Santa Cruise

by Fern Michaels

“Thank you,” Peter said, and addressed the rest of the table after glancing at the menu. “Specials? I cannot imagine what could be missing.”

  “My mouth is watering.” Nina’s voice was heard behind the huge menu. “Creamed spinach. Stuffed baked potatoes. And look at all the meat selections.”

  Comments and murmurs about the cuts of beef, chops, and a large selection of shellfish went around the table.

  The waitress appeared and asked if they wanted to start with a cocktail. They agreed on wine instead. Peter asked for the wine list. A few moments later, a sommelier appeared. “Anything in particular you prefer, sir?”

  Peter lowered his menu to ask the women what they wanted. Amy wanted white but the rest preferred a pinot noir or a cabernet sauvignon with their meal. He ordered a modestly priced bottle of Meiomi, which he intended to pay for as a thank-you to the women for including him. He knew that one bottle wouldn’t be enough for five people. That would equal a glass per person, so he instructed the sommelier to have another one ready when the main course was served.

  The specials were surf and turf, or a three-pound lobster stuffed with crabmeat.

  They ordered appetizers of shrimp cocktail, little-neck clams, grilled octopus, and escargots. Amy ordered the lobster and the others opted for different cuts of beef.

  The conversation was lively as they shared ideas as to what they wanted to do and see in each port. Several minutes later, the appetizers were brought out.

  “Shopping,” Nina said. “Everywhere.”

  “Snorkeling and petting a stingray in Grand Cayman,” was Amy’s contribution.

  “I want to visit the ruins in Cozumel,” Frankie added. “Also the ruins in Belize City. They’re both from the Mayan civilization. Actually, it’s only about an eight-hour drive from Belize City to Cozumel.”

  Rachael looked at Peter. “What do you have planned?”

  “Fishing in Grand Cayman. Maybe some cave tubing or kayaking,” he replied.

  “I saw that there are several helicopter tours. One goes to Lighthouse Reef in Belize. It’s the place that Jacques Cousteau said had the most beautiful reefs in the world,” Amy added.

  “Helicopter? Not for me,” Marilyn said. “Maybe the Butterfly Botanical Gardens in Cozumel. I also want to see the San Gervasio ruins, where women paid tribute to the goddess of love and fertility. Clearly, I’m past the fertility part, but the love aspect might come in handy. After all, that’s why my kids sent me on this trip.” She laughed. “I’d also like to go to Tulum.”

  “I may take the chocolate tour in Cozumel,” Rachael added. “Although I want to do some horseback riding on Grand Cayman.”

  “There sure are a lot of things to do. Too bad we’re only going to be in each port for one day,” Amy said.

  “That’s the nature of these trips. Get as much in as possible.” Peter swirled the last of the wine in his glass and motioned for the next bottle to be served. He excused himself and went toward the back of the restaurant, where he pulled the waitress aside, then quickly returned as the servers brought the gigantic platters of the main courses to the table.

  “I’m so glad we decided to do this instead of eating in the main dining room.” Frankie cut into her meat. Perfectly cooked.

  “Yes. Thank you for suggesting it and including me,” Marilyn said. “I was dreading entering the main dining room alone. I travel all over the world and never have a problem going out to dinner myself or eating in the hotel restaurant, but there is something . . .” She hesitated for a moment, and Frankie jumped in.

  “Intimidating!”

  “That’s the word of the day, so it seems.” Peter grinned.

  “I’m glad we formed our own posse. We can check out the main dining room tomorrow night. We’ll be able to sit together and not be ‘intimidated.’ ” Nina used air quotes.

  “I think there are going to be a few activities in the main dining room tomorrow night. Speed dating. I think.” Amy was digging into the lobster claws with the small seafood fork. She looked up and caught the waitress’s eye and mouthed, “More butter, please.”

  “Speed dating.” Marilyn mused. “That’s something I haven’t tried yet.”

  “You may not want to,” Nina interjected.

  “Oh, stop,” Rachael said. “We’re here to have fun. Besides, who knows what kind of comic relief material Nina can glean for the script.”

  “Excellent point,” Nina said. “I will be taking copious notes.”

