She fluttered her eyelids coquettishly.

  Luca looked back down at the form, as if searching for vital clues to her sickness. Who was she kidding? he wondered. She could almost be his mother. “Could you describe the symptoms?”

  “It’s been upset,” Monika replied vaguely, shifting on the examination table, uncrossing and crossing her legs.

  “Have you been running a fever?” Luca asked. “Or had any other symptoms?”

  “No,” Monika said. “It’s just my tum-tum.”

  “I can give you something to help settle your stomach,” Luca said, “and if you don’t feel better tomorrow, then I want you to give me a call. Okay?”

  Monika could see that he wasn’t interested in her and was neither surprised nor disappointed. She wasn’t to many young men’s taste—few of them liked mature women such as herself, regardless of their superior knowledge and abilities—although there were those who would gladly worship at her feet. “That’s so sweet of you,” Monika gushed. Then she added, “I can see why Crissy likes you.”

  He was surprised by her reference to Crissy and a little embarrassed by this personal intrusion into his professional life. He couldn’t ignore the woman’s remark, however. “Ah, you can?” he said. He pulled a pad from the pocket of his lab coat and began scribbling on it.

  “But I must warn you,” Monika went on, “she’s not the innocent abroad she seems. No, indeed.” Her eyes lit up malevolently, and she held a finger in the air to make her point. “She’s a vixen, wanton and dangerous, and you’ll be sorry you ever met her. Mark my word, if you continue to see her, you’ll regret it, Doctor.”

  Luca stiffened at the torrent of words.

  “She’s caused no end of trouble,” Monika continued, “and she’ll—”

  “Frau Graf,” he said, “you’ll forgive me, but I have patients waiting. Please give this to the nurse.” He handed her a slip of paper. “And call me tomorrow if you don’t feel better.”

  He turned to leave the room.

  “You’ll thank me for this,” Monika said to his back.

  Luca ignored her and kept going.

  There, Monika thought with satisfaction, not in the least disturbed by his reaction. I’ve planted the seeds of doubt. She picked up her big gold leather handbag and slipped off the examination table. Crissy’s a useful girl, malleable and moldable, and he’ll not steal her away from Mark. Or me.

  Crissy waved good-bye to Gudrun through the window of the duty-free shop, then patted her hair and blew her a kiss. Gudrun laughed, and Crissy went on her way, happy to have made a new friend, even if only for the duration of the trip. She also felt especially glamorous and could hardly wait for Luca to see her. Her hair was gathered in a French twist, and Gudrun had expertly woven a length of the golden chain set with rhinestones through it, then encircled it to great effect. So what if the gold and gems were fake? Crissy thought. Her dress wasn’t by a well-known designer either, but it looked great on her. A creamy white, it was made of a crinkled and loosely pleated silklike fabric and was cut much like a Grecian toga with an empire waist trimmed in gold and cream braiding. Floor-length, the back was cut a little longer, giving a hint of a train. When she moved, the pleated fabric swirled out behind her, and she appeared to float.

  On the way to the shop, she hadn’t failed to notice the many admiring glances she received, and she wondered if she was overdressed. She wasn’t used to the attention that was being directed toward her, and she felt self-conscious.

  When she entered the large, elegant room, the maître d’ crooned. “You look beautiful tonight,” he said. “The most beautiful woman here.”

  “Thank you,” Crissy replied as he led her to the table.

  Heads turned in the dining room, watching her progress from the entrance to the table. When she reached it, the maître d’ pulled her chair back, and she sat down, using a hand to gather excess fabric and pull it to the side.

  “You look like an angel from heaven,” Rudy declared.

  “Divine,” Monika crooned, kissing her cheek.

  “Sexy, too,” Mina said with a laugh.

  Dr. Von Meckling nodded in her direction and mouthed something indecipherable, but it sounded appreciative.

  “Thank you,” Crissy said, glancing about the table. “Everyone looks fabulous.” Monika, unsurprisingly, was in floor-length sequins that were nearly blinding in the light, casting reflections with her every move, and Mina was in red ruffles again, only a different dress, this one of taffeta with the largest ruffles Crissy thought she’d ever seen. Rudy and Dr. Von Meckling were in black tie, the doctor’s jacket emblazoned with several medallions. Crissy wondered what they were.

