by Julie Cannon
“I knew it,” she said triumphantly, pointing to the activities circled on my sheet. “We are going to the same places.” She was almost beaming.
“Lowe.” I started to explain I wasn’t going to be a tourist. Every activity had a crew member along to take care of things. The residents paid a hefty fee every month to have just about anything they wanted at any time.
“Consider this part of your exceptional customer service.”
My anger started to simmer. “I’m not an amenity,” I said forcefully. This wasn’t the first or the fourth or even the fourteenth time someone thought I came with the apartment purchase agreement. I was disappointed that Lowe had.
“What?” Lowe asked, her expression questioning. “No,” she said quickly, catching my meaning. “God, no, no, no. That’s not what I mean.”
I looked at her long and hard, my bullshit meter on full alert.
“God, no, Faith. I apologize if that came out wrong. In no way, and I do mean absolutely no way, did I mean to imply or even think you would do that.” She sat back in her seat and sighed heavily. “God, I’ve really fucked things up, haven’t I?” she said more to herself than to me.
“No, you haven’t,” I said, making a decision I hoped I wouldn’t regret. I changed the subject. “I overheard your name in the conversation among the staff today,” I said carefully.
“This might not be good,” Lowe said, not looking at me.
“They said you were nice.” Lowe turned and looked at me.
“Nice?”
“Yes, nice. I’ll be on the bus at eight.”
Chapter Ten
Day Three
Hobart
I tried not to look too obvious that I was anxious for breakfast to be over. Victoria and our mother were dressed for a day of shopping, and I would be spending the day with Faith. I hadn’t slept much last night, anticipating if she would show up this morning. Finally, at 7:42, I was able to escape, so I left the apartment and ran down the hall to the stairs.
The line for my bus wasn’t too long, and I made small talk with an Italian couple in front of me. They were visiting residents on deck eight and had also boarded in Sydney. When it was their turn at the sign-in desk, a familiar voice greeted them. I peeked over their shoulder and was surprised to see Faith sitting behind the table. It took me a moment to figure out that she was probably working the table, and after everyone was signed in, she’d be done.
When it was my turn, I said, “I didn’t expect to see you here.” The table Faith sat behind contained a stack of brochures of the activities and a basket of small tubes of sunscreen.
“I’m working the tour,” she said, handing me a clipboard.
“Excuse me?” The two and two I’d just put together suddenly no longer added up to four.
“The tour. Every excursion organized by the Escape requires a crew member.”
“And you’re the crew member?” My anticipation of spending the day with her started to deflate. Yeah, I’d be with her all day, along with dozens of other people.
Faith nodded.
“What do you have to do?”
“I’m just on the scene in case any of the residents need anything. It’s like a mini concierge,” she explained.
“So, that’s why you said you’d be on the bus this morning?”
The twinkle of teasing in Faith’s eye didn’t let me stay upset. “I did say I’d be on the bus at eight.”
“Is that the only reason?” How could I have missed the signals I’d thought I was receiving? I tamped down my disappointment.
“What other reason would there be?”
I opened my mouth and started to tell her what I thought but changed my mind. I felt bad enough without adding public humiliation to my situation. “None, whatsoever,” I said. “I guess I’ll see you on the bus then.” I signed the empty space next to my name and stepped to my left as Faith greeted the next passenger in line.
The ramp from the main deck to the dock had a gradual slope, and I was still shaking my head in disbelief when I stepped onto the dock. Three busses were lined up at the curb, each with a large black letter on a white background taped to the inside window of the first row.
I joined the growing crowd milling around by the door of the bus with the large B. I’d met a few of the residents on my previous visits, and we exchanged small talk as we waited for the driver and the person I now knew was our concierge.
“When did a concierge start accompanying the tours?” I asked the downstairs neighbor of my parents. We’d met on my last trip and had visited over cocktails and dinner several times.
“About eight months ago,” the man said, glancing at his wife for verification. He then looked around like he didn’t want anyone to hear what he was about to say. He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “I heard there was a problem with the authorities in one of the small, obscure countries we visited, and it created quite a ruckus. The grandson of one of the residents on a lower deck ended up in jail, and it took several days to get him out. I guess he raised holy hell and demanded the American Embassy be called.” The man shook his head in clear disapproval. “I don’t know what they had to do to get that boy out, but his grandparents moved out shortly after that. Rumor has it they had to sell their apartment to pay for his release.” The man’s wife nodded. “After that, someone from the ship is on every tour.”
“Glorified babysitter, if you ask me,” the wife added.
“What do they do?”
“Not much, at least on the tours we’ve been on. They just tag along and keep an eye on things, I guess,” the man surmised.
“Except for Faith. She’s wonderful,” the woman said.
Naturally my ears perked up at the mention of Faith’s name. “How so?”
“She’s so nice,” the woman said. “She’s friendly, tells us a little bit about where we’re going before we get there, and reminds us when to be back on the bus. She stays with us and answers questions and keeps us from getting lost.”
“Or in trouble,” the man said quickly.