  “Tell me. How does it work?” Marilyn asked.

  Frankie explained. “Depending on how many people participate, hopefully an equal number of men and women.” She chuckled. “Everyone gets a card with numbers that correspond to a table number. Say there are twenty tables. There is one woman per table with an empty chair opposite her. The men take a seat at any of the tables. But before it begins, everyone is handed a card. If there are twenty tables, there are twenty numbered lines on the card. The cards are for you to take notes and check off one of the boxes that say Interested to meet: as a friend; as a business associate; as a date. The women do the same thing. If you’re not interested in a person at all, you just leave that line blank. It’s first names only. Then the host starts a timer. Usually ten minutes. So, you have ten minutes to talk to the person. A bell rings, and the men move on to the next table. At the end of the event, the coordinators tally the scorecards and inform everyone about who wants to see them again and under what circumstances.”

  “What if no one wants to see you again?” Marilyn asked. “I’d hate to get back a bunch of blanks.” She looked a bit dismayed.

  “That hardly ever happens. Someone is going to want to spend time with you on one of those levels. The good part is you get to decide if you want to pursue a connection.”

  “Let me see if I have this correct.” Marilyn retraced Frankie’s explanation. “I meet twenty men. I make a note as to who I want to see again and under what heading. Friend. Business. Date.”

  “So far, so good.” Frankie nodded.

  “Then someone gives me a tally of who wants to meet me again under those same conditions. But what if they want a date, and I only want a friend?”

  “That’s up to you. If you differ on any of those boxes I would say ‘Run’!” Frankie exclaimed.

  “I take it you’ve done it before?” Marilyn said to Frankie.

  “We all have,” Rachael gushed. “Obviously, it didn’t work out for any of us, but it’s worth the fun. Especially the gossip afterward.” She hooted.

  “One time I met a very nice man who told me he was a doctor,” Amy confessed. “I thought he was nice, but I only wanted to interact with him again as a business associate. Unfortunately, he wanted to date me. I explained as gently as I could that I didn’t want to pursue a relationship with him, and he claimed he understood and business associate was fine with him.” Amy shook her head. “Some people will tell you anything to get to where they want to go. Anyway, we met for coffee, and he brought me a red rose. The ‘Danger! Danger!’ alarm went off in my head. Once again, I explained that it was a lovely gesture, but I was not interested in pursuing a relationship.” Amy dug out another piece of lobster meat and plopped it in her mouth.

  “Then what happened?” Peter was also enthralled with the story.

  Amy swallowed and wiped the melted butter from her chin. “He sent me an e-card with valentine hearts.”

  “I guess he didn’t get the message the first two times,” Peter said. “The guy couldn’t take a hint.”

  “Correct. I had to block him.” Amy cracked a claw to emphasize the word “block.” “I know it sounds mean, but he clearly wasn’t getting it.”

  “He was probably hoping you would change your mind,” Peter said thoughtfully.

  “Not a chance.” Amy scooped out more lobster meat. “It was starting to creep me out.”

  “Don’t you think it would be awkward if I wanted to see someone again, and he didn’t?” Marilyn asked. “The ship isn’t that big.”


  “Awkward-schmawkward.” Rachael wiggled her shoulders. “I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. There are plenty of men who would want to be in your company.”

  “What makes you say that?” Marilyn was curious.

  “I noticed a few men looking at you when we were walking through the atrium.” Rachael smirked and nodded.

  “Rachael has man-dar,” Frankie joked.

  “Man-dar?” Marilyn looked confused.

  “Man. Radar. Man-dar.” Nina took the lead. “Rachael has always been, shall I say, fascinated by the opposite sex to an inordinate degree.”

  Rachael wasn’t going to let the Rachael is man-crazy train leave the station without having something to say about it.

  “Marilyn. Don’t let these women give you the wrong impression of me,” Rachael said with an air of confidence. “I’ve made it my hobby to find out what makes the opposite sex tick. As much as possible.” She turned to Peter. “Don’t misunderstand me. Suffice it to say I have had a number of experiences and feel as if I can read their body language.”

  “Especially if they’re all over your body!” Amy guffawed and almost choked on a piece of her lobster.

