Santa Cruise

by Fern Michaels

  “I’m going to take it slow.” Amy leaned back on the bed. “I have a lot to do between now and summer. I want to take a month off to move, get settled.”

  “And I’m willing to bet Peter will help you unpack.” Frankie reached down and helped Amy up. “Come on. You have someone to invite to dinner.” She gave her a pat on the butt and shoved her out the door. Getting Peter to agree to sit with them at dinner was easy. Frankie phoned the maître d’ and requested a table for nine. She was sure Henry would want to join his star pupil and her zany gang. After she made the reservation, she phoned Henry’s stateroom and extended the invitation. As predicted, he was very happy to join them.

  The day passed quickly, and the women began their ritual of hair and makeup. Then the outfits and accessories.

  Nina was the first to start knocking on everyone’s door. “Ready?” Amy popped out, wearing a deep purple jumpsuit trimmed in pink. It matched her hair perfectly. Rachael wore a jumpsuit with a large watermelon pattern. Nina said she looked like a walking fruit bowl. Rachael smiled at the joke. Frankie donned a cobalt-blue halter maxi dress, and Nina was dressed in an emerald-green Asian-print kimono over black leggings and a black tank. They were as colorful as the flora and fauna of the places they had visited.

  A cocktail party in the grand foyer was first on the agenda. The captain moved halfway up the grand staircase for his opening remarks. “Ladies and gentlemen. It has been our pleasure to have had the opportunity to serve you. I want to thank my committed and exceptional crew.” Applause filled the space. In the wink of an eye, the sound of hands clapping to a rhythm, voices, and a guitar starting “Uptown Funk” by Bruno Mars filled the room. The dance troupe carefully made its way down the stairs, with Rachael pulling the last strand of the mistletoe with her. Once the troupe reached the main floor, they finished their moves to deafening applause. When it had quieted down, Captain Sideris continued. He raised his glass of champagne. “Here’s to good health, prosperity, and happiness to everyone! Salute!” He took a sip. “One more thing, I’m going to miss those dancers!” More hoots came from the passengers, then they slowly made their way to the main dining room.

  Frankie took over as the push-planning lady and directed people to their seats. She wanted it to be as balanced as possible. There were four men, five women, and an empty chair. Maybe someone would be brave enough to sit with them.

  A man around William’s age approached the table. “Is anyone sitting here?” he politely asked.

  “You are.” Frankie smiled and indicated for him to sit. “You realize you’re with a rowdy bunch, correct?”

  “Oh yes, I’ve seen some of you in action. Name is Gregory Maynard. Nice to meet you all.”

  They all introduced themselves, giving him their first name and where they came from. The waiter walked around the table with a bottle of red in one hand and a bottle of white in the other. Lots of friendly chatter followed. Several courses were served while a dance band played softly. When dessert was served, the band began to pick up the sound and the pace, encouraging people to dance. William and Marilyn were the first on the dance floor.

  “Well, lookie there,” Nina addressed Amy. “Your father seems to be having a good time.”

  “I cannot tell you how thrilled I am for him.”

  “And Marilyn didn’t do so badly herself,” Nina added.

  Peter leaned back in his chair. “I’d like to propose a toast. He raised his glass. “To the kookiest bunch of women I have ever had the pleasure to literally bump into.” Echoes of cheers and the clinking of glasses followed.

  William and Marilyn returned to the table, both a little out of breath. “I’m a little rusty.” William panted. He didn’t quite get the joke until Amy burst out laughing.

  “You are nothing like Rusty,” Frankie exclaimed, bringing more laughs to those who knew the Rusty story. She apologized to the rest of the guests. “Inside joke.” With that, Frankie stood and began saying her farewells to everyone except her gal pals. She gave everyone hugs, reminding them that if they wanted their bags taken off the ship by crew members, they would have to be tagged and sitting outside the stateroom door before midnight.

  Amy spent a few more minutes with her father, promising to spend time with him before she started her new job.

  Henry and Rachael stayed behind for one last dance before the music ended.

