The Summer Sail Page 6

  Earlier this afternoon, she’d been hit by a wave of tiredness. She’d begged off from the others to sneak in a nap. A good decision, it turned out, because tonight was sure to be a late one—there’d been talk of the casino after dinner. She clutched Sam’s elbow as they walked along the corridor that led to the back of the ship, the twins following behind them. In the main lobby a man and a woman were singing “All of Me” on center stage. Passable musicians, Abby thought, if not Broadway-bound.

  She and Sam exchanged amused glances. A bright pink band, about an inch wide, snaked across his forehead where he’d missed with the sunblock earlier today. They’d have to be more careful tomorrow. Sunburn aside, however, her husband was still handsome, a fact that Abby was proud of, even if she supposed it made her a tiny bit superficial. Unlike so many of their friends, Sam had held on to his thick salt-and-pepper hair, saving him from doing the odd comb-over that some of her friends’ husbands were forced to do. And because Sam still liked to run in the occasional road race, he’d kept in relatively good shape for a forty-something-year-old, especially for a history professor who spent most of his days either in the classroom or behind a desk. Back in graduate school, Abby would have to drag him out of the library for a slice of pizza. Those days, she’d worried about Sam’s wasting away. Now, thank heaven, he appreciated a proper meal like the rest of them.

  “I didn’t realize dressing up for dinner was such a big deal,” Sam said.

  He and the boys were wearing khakis and polo shirts, and Abby was wearing a yellow sundress with matching yellow sandals. She thought they’d cleaned up well as a family, but now, when her eyes scanned the passengers around them, she saw that their family was a tad underdressed. Women pranced about in sleek, glittery dresses while their dates wore fitted jackets and ties.

  “Just pretend we fit in, honey,” Abby whispered, gripping Sam’s arm more firmly.

  When they reached the restaurant, the rest of their gang was already waiting. Abby exchanged hugs with the others, complimenting Lacey on her pretty blue dress and Caroline on a summery floral romper that only Caroline could have pulled off. Abby couldn’t quite determine what Lee was wearing because she’d wrapped an enormous turquoise shawl around herself to ward off the chill of the air-conditioning, which admittedly felt about ten degrees cooler in the restaurant than back in the cabin.

  “I think they’re ready for us, if you are?” Javier gestured to their host, a young man with dark hair and thick eyebrows, who stood with menus in hand.

  “Yes, please,” said Abby, marveling at the grand room as she followed their party to a long rectangular table. The dining room itself looked as if it had been teleported out of the 1920s and dropped into their ship. Rich blue carpeting stretched from wall to wall. Long white pillars rose up from the floor, and teardrop chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Each table sported a crisp white tablecloth. The air was vibrating with the hustle and bustle of waiters and the sound of glasses and silverware clinking everywhere.

  “I feel like I’m on the Titanic,” Abby said. “All I’m missing is my gown.”

  “Yeah, that and an iceberg,” Sam joked.

  “Oh.” Abby laughed. “I don’t mean that, of course. Just that it’s so fancy. Bad comparison, though, you’re right. Sorry.”

  When they reached their table, a waiter pulled out a chair for her. Javier did the same for Caroline, then Lee, and Ryan hurried to help Lacey with hers.

  “Your boys have become such gentlemen,” said Caroline, giving Sam an appreciative smile.

  “All their mother’s doing. I’m afraid I can’t take any credit.” He sat down next to Abby and unfolded a napkin in his lap. “If they listened to me, they’d still be in their boxer shorts.” Caroline laughed, but Abby caught Ryan blushing across the table and kicked Sam under the table. “What?” Sam demanded.

  “Shhh . . . you’re embarrassing Ryan,” she scolded.

  The waiter took their drinks order, and Lee, not missing a beat, swiveled around to Abby. “What? No wine for you tonight?”

  Abby shook her head. “With all the sun I’ve had today, I should probably go easy. Ice water sounds perfect.”

  “Oh, good,” Caroline said, the lines in her forehead relaxing. “For a second there, I thought you might be pregnant.”

  “Ha!” They all shared a good laugh. “Those days are over, I’m afraid,” Abby said, then hurried to add, “At least for me.” She wasn’t sure what Caroline’s plans were exactly, but she knew that her friend was hoping for a proposal. And if a proposal didn’t come on the cruise? Abby had inquired earlier by the pool. “If we’re serious about this relationship, then we should both be able to commit,” Caroline had told her and left it at that.

  In other words, things were still murky. Abby liked Javier. He was nice, intelligent, a man who could actually pass Caroline’s extensive checklist of requirements for a potential partner. He read the New York Times and enjoyed the odd art film. That he and Caroline had stayed together for three years was further testament to the fact that Caroline really liked him (she broke up with most guys after a few short months). And he was handsome in an Antonio Banderas kind of way, hardly a weakness. Abby just wished she knew what his intentions were for her friend. Was he the settling-down type?

  “I’m so glad that we didn’t sign up for the drinks plan,” Caroline said now, peering at the menu through her reading glasses. “I can’t imagine how we’d get our money’s worth.” She was referring to a special deal from the cruise line for guests who planned to imbibe generously. The deal had sparked a flurry of e-mails among the roommates, complete with mathematical calculations of how much they would have to drink in order to get their money’s worth—somewhere between seven and ten cocktails each per day. That was a bit rich, even for their group.

  “Thanks to your good math, Caroline,” Abby acknowledged.

  “Speak for yourselves, ladies,” said Javier and tipped his wineglass to his lips.

  “Javier.” Abby leaned in closer. “I haven’t had a chance to ask you yet: How was your trip to Paris?”

  He shrugged, set down his glass. “Good. I found some nice Cabernets for the store. But, of course, Caroline wasn’t there, so how romantic could it be?” He slung an arm around her, and Caroline smiled agreeably.

  Still, Abby wondered: How much effort would it have taken for Javier to fly Caroline over for the weekend? Yes, he’d been gone for a week, but wasn’t that kind of the point? Javier had spent seven days alone, footloose in the City of Light. Abby had been to Paris once, shortly after she and Sam were married. She’d fallen in love with the architecture, the foamy cappuccinos in mini-tasses, the sweet, lingering taste of croissants du chocolat that they’d bought from a street vendor each morning. The city practically begged a person to run back to her hotel room and make love.

  She was about to suggest that next time Javier traveled, he consider inviting Caroline, but Caroline cut her off. “Speaking of romance,” she began, “I think it’s high time we toasted the couple of honor. Congratulations to Abby and Sam on celebrating twenty years of marriage!” She hoisted her glass in the air, prompting clinks and declarations of “Hear, hear!” around the table.

  “That reminds me,” Sam added, setting down his glass. “My brother owes me a Ben Franklin. I’ll have to claim it when we get back to Boston.”

  “What on earth are you talking about?” Abby asked.

  Sam gave her a sheepish look. “We kind of made a bet. On our wedding day? Jake bet me that if you and I made it to twenty years, he’d give me a hundred bucks.”

  “What?” Abby exclaimed. “I don’t know which is more insulting—the fact that you thought twenty years of marriage was worth only a hundred dollars or the fact that you agreed to a bet in the first place.” She was only partly joking. Caroline and Lee were both laughing, however.

  Sam shrugged. “I fainted. I