  “Ignore her,” Rachael said calmly. “I am not a trollop. I’ve dated.”

  “A lot,” Frankie said, taking her turn. “Rachael’s life has been an ongoing speed-dating event.”

  Nina inadvertently spit her water across the table. Peter roared. Amy stopped midchew. Marilyn hooted.

  Rachael looked up at the ceiling and shook her head. “Do you see what I have to put up with?”

  “It’s all in good fun,” Frankie offered. “Rachael is an easy mark for poking fun.”

  Amy was starting to giggle uncontrollably. “Poke?”

  “Ladies. Get your minds out of the gutter.” Frankie feigned a reprimand. “We have other guests at our table.”

  Peter was trying to control his amusement. Marilyn wasn’t sure which way the conversation was going.

  Frankie tried to calm the jokes and laughter for a moment.

  “Seriously. We love Rachael. And we love to tease her. We love to tease each other. Really.”

  “You ladies are a hoot.” Peter took another bite of the rib-eye on his plate.

  “You’re a good sport, Rachael.” Marilyn lifted her wineglass in a toast. “I’ll follow your man-dar advice.”

  The conversation around the table wound down to small talk about other places they had traveled. Favorite locales. Worst trip. Best trip.

  “Here’s to this being on the list of ‘Best Trips.’ ” Peter held his glass up in a toast. “Cheers.”

  “Hear! Hear!”

  “Cin cin!”

  “¡Salud!”

  “Cent’ anni!”

  “Has anyone decided if they are going to participate in any of this evening’s activities?” Marilyn asked.

  “Nina and I are going to the dart tournament,” Peter announced.

  “I’m thinking about the class with Henry Dugan,” Rachael said impishly.

  “I might do trivia,” Amy answered.

  “You’ll beat the pants off everyone,” Frankie stated with a laugh. “You have an unfair advantage.”

  “What advantage?” Marilyn queried.

  “She’s a genius,” Nina said smoothly. “Graduated top ten in her class at MIT. She has a PhD in bioengineering.”

  “That is impressive,” Marilyn responded, and chuckled. “I guess I’ll be skipping that.”

  “If they allow teams, you can be my teammate,” Amy offered.

  “A ringer, eh?” Peter joked.

  “Shhhh . . .” Frankie whispered. “We don’t want people to know all of our secret weapons.”

  Peter smiled. “Right. Man-dar. Genius.” He turned to Frankie. “What is your special talent?”

  “I’m the ‘pushy-planner-lady.’ Also known as ‘Miss Bossy Pants.’”

  “Yeah, but that’s not a secret.” Rachael got her digs in and stuck out her tongue.

  “I’m an open book,” Frankie said. “Why not? I work with enough of them.” She chuckled at her own pun.

  “Oh, I think there has to be some mystery in there, too, no?” Peter quizzed her.

  “Hmmm. I think he’s got you on that one,” Nina interjected.

  “And Nina is a comedian,” Frankie quipped back.

  “That’s no big secret either,” Amy said innocently. “She was on Family Blessings.” Then she realized she had outed Nina.

  “Oh jeez. I’m sorry, Nina.”

  “I thought you looked familiar.” Marilyn eyed her. “But then I thought you probably get ‘You know who you look like?’ a lot.”

  “I do get that a lot.” Nina chortled. “And I usually respond with, ‘Really? No one has ever said that before.’ ”

  “See. Comedian.” Amy pointed the last piece of lobster at Nina.

  “That’s terrific,” Marilyn added. “But I didn’t watch the show very often.”

  Nina smiled. “Probably never, right? But that’s OK. To be honest, if I weren’t in it, I wouldn’t watch it either. Not my best work, even though it’s my best-known work.”

  “Nina is an exceptionally fine actress. She did a lot of theater in high school and college. Moved to LA and got the job in the show,” Frankie explained.

  “Let’s not forget that awful zombie movie I was in. Not my best work either.”

  “Don’t be so modest. You made an excellent zombie.” Rachael cackled.

  “You’re quite an interesting group.” Peter folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against his chair.

  “We warned you.” Frankie smiled.

  “You did indeed.”