  Nina and Richard went for their final stroll on the deck, making plans to get together as soon as she moved back to Ridgewood. In the meantime, they would stay in touch via text, e-mail, Zoom.

  When Frankie returned to her stateroom, she unlocked the safe, packed her valuables in her tote, and checked her phone again. She hadn’t erased the text from Giovanni. She didn’t know why. There was another text from the publisher, asking Frankie to call her ASAP. She checked her watch. It was ten thirty. Why would the publisher want to speak to her on New Year’s Day? It would have to wait until the morning. Especially if she was getting fired.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Port of Miami

  The day of debarkation is often chaotic. Bags are hauled, people are scrambling to finish filling out their customs forms and questioning what they need to do next. The cruise director had sent instructions to all the passengers the day before, but there are always a dozen or so people who remain in a state of confusion. Fortunately for the women, Frankie was on top of it.

  Bags with their colored tags waited outside their staterooms. The color of the tags determined what time the passengers could leave the ship and go through customs and immigration.

  Several hours later, they were finally off the ship and away from the pier, with all their suitcases and carry-ons in a cluster waiting for a van large enough to haul the baggage to the airport. They had been able to book flights within an hour of each other, so they could keep each other company. When they reached Miami International, they went through the laborious security check and found a restaurant to grab a bite to eat.

  When they settled into the booth, Rachael ordered her lunch in Spanish.

  “Hey. I just realized you hardly used any Spanish when we were on the cruise. You were too busy flashing, I mean flash-mobbing.” Amy chuckled at her slip of the tongue.

  “I was busy.” Rachael winked. “And distracted.”

  “Henry is a very lovely person,” Nina said.

  “He is.” Rachael had an intriguing expression on her face.

  “I know that look.” Frankie glanced over at her. “What’s up?”

  “Henry invited me to have dinner with him at Eleven Madison Park.”

  “Fancy,” Frankie noted. It was a block away from her apartment.

  “What’s the occasion?” Nina asked innocently.

  “He said it was to thank me for making the cruise one of the liveliest he’s been on. We’re going to meet with the foundation directors in the afternoon,” Rachael explained.

  “Sounds like a date to me.” Nina raised her eyebrows.

  “He’s twelve years older than I am,” Rachael squawked.

  “When has that ever stopped you?” Frankie burst out laughing.

  “Good point.” Rachael took a sip of her soda. “We shall see. And to tell you the truth, while it would be nice to date a sensitive and successful man, I am thrilled just to be working with him.”

  The women nodded in agreement. Frankie turned to Amy. “And what about Peter?”

  “He said he would help me unpack my stuff, but obviously I need to find a place to live first. I hope I can get faculty housing, but if not, I’m sure I’ll find something suitable for me, Blinky, and Hop-Along.”

  “Nina?” Frankie eyed her friend. “Richard?”

  “I think I like him. Like, really, really like him,” Nina confessed, with their old high-school declaration.

  “Yay.” Amy clapped her hands. “See. Aren’t you glad you went over and spoke to him that first night?”

  “I am. And it wasn’t even because I was interested in pursuing him; I ju
st didn’t want him to think we were laughing at his socks. Which, by the way, were very cute.” Nina took a bite of her sandwich, hoping to end the interrogation.

  “We’re not done with you yet,” Rachael pried. “You’re going to see him again, correct?”

  “Correct. As soon as I get settled. Happy?” She took another bite.

  “Yep.” Amy clapped again. Then she realized Frankie was the only one who didn’t have a possible date on the horizon. Frankie, the one who’d planned the entire trip. “Frankie, I don’t know if I’ve said it enough, but thank you so much for suggesting this trip, planning this trip, and being our cheerleader.”