“Ronald, we’re all too old to get into trouble,” his wife said, teasing him.
“She even helped me carry one of my bags back to the bus,” the woman said, smiling and nodding as if it were the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her. “Faith is just so pleasant every time I see her. I was so glad to see she was on this tour.”
“I don’t think we’ve met.” A tall woman with short gray hair and aviator sunglasses directed her comment to me as she approached our group.
“No, we haven’t. I’m Lowe Carter.” I held out my hand.
The woman shook it and placed her left hand on top of mine in a strong, two-handed grasp. “You’re Francis and Landon’s daughter,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am. I am.”
“Francis has told us about you. My name is Shirley Phillips. Are you the older or the younger one? I don’t remember,” Shirley asked, releasing my hand.
“My sister doesn’t think so, but I am the oldest.”
Shirley chuckled. “One of those sisters. I have two of them. How long are you visiting?”
“I’ll be leaving when we return to Sydney.”
“Well, welcome aboard. “She looked behind me. “Oh, here comes Faith.”
“Everybody ready?” Faith asked, joining the crowd.
Murmurs of yeses spilled out from the passengers, and the couple’s face lit up with excitement. I had to admit mine probably did as well. Faith wore a pair of low-cut, well-worn jeans, boots, a polo shirt adorned with the Escape logo, and a pale-green bandanna tied around her neck. A pair of sunglasses sat on the brim of her white cap, slightly obscuring the Nike logo. She had a blue bag slung over her shoulder. She looked ready to explore, and I was more than ready to explore her. I told my libido to settle down.
“I am so looking forward to this,” she said, waving at the driver to open the door. “I need to feel my feet on solid ground for a while. Let’s get going.”
&n
bsp; We started boarding the bus, and Faith greeted each passenger as she checked all the ID badges blowing in the strong morning breeze. She didn’t treat me any different from the others as I climbed aboard the big blue bus.
“Is this seat taken?”
I looked up and into Faith’s dark, amused eyes. I couldn’t help but laugh at the tired pick-up line. I moved my backpack, and Faith set hers on the seat beside me.
“I thought you’d have to sit up front?”
Faith looked at me, a question on her face.
“One of the other passengers said you give an overview of where we’re going.”
“I do, but I stand in the front when I do. That doesn’t mean I have to sit there as well.”
“Again, my lucky day,” I said, meaning it as the bus pulled away from the curb.
“I’ve got to get us started.”
She stowed her bag in the seat beside me and walked the few rows to the front, where she picked up the microphone.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” Faith greeted us, her voice clear and strong coming over the PA-system speakers. Several voices returned the greeting.
“I’d like to officially welcome you to Hobart. My name is Faith Williams, and I’m your concierge today. We’re headed to the famous Tahune Airwalk, but before we leave, I’d like to give you a brief history of the island state of Hobart.”
I watched Faith as she provided an overview of the state, its population, weather, and basic geographical information, including the fact that it was founded in 1804 as a penal colony.
“We’ll be in Hobart until eleven pm tomorrow night, so you may want to take advantage of a drive up to Mount Wellington, visit the Royal Hobart Botanical Gardens, or even fly by helicopter to the Frogmore Creek Winery. We’ll have plenty of time later this afternoon to stroll the waterfront cafés, restaurants, and art studios that overlook the harbor.”
Faith talked for a few more minutes, then walked down the aisle answering questions and making small talk with the other passengers before returning to her seat beside me.
We rode in silence for about ten minutes, and I had to say something to get my mind off the feel of Faith’s right hip, shoulder, arm, and leg pressed against mine in the narrow seats. The parts of my body in direct contact with Faith’s were hot, the nerves sending all kinds of powerful messages to other parts of my body that would love to be against hers. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the rise and fall of her breasts when she breathed, and I stole a glance more than a few times.
“What’s the longest?”
“I beg your pardon?” Faith asked.
“You said you were ready to have your feet on solid ground. What’s the longest you’ve been at sea?”
“Oh, right. Seventeen days.”
“Wow. Don’t you get like scurvy or something like that?”
Faith laughed and finally looked at me.
“No, we don’t get scurvy. That was back in the Christopher Columbus days. I just miss the smell of dirt and trees. Don’t get me wrong, I love what I do, but a change of pace is good once in a while.”
“Did you always want to be on a ship and sail around the world?”
“When I was young I couldn’t wait to get out of my village and into the big city.”
I detected a note of nostalgia in her voice.
“And now you’re on a floating city. Do you get any time off when you dock?” I asked, wanting to know how she spent her spare time.
“Most of the time. They try to work the schedule so that everyone can have at least one day on shore. I don’t mind this,” she said, waving around her. “It’s the best of both worlds. I get to experience the activities just like everyone else does.”
“But you have to keep one eye on us? In case we wander off or get in trouble,” I added to see if she’d bite at the rumor the man had told me about earlier. She didn’t.
“Not really. I’m just here if anyone needs anything they can’t get themselves.”
“Have you ever had to intervene before something got messy?”