  “I love your hair,” Monika said.

  “I got the ‘jewels’ in the duty-free shop,” Crissy replied.

  Monika looked momentarily alarmed. “Don’t tell a soul,” she said. “They look like a million dollars.”

  “I’m going there tomorrow,” Mina said. “I must have some.”

  “Where’s Jenny?” Monika asked.

  “I have no idea,” Crissy replied. She was beginning to feel peculiar, constantly being asked the whereabouts of her friend and never knowing the answer.

  “I’m sure she’ll be here,” Rudy replied. “Just late as usual.”

  “Now,” Monika said, “you must tell us what you’ve been doing.”

  “Oh,” Crissy said, as if she’d forgotten something trivial. “I was invited out to dinner last evening.”

  Eyebrows raised expectantly, but Crissy took a well-timed sip of water.

  “You are being terribly mysterious,” Monika said. “You force me to ask with whom you dined.”

  “Mark Vilos,” Crissy replied in a matter-of-fact voice.

  “Indeed,” Monika said, her interest piqued. “In his cabin?”

  “Yes, in his cabin,” Crissy said.

  “How was your dinner?” Monika asked.

  “Nice,” Crissy replied.

  Monika looked at her crossly. “ ‘Nice,’ ” Monika parroted, “is an almost meaningless word. You are being extremely difficult, my darling. Twice now you’ve seen the most ravishing and richest young man on the ship—the owner’s son and only heir!—and even been to his cabin. You must be more forthcoming, my darling. Don’t you see that we’re all dying to know if there is romance in the air?”

  “Romance?” Crissy paused dramatically, took a bite of her salad, then shook her head. “No,” she finally said.

  Monika’s face fell, and she fingered the rings on one hand nervously, turning them this way and that. “How disappointing,” she said. “Are you certain? I don’t think he would have asked you to dinner unless he was extremely interested in you.” She looked around the table as if seeking confirmation of what she’d said.

  “Maybe Crissy is not so interested in him,” Mina said.

  Monika looked at her. “Can that be true? That you aren’t interested in one of the most eligible bachelors in all of Europe?”

  “No,” Crissy said. “I mean, no, I’m not particularly interested in him.”

/>   “You are being very stupid,” Monika pronounced. “I thought you were a much more sensible young lady than that.”

  “I can’t simply manufacture feelings,” Crissy retorted. “Certainly not romantic ones. You should know that, Monika, being a romance novelist.”

  “True enough,” Monika said, “but I should think you would give him some consideration. It’s that young Italian doctor, isn’t it? He’s caught your eye, hasn’t he?”

  Crissy wanted to confide in someone about her involvement with Luca. She wanted to shout it from the rooftops, in fact, but this was neither the time nor place. Nor, she thought, was Monika the person.

  “I like him,” she finally said to Monika. “The doctor, I mean. But he has nothing to do with Mark Vilos. I just don’t click with Mark, and I’m not going to force it.”

  “You don’t ‘click’ with him,” Monika mimicked. “How extraordinary. And you ‘click’, as you say, with the doctor?”

  “I guess you could say that,” she said, “but I don’t really want to talk about it.”

  Monika glanced about the table again, this time as if to confirm that Crissy was being a difficult young woman. “Well,” she finally said in a disappointed voice, “I’m surprised by you.” Then she abruptly brightened and reached over and gently squeezed Crissy’s arm. “But I love you nevertheless.” She smiled charmingly.

  “Oh, Monika,” Crissy said. “You are . . . some lady.” She kissed her cheek impulsively. “And I’m so glad I met you.” She looked around the table. “I’m glad I met all of you.”

  “And we’re glad to have met you,” Rudy said. Mina nodded, and old Dr. Von Meckling stared at her appreciatively.

  They had finished the salad course when Jenny arrived, drawing a great deal of attention. In one of her signature animal prints with a plunging neckline, a back cut just below the top of her buttocks, and slits up both sides, she was once again barely, if very expensively, dressed. Dangling from her ears and hanging around her neck was a small fortune in precious and semiprecious gemstones set in gold. “Hi, everybody,” she said enthusiastically. “Sorry I’m late, but I took my clothes and everything and went up to the spa for a massage. Got dressed there.”