  Frankie got a bit misty-eyed. “I am beyond thrilled that this turned out to be such an exciting adventure. I had never heard ‘Feliz Navidad’ played by a real mariachi band before.” Everyone chuckled. “Or ‘Jingle Bells.’ Seriously, Amy, Nina, you guys will be close by Rachael, you’ll be cha-cha-ing your way through a charitable effort.” She stopped suddenly and took a deep breath. “And I will be visualizing something for myself. It’s just a matter of time.” She knew she had to believe it in her heart of hearts. At that moment, she felt her phone vibrate in her jacket. She looked at the number and remembered she hadn’t called her publisher back. With all the confusion of disembarking, and the logistics of getting off the ship, getting a van, and checking in at the airport, it had slipped her mind. She held up a finger, reached in her pocket, and pulled out the pulsating device. “Hello?” she answered tentatively. She felt she was going to be read the riot act for not responding quickly enough.

  “Hello?” Frankie winced.

  “Frankie? It’s Dana. I sent you an e-mail last night but figured you might not have gotten it. Wi-Fi and all that stuff.”

  “Hey, Dana. What’s up?” Frankie moved on without addressing the e-mail.

  “Well, as you know there have been negotiations to merge us with another publishing house. The deal has gone through and will be finalized in the next few weeks. Because of this, they are also merging departments.”

  Frankie closed her eyes and anticipated the worst. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

  Whispers of concern from her friends were in the background, mixed with calls for flights and gates.

  “The good news is that they are also establishing a line of authentic cookbooks. Family recipes. No celebrities.”

  “That’s refreshing. No divas.” Frankie tried to act relaxed.

  “That’s why I’m calling you. They need someone to be in charge of development. I thought of you because of all the great work you’ve done with that category and how much of a foodie you are.”

  Frankie knitted her eyebrows as she glanced at her friends’ anxious faces.

  Dana continued. “Here’s the thing, Frankie. If you keep your position as head of marketing, you’ll be doing double the work for the same amount of pay. I know that stinks, but that’s how these big corporations make money. They eliminate jobs and balance the books, no pun intended, on the backs of the people in the trenches.”

  “Yes, I’ve been on that bus before.” Frankie knew exactly what Dana was talking about.

  “So, this is what I am suggesting. Take the job as Editorial Director, Product Development. You’ll still get paid the same, but it’s a new position, and you can drive that bus yourself. Obviously, you’ll have a budget, but you’ll be able to curate a list of original cookbooks. We don’t expect them to sell in huge numbers, but there is a market for authenticity minus the hype. You may remember the series Pinnacle had many years ago? Short volumes that can become part of a collection. Reasonable price points. Think about it, Frankie. I really would like you to lead that team.”

  “Dana. I am speechless. Imagine that? Me. Speechless.” Frankie snickered nervously.

  “I need an answer by tomorrow. Someone at the top has been making noises that they want to put one of their lackeys in that spot. I want someone who has a work ethic, experience, and good instincts. That would be you, Frankie.”

  Without hesitation, Frankie said, “Can I have a minute to think about it? OK. Yes.” She could barely contain herself. “Dana, this is an answer to my prayers. At least one of them. Thank you so much.”

  “You are very welcome. Thank you for taking it. I know it’s uncharted waters, but I know you can handle it.”

  “Thank you for your confidence in me.” She gave everyone a thumbs-up. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

  “My flight leaves in an hour, and I should be home by eight. Can I call you in the morning?” Frankie asked.

  “Absolutely. Call my cell, and we’ll arrange to have coffee. Oh, by the way, how was your vacation?”

  “I would have to label it as fabulous.” Frankie had tears running down her cheeks. “Talk tomorrow.” She hit the END button.

  “What was that all about?”

  “What’s going on?”

  “What prayers?”

  All three were talking at the same time.

  “I’ve been offered a new position. Developing a line of small cookbooks that are based on family recipes. Authentic recipes.”

  “Yippee,” Amy gushed. “That is so perfect for you.”

  Nina wrapped her arm around Frankie’s neck and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Bravo!”

  Rachael blinked several times. “We went on this cruise because we didn’t have dates, yet we came back with new opportunities in front of us.” She nodded at Nina. “And those of us who had no expectation of meeting someone, did. And he’s not a jerk. At least not that we know of.”