Faith laughed again, and my insides did a little flip-flop.
“No, not hardly. Although one time I had to find some tomato juice when one of the passengers got too close to a skunk. That was the longest ride back to the ship I’ve ever had. We had to open all the windows, or we never would have made it back.”
Now that we were talking, I could look at Faith without being impolite. She was so young, her face smooth with only the hint of a laugh line around her eyes. Her profile was strong, and I loved hearing her accent when she spoke. I liked saying her name. It was feminine, just like her.
I don’t normally fall for femmes. Actually, they kind of scare me sometimes. I normally go for women that take less time to get ready than I do. Not hard-core butch, but somewhere in the middle. Faith, on the other hand, was further to the left of butch than I’d ever been.
“Are the crew like sailors on shore leave?” I was again rewarded with the low timbre of Faith’s laugh. God, I could listen to that for the rest of my life.
“Some of them. Others have family back home and behave.”
“What about you?”
Faith turned in her seat a little to look at me. Her leg pressed harder against mine, but then she pulled away.
“I don’t act like a sailor, but I do get off every chance I get.”
Heat shot through me, and I tried not to squirm in my seat. The temperature in the bus shot up at least ten degrees.
“Well, uh,” I barely managed to get out, not having a clue what to say to that.
“Oh my god, that’s not what I meant.” She buried her face in her hands. “Why do I keep saying stupid things when I’m around you?” Her voice was muffled.
I leaned close to her, my lips almost brushing her ear, and said quietly, “Because you’re captivated by my ravishingly good looks, riveted by my charming personality, and…” I hesitated until she drew back and looked at me warily through her fingers. “Because I’m nice.” I could have said something like “because you know I want you,” but I settled for the descriptor she’d used yesterday. She dropped her hands, the tension between us lessening.
“Yeah, right. That’s it,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “Does your sister go with you?”
“What?” I asked, completely confused because all the blood in my brain had settled in my crotch.
“Your sister,” Faith repeated. “Does she come with you on any of the excursions?”
I finally figured out she had completely changed the subject. Smart girl. “No. She and my mother enjoy more sedate sightseeing. They’re on the shopping-mall bus.” I indicated it with my thumb over my shoulder.
“I don’t remember seeing your parents’ names on many of the other tours we’ve done.”
“I’m not surprised,” I answered. My core temperature was lower than it had been a few moments ago, but still not back to normal. It probably wouldn’t be until I got off this bus. “I don’t know what they do all day every day. My dad plays golf every chance he gets, but even that can get old, I suppose.” I had never understood the allure of golf. I’d rather compete against someone.
“He does sign up for the golf tours.” Faith corrected herself. “I see your mother in the lounge talking or having lunch with the other residents. Occasionally I’ll spot her on the top deck. But it’s none of my business, and I shouldn’t be reporting their activities to you. Our residents value their privacy.”
Valuable privacy was more like it. For what they paid for their unit, my parents should be able to commit murder and expect no one to say anything. Just then the driver slammed on his brakes. A few passengers shrieked.
“You okay?” I asked Faith as we came to a stop. My stomach was somewhere in the middle of my throat.
“Yes,” she said, getting out of her seat. “Is everyone all right?”
Murmurs of “yes” and “I think so” came from around me as Faith moved up and down the aisle checking o
n everyone.
Traffic was terrible, and we were stuck in the middle of it. Faith returned after conferring with the driver and saying a few calming words to the passengers.
“This is nothing like my morning commute,” I said sarcastically.
“I can’t complain about mine,” Faith said. “I don’t know how people do it.”
“I know. I’m lucky. I work primarily from home, but when I have to go into a store, I can pretty much pick a time.”
“Even luckier.”
“Do you plan on making the Escape your career?”
“God, no,” she said quickly, then blushed like she’d said something she shouldn’t have. “Don’t get me wrong,” she said. “I love my job, but it’s hard work and not practical if you want to have a family.”
“Do you?” I asked, curious. Normally I never asked the question because I didn’t want to know the answer. I certainly never wanted to open up that line of conversation with a date. I’d concluded that I wasn’t the settling-down type. My job was demanding, and I grew bored easily, at least when it came to women. Not many had held my attention longer than a few weeks. Even fewer for longer than a few months. I loved my job and my life, which included coming and going when I wanted and with whom I wanted.
“Yes, I do,” Faith said firmly.
“Any prospects?” Another question I didn’t think I wanted to know the answer to. I could plead ignorance when it came to my pursuit of her.
“This life isn’t the best way to have a relationship. And it certainly isn’t the ideal way to find one either,” Faith replied, not answering my question.
“No shipboard romances?”
“No.”
“Do you—”
“I’m sorry. It’s time for me to go to work,” Faith said abruptly.
If I wasn’t mistaken, Faith had used her job as an excuse to end our conversation. It really was none of my business if or who she dated, but I was curious about the type of woman Faith would be interested in. I’d almost asked if she’d be interested in getting together, aka have sex, but she must have sensed the direction I was headed. I’d have to plan my next approach more carefully.
