Chapter 18: Angie
The aft deck is a couple of levels down. First things first. My stomach’s growling, and I see a snack bar. Or deck bistro, as they call it. Taking one of the stools, I watch the ocean stream by us while I eat one of the most delicious burgers I’ve had in my life, and everything just goes on the room tab. That’s luxury right there. Not a bad life if you can get it, or marry it I suppose.
Burger devoured, I go further aft to where the chairs are. Picking one in the sun at random, I sit and lose myself in a sci fi romance. Wacky and totally unbelievable, but I love the characters. I move around a bit, in and out of the sun so I don’t fry, but amazingly enough, a couple of hours go by without anything horrible happening. No Paul, no Gavin, no drama. This I could get used to.
When I think I’ve pushed my tanning about as far as it can go, I switch to a chair that looks like it’ll be in the shade for a while, and in the process find my favorite couple of retired cruise enthusiasts dozing next to me. Joyce and Mabel are in light summer shirts and slacks, all white. They have the cruise wardrobe down pat. Almost enough to make a girl feel underdressed.
I give them a smile and pull my chair closer. Almost immediately one of the servers comes by with a choice of cool drinks. I grab an iced tea and set it on the metal table next to my chair.
“Miss Wilson.” Joyce is looking straight at me.
“Please, call me Ang—Marie. Call me Marie.” Crap. I almost forget my cover. This pretending stuff drives me nuts. One thing was fooling the concierge, but I feel bad giving a fake name to everyone. I bet Joyce wouldn’t even care, but I don’t want to chance it.
If she notices my slip-up, she doesn’t show it. “Of course, dearie. Thank you.” She tilts her chair up with a bit of effort, leaning forward to talk. “I remember when I was young and beautiful like you.” She might be a bit nutty, but she’s sweet.
“Thank you. You’re still so beautiful now, I’m sure you were a knockout then.” It’s true, she has one of those faces where you can almost see the beautiful young woman under the surface.
Joyce laughs. “You forgot to add ‘for my age’ to that, Marie. But, I appreciate it.” She looks off in the distance, like she’s remembering something. “When I was young, I had all the boys falling at my feet. Enjoy it while you can. Life is so short and fleeting.” For a moment, she sounds wistful, but then she speaks with renewed energy. “But those are old people worries, and you’re far too young for those. So, tell me, Marie, are you excited?”
“Excited?” I have my suspicions that this is tied to whatever’s happening on the upper deck. Does everyone on this ship know what it’s about except us?
“Oh, so he really hasn’t told you yet, has he?” Her smile is mischievous, and she looks ready to burst with it.
I decide to pump her for some info. All this secrecy is getting pretty irritating. “So...” I drag it out while I eye her with a conspiratorial grin. “What’s going to happen? You can tell me, can’t you?”
“Oh no, young lady. If your husband-to-be hasn’t seen fit to tell you, I’m not going to spill the beans. I don’t want that brute coming after me if he finds out I ruined his fun.” Joyce laughs, eyes bright and obviously not terribly worried about Gavin.
I roll my eyes, but I can’t really get mad at her. “What do you think he’s going to do? Give you a spanking?” Images of yesterday morning flash before my eyes, and I feel a tingle that runs right down to my core.
This time she laughs outright. “Maybe?” She adds eagerly, “Is he good at it?” My iced tea catches in my throat, unleashing a wave of rolling coughs while I try to get my breath back. “Oh dear. Should I hit your back?” She makes as if to get up.
Waving my hand at her and shaking my head, I make her sit back down. “I’m—” Another cough. “I’m alright. Just went down the wrong way.” I get my breathing back under control. “What were you asking again?” Then I remembered.
“Well, I don’t think I have to tell you that you’ve picked a tough one, do I? Handsome of course, but he looks like a spanker, that one.” She winks with a mischievous grin. “Like my first husband, Jim. He was a strong believer in discipline. And with those big hands of his...” She trails off, lost in the memories, while I stare at her in disbelief. “Well, let me tell you, some days I was too sore to sit.” She sighs, like she’s remembering fond times. “Those were the best days.”