by Julie Cannon
“I own a business.” It was the same reason I’d used for years. “I can’t just up and leave anytime I want. Not to mention the cost to travel to wherever you are.” I shifted my gaze from Victoria to my parents. The look on my father’s face told me that was not a smart thing to say. This was the same tired argument we had every time we got together.
“You know, planes fly both ways,” I said for the first time. I was fed up with being held to a double standard.
My mother shot me daggers, while Victoria sat back and waited for the fireworks. It didn’t take long.
“Don’t speak to your mother like that,” my father said quietly yet effectively.
“I’m not being disrespectful. I’m just stating a fact. You two are retired and have more money than God. Nothing’s stopping you from visiting me.”
“In Arizona?” My mother asked the question like we still had outdoor toilets and Indians roaming the dusty streets.
“Yes, Mother. Phoenix is the fifth largest city in the country. We have outstanding museums, the arts, five-star resorts, and fabulous places to eat.” My mother wore an expression that said she’d rather go to Walmart than to where I lived. When did she get like this? Or had I just noticed?
Faith approached, our meals on a large round serving platter discouraging any future conversation on this topic. At least until she was out of earshot. One never talked about family issues in front of the help.
***
My hands were shaking as I picked up the plates from under the warming lights. I hadn’t allowed myself to think about the woman at table six until I sent the meal to the kitchen. I took a moment to gather my thoughts and pull myself together. So, she was definitely one of the Carter girls. However, girl wasn’t really the right word. She was a grown woman and, most definitely, a lesbian, and her name was Lowe. What an interesting name, but then again, she looked like an equally interesting woman. I knew there was more than a slight chance I’d run into her again. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.
Lowe Carter was nothing like her other family members at the table. They barely paid any attention to me when I interacted with them, whatever job I had. I wondered how long I could stand at the end of their table before they even acknowledged my presence this afternoon. But not Lowe. She did more than say hello. She actually looked at me, and her greeting had turned from polite to appraising to indicating definite interest.
I don’t think I’m beautiful, but a few heads have turned my way over the years. Yet I have to admit my reaction to the look in Lowe’s eyes was totally unexpected. It took my breath away. They were so expressive I wanted to crawl inside and disappear into their mystery. It was obvious she was interested, but I had found long ago that first impressions can be very wrong and short-lived. However, that’s usually the first thing I notice about someone—their eyes. I took a deep breath and exited into the dining room.
I sensed tension at the table when I returned with their lunch. Nothing was said as I placed the orders on the table in front of the family. I didn’t bother to look at Lowe’s parents or sister. What was the point? I did, however, glance at Lowe and had the same reaction I’d had the other times I saw her. My stomach fluttered, and I imagined things I shouldn’t be thinking about when carrying plates of hot food. After getting everything settled, I felt Lowe’s eyes on me as I walked away. I had to focus so I wouldn’t stumble.
I wasn’t any more or any less attentive to their table than I was with any others in my section, but I was so aware of being in the same room with Lowe I almost overfilled the coffee cup at table twelve.
My relief tapped me on my shoulder, and I jumped.
“Sorry, Faith. I thought you heard me.”
I was standing in front of the prep counter in the kitchen daydreaming about Lowe.
“Sorry, Barb. What did you say?”
“I said things have slowed down, so let’s hand off.”
Barb was referring to the process we went through as we transitioned the servicing of our tables to the next shift. It took ten minutes to make the rounds of my tables, saving the Carters’ for last. They were just finishing their meal and barely acknowledged Barb and me. To them, one server was the same as another. The very visible exception was Lowe. I hustled away, leaving Barb to close them out, and was just about to push open the door to the back room, when I heard my name. I turned around and looked up into the bright-blue eyes of Lowe Carter.
“I want to apologize for my family’s rude behavior,” she said, nodding in their direction.
Standing in front of Lowe I realized she was quite a bit taller than me. Flashing on the anticipation of her slowly leaning down to kiss me, I felt a little dizzy and had to stop myself from swaying towards her.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I was lying.
“Please,” Lowe said, rolling her eyes. “They’re rude, boorish, and ill behaved.”
“Then why are you apologizing for them?” She seemed to be taken aback by my question.
“Because I don’t want you to think I’m like them.”
“It really doesn’t matter what I think, Ms. Carter. Your parents are residents on the Escape.”
“But that doesn’t give them the right to be rude. And what you think matters to me.”
Lowe looked like she’d just stepped off a cliff into a dark abyss.
“That’s kind of you Ms. Carter, but—”
“Please, call me Lowe.”
“That’s kind of you,” I said, resisting the familiarity she’d granted me. It would help me to maintain distance. “But not necessary.”
“Would you have coffee with me?” Lowe asked suddenly, looking surprised that she had. “Please. It’ll be my chance to atone for my parents.”
“Atone?” I felt several pairs of eyes on us. Lowe chuckled, and my mouth went dry while other parts got wet.
“The best I can come up with at the spur of the moment,” she said sheepishly, and my stomach fluttered.
“Would you have used a more practiced line otherwise?”