  Frankie held up her glass of sparkling water. “Here’s to the best gal-pal club ever.” They returned the sentiment in kind.

  An announcement for United Flight 1153 to Newark indicated that it would begin boarding in fifteen minutes at gate 105.

  “That’s us,” Rachael announced. She fished for her wallet and handed some cash to Amy. “This should cover my empanada.”

  She gathered her bags and did one last “coochie-coochie” for her friends.

  “Thank goodness. For a moment I thought there was going to be another flash-mob dance.” Nina howled.

  Lots of hugs, kisses, and promises to keep in touch as Frankie and Rachael moved on to their gate.

  Nina and Amy still had another hour before their flights to California took off. They decided to order a glass of wine and wait in the restaurant.

  * * *

  Four hours later, Frankie was in a taxi on her way to her apartment. She fished her keys out of her tote and pulled her phone out again. No new messages. But the one from Giovanni was still there. It was time to erase it.

  The first thing she saw when she entered her apartment was her big kitty, Bandit, waiting on the desk in the foyer. His meow could have woken the neighborhood. Frankie picked up her furry friend and nuzzled and kissed him all over the top of his head. A few minutes of that, and Bandit was ready to be unhanded. He wanted to know what was in those big things she had carted in. He began sniffing her luggage. Frankie bent over to give him another pet. “No catnip, pal. Sorry.” When she stood, she noticed a vase with flowers and a note.

  Welcome home, Francesca. I hope you had a wonderful vacation.

  If you are not busy, would you please have dinner with me Saturday night at Marco’s?

  Frankie tapped the note against her thumb. What could this be about? She checked her watch. Marco’s was still open. She hit the speed-dial button. “Marco’s. Buonasera!” Marco sounded jovial.

  “Marco. Come stai?” Frankie’s voice echoed his cheerfulness.

  “Molto bene! You have a nice vacation? We missed you.” Marco sounded sincere.

  “I had a wonderful time.”

  “Very happy for you. What can I get you tonight?”

  “I’m not calling for food, actually. I wanted to thank Giovanni for taking such good care of Bandit. I don’t think he even missed me.”

  “Giovanni or Bandit?” Marco teased.

  She wished she had the answer
to that question, so she chuckled instead.

  “You know, since Giovanni returned from Italy, he’s been a little, how do you say, melancholia?”

  “Melancholy?” Frankie asked.

  “Sì. He and his fiancée ended their engagement.”

  Frankie had to sit down for this information. “Oh? What happened?” She pressed her head firmly into the phone, as if it would help her hear him better.

  “You see, he had been engaged to Marcella for many years. It was something her family wanna, but they didn’t wanna her to live in America. Giovanni doesn’t wanna to live in Italy. They go back and forth for a-long-a time. This-a time, he said ‘no more.’ There had never been no amore between them, so he say ‘enough.’ ”

  “Was it mutual?” Frankie was trying not to pry, but she just had to know.

  “Sì. They both-a knew it was for the best. But you know, the holidays. People get emotivo, emotional.”

  “Yes, they do.” Frankie understood exactly what he meant.

  “Is he around, so I can thank him?”

  “He’s-a no here, but I give him a message.”

  “Tell him thank you, and that I will be happy to have dinner with him on Saturday.” She stopped in her tracks. What if Marco didn’t know about the invitation?

  “Molto bene!” Marco was genuinely excited. “You will sit at the best table. As always.”

  Based on his reaction, Frankie sensed Marco knew something about the invitation. “Do you know what time he had in mind?”

  “Eight o’clock?”

  “Molto bene,” Frankie answered affirmatively in Italian. See you then. Ciao, Marco!”

  Frankie was glad she had brought back a box of Cuban cigars. She didn’t know if Giovanni smoked them, but most men seem to like having them around. Must be a guy thing. She had also bought a smaller box of cigars for Marco and a bottle of perfume for Anita. Too often people think about the baby, and not how hard the mother has to work from inception to age whatever.