  Everyone had devoured the last morsel on their plates. “Can I interest anyone in dessert?” the waitress asked.

  Groans went around the table. “Does everyone have an activity?” Frankie asked.

  “See. Bossy Pants.” Rachael elbowed Peter.

  “Amy, Marilyn. I’ll go with you to trivia; Nina and Peter, darts; Rachael is going to harass the dance instructor.”

  The women gave her sloppy salutes. “Aye-aye, Captain.”

  “Should we meet in the Stargazer Lounge afterward?” Frankie asked.

  “Pushy-Planner.” Rachael nodded and poked Peter again.

  “I think the games are officially over at eleven, but the piano bar and disco are open until midnight. The lounge is open until two.” Amy recited the schedule.

  “See. Genius.” Rachael went to elbow Peter, but this time he saw it coming.

  He chuckled. “I’m going to be black-and-blue tomorrow.”

  He began to rise from the table, assisting the women out of their chairs. “I hope you don’t mind. Some women get offended.”

  Sounds of “Are you kidding?” “Being polite is never a bad thing.” “I appreciate it,” went around the table.

  Frankie hesitated. “What about the check?”

  “It’s been taken care of,” Peter said mildly, and showed the women out.

  “That was lovely of you. And generous. Thank you.” Marilyn was the first to speak.

  Frankie stopped herself from saying, “Oh, you didn’t have to do that.” An acknowledgment of appreciation was more warranted. Why diminish the gesture with any other comment but one of thanks? She followed instead with, “Yes, Peter. That was wonderful. Thank you very much.”

  Words of gratitude came from Amy, Rachael, and Nina. Frankie thought they could all learn a little something from Marilyn. Even each other.

  “OK. Everyone. You have your orders. See you in the lounge around eleven thirty.” More wimpy salutes were aimed at Frankie.

  * * *

  As predicted, Amy was tearing up the scoreboard for the trivia game. There were about thirty people playing, three per team. Each team would pick a card from a barrel. If they answered correctly, they would get a point. The teams would rotate ten times. The team with the most points at the end won a five-hundred-dollar gift card to be use
d at any of the shops on the ship.

  By the fifth round, people were either moaning or cheering for Amy’s team. Frankie thought she saw two men placing side bets.

  Amy’s team got all of the answers right, with Frankie and Marilyn contributing on a couple of them. They shrieked in delight when they were handed the gift card, and several men offered to buy them drinks. Frankie muttered, “That’s one way to get attention. Play trivia with a genius.”

  “We have time for one.” Frankie looked at her watch and gave Amy and Marilyn a look that said, Don’t you dare call me Bossy Pants in front of these guys.

  Two of the men motioned for a cocktail waitress to come over. “Prosecco, please,” Frankie said.

  “Me, also,” Amy added.

  “Yes, for me as well.” Marilyn nodded.

  The men introduced themselves. They were from Milwaukee. Jeff was a regional manager for one of the big box store chains, and Steve was an insurance adjuster. Perfectly nice gentlemen, but they wouldn’t pass the chemistry that would be needed under the mistletoe. It seemed as if many of the passengers were there for the same reason, and not necessarily to find true love. Relaxing on a cruise to exotic places and not feeling like a fifth wheel. Everyone was in the same relationship-status boat. Literally.

  * * *

  Rachael was all atwitter when she entered the small ballroom. She had been a fan of Henry Dugan ever since she could remember. He created a style of dancing that incorporated jazz moves with ballet. He called it “jazzalett.” Everyone thought he was doing the other a disservice. But he felt that if it got more people to dance, then all the better. He was also proficient in every dance technique.

  There were only a dozen people in the room. Ten were women. She didn’t want to make a spectacle of herself. For real. So she changed her mind about faking out the instructor.

  Rachael approached Henry. “Maestro Dugan. It is an honor to meet you. My name is Rachael Newmark.”

  “Good evening, Ms. Newmark. Thank you for joining me this evening. Tell me, do you dance?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. I have a studio in Ridgewood. Salon La Dance.”

  He clasped her hands. “How fantastic.” He had a hint of an Irish accent. “What is it that you teach?”