“No. I don’t use lines,” Lowe said simply.
I looked at her for a long moment before saying something equally surprising. “No, I don’t believe you would.” How I knew that was a mystery. Wishful thinking? Gut instinct, maybe? “I’ll be free in about ten minutes.”
Lowe’s smile lit up her face. “Meet you at The Cuppa?” Lowe asked, referring to the coffee shop one deck up.
Lowe wouldn’t make a good poker player, her expression saying it all. I, however, had learned to disguise my emotions. At least outwardly.
“Make it twenty.”
Chapter Four
I ran. No way in hell was I was going to sit across from Lowe Carter smelling like food. My cabin was on the opposite side of the ship and down at least half a dozen flights of stairs. I was naked before I hit the shower, which is not difficult because of the size of my place. In one minute, I was soaking wet and completely dry five minutes later. Luckily, I’d done my laundry yesterday, so my favorite, most flattering jeans were hanging in my tiny closet, along with the dark-brown, capped-sleeve T-shirt that brought out the color of my eyes. My hair was still a little damp, so I pulled it up on top of my head and clamped it in place with a large clip. A little mascara, lip gloss, and I had six minutes to get to The Cuppa.
The coffee shop was on deck eight just outside the movie theater. It was built like any other coffee shop/café, with a large front counter flanking the far wall with several high-top tables with stools featuring thick-cushioned seats. Six other tables sat against the large floor-to-ceiling windows. The Cuppa served breakfast and lunch and had a display case of yummy snacks and treats, which I had a hard time staying away from.
With ninety seconds to spare I used the time to catch my breath before I met Lowe. I approached from the side and saw her sitting at a table for two on the outside patio. She was angled away from me, and I was able to study her for a few moments. She
had a strong profile, the muscles in her jaw working as if she was chewing a piece of gum. She was wearing sunglasses against the midday glare, and I was glad I’d thought to grab mine as I ran out the door. She was drumming her fingers rhythmically on the table top. Was she inpatient for me to arrive? A girl could wish.
She must’ve sensed me watching her because she suddenly turned my way. She stood, pulled off her sunglasses, and motioned me over. She even held my chair as I sat down, which I found gallant and charming. The sun was warm on my back, a light breeze blowing my hair.
“Right on time,” she said, sitting beside me, hiding her eyes behind her Ray-Bans.
“You sound surprised.” I was glad my voice didn’t betray my nerves.
“In my experience, when a woman says twenty minutes, she means thirty or forty.”
“I could go away and stand over there if you’d like?” I said, teasing, and pointed to a potted plant on the other side of the patio.
“No. Absolutely not necessary.” Lowe smiled. “It’s refreshing, and I’ll keep that in mind about you. What would you like?”
“Just a plain black coffee.” She looked at me, evidently surprised. “What?”
“No caramel, macchiato, double latte, sweet, no-fat, extra whip?”
“No. Just plain black coffee.”
“You’re a woman after my own heart.” She put her hand over her heart.
I almost mimicked her action, but I would’ve done it to stop mine from hammering out of my chest.
“Not hardly. I just have plain, simple tastes.”
“I don’t mean to sound like a cliché, but I don’t see anything plain or simple about you.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“Then I’ll get our coffee and we’ll start to remedy that situation. Hold my seat. I’ll be right back.”
Lowe hurried to the counter and placed our order, then turned around and smiled at me again. I was glad I was sitting down because I got all tingly all over this time. She’d replaced her white T-shirt with a bright-red tank top, and the color suited her. The counter wasn’t busy, and it didn’t take long before she returned with two cups of coffee covered with bright-green lids.
“My turn to serve you,” she said, setting the cup on the table in front of me.
“And you’re doing a wonderful job.”
“Thanks, but I don’t think I could manage much more than this.” She grabbed a sugar packet and shook it.
“Oh, I don’t know. You look pretty capable to me.” I couldn’t resist giving her a once-over, liking what I saw.
“Thanks, but I don’t know how you do it. Especially with people like my parents.” She poured the packet into her cup and stirred it with a thin yellow straw.
“Practice.” Unfortunately, my response was far too true.
“I just don’t get it.” Lowe frowned, leaned back in her chair, and blew on her coffee to cool it. “I wonder if they were always like that or if I just noticed?”
“Does it matter?” It didn’t to me. It was my job, and with it came the good and the bad. I sipped my coffee, the hot liquid almost burning my tongue. I took off the lid to let some of the heat escape.
“Not that I have to experience it much, since I only see them once a year. But they are my family, and I don’t want people to think I’m like them.”
“That’s twice you’ve said that. Do you socialize with the same people?”
Lowe laughed, a sound like a melodic wind chime.
“Oh, right. That was a stupid question,” I said like a dummy. “They live here.” I raised my hands, palms up, indicating our current real estate.
“It wasn’t a stupid question.”
I knew otherwise. “Where do you live?” A stray few hairs tickled my face, so I brushed them back.
“Phoenix.”
“Arizona?” Lowe nodded as she sipped her coffee. “I’ve never been to Arizona.”
“Well, I’ve never been to Sydney, so I guess that makes us even. Where are you from?”
“Originally, Ipswich. It’s a little town in Suffolk, England.”
“Where is that relative to London?”
“About sixty miles northeast.”
“Big city? Small town?”
“Small town. I think in the last census it had around a hundred and fifty thousand people.”
My hometown had been one of the most important docks in English history. Today, it primarily stored dry bulk goods and all types of shipping containers, and it had slips for two hundred private boats at the Haven Marina. The Escape had docked in Ipswich after I hired on.
“I spent some time in Northampton.”
“When?” Northampton is about the size of Ipswich, located approximately seventy miles northwest of London.
“I was in high school. My parents thought it would be good for me to perform some type of community service.”
“To give back?”
“No. To look good on my college applications,” Lowe said with a hint of sarcasm.
I let that comment pass. “How did you like it?”
“Loved it. Actually, more than I thought I would. I went back three more times during the summers. Because of that experience, I give my employees sixteen hours of paid time off for volunteer work every year.”
“Really? What do you do?”
“Nothing sexy or glamorous, I’m afraid. I own some pack-and-ship franchises.”
“I love those places,” I said honestly. “There was one near my house growing up, and they had coldest soda machine.”
“In Ipswich?” It was Lowe’s turn to be stunned.
“No. I lived in Tampa for many years. My friends and I would stop on the way home from school. It was so hot, and they had a big red soda machine inside. I’d hold a can to the back of my neck to cool off. The owner, this guy named Mr. Samuels, was the nicest man. His wife would bake cookies and leave a tray on the counter.”
“Sounds like good memories,” Lowe said.
It was, only when I found enough money on the sidewalk to buy a can. We couldn’t afford seventy-five cents, but I didn’t tell Lowe that.
“How did you get to Tampa?”
“My father came over on a work visa when I was ten.” Then ran off, leaving me and my mother to fend for ourselves. We’d moved to Tampa when my mum married Nathaniel. I didn’t bring that detail up either. Too much baggage on the first date is not good. Wait. This was not a date.
“Is your family still in Tampa?”
“Yes. My mother and little sister.”
“Do you get to see them often?” Lowe asked, stirring her coffee again.
“Once or twice a year. I take my vacations there and try to get back for a long weekend if we’re nearby. How long have you been in the pack-and-ship business?” I changed the subject, not wanting to talk about myself too much.
“Fourteen years.”
“That’s impressive,” I commented honestly. My coffee was finally at a temperature level that I could drink it.
“My father doesn’t think so.”
“Oh, sorry,” I said as quickly as the smile fell from her face. “I didn’t mean to hit a nerve.”
“No. That’s all right. He was criticizing me earlier because I haven’t expanded again.”
“Again? How many stores do you have?”
“Twenty-four.”
“Twenty-four?” I asked, incredulous and impressed. “How many does he think you should have?”
“As many as I can. Size matters to him.”
I chose to ignore that analogy. “How many employees do you have?”
“A hundred and thirty-eight.”
“Twenty-four stores and a hundred and thirty-eight employees? You’re practically the next FedEx.” She smiled again. I’d have to think of other things to say to see her do that again.
“Not hardly, but I enjoy it. Any less and I’d be bored. Any more and I’d be too busy to spend my vacation on a ship with rude, irritating parents, a pretentious, obno
xious sister, and a beautiful woman sitting across from me on my first day.”
My stomach fluttered at her compliment. I told it to behave because the flattery came out of her mouth too smoothly. “Then why do you?”
Lowe looked at me, but I couldn’t see her eyes clearly through her dark sunglasses. “Because it’s the right thing to do,” she said simply.
“The right thing?”
“Yes. They’re family, whether or not I like it, and I was raised that family is number one.”
I nodded. I knew what she meant.
“So, you grin and bear it?”
“In a manner of speaking, I suppose.”
Lowe gazed across the stern out to the water of Sydney Harbor. She was very attractive in a handsome, almost androgynous way, and I was more than a little attracted to her. I needed to be careful.
“Are you happy doing what you’re doing?”
“Sitting here with you? Yes.”
“No. I meant with your life.”
Lowe was quiet for so long I thought I’d overstepped.
“Yes.”
“Then I don’t see a problem. But again, you’ve known me less than thirty minutes, so my opinion should not be the one to listen to.” My comment was a success, because Lowe smiled again.
“What are you doing the rest of your life, Faith? I need to have you beside me, especially when I visit my parents.”
I choked on my coffee that suddenly went down the wrong way. In some other place and time that remark would’ve made a pretty good proposal. But this was here and now. Lowe patted me hard on the back.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded and signaled her to give me a minute to recover.
“Sorry. I’m fine.” I coughed a few more times, clearing my lungs. “Just went down the wrong tube, I think.” I wiped tears from my eyes with a brown, scratchy napkin I tugged from the holder.
We sat there not talking for a few minutes, both of us apparently comfortable with our own thoughts. It was nice, and I didn’t feel any pressure to fill the silence. After a few more minutes Lowe asked, “How long have you been on the Escape?”
“Eight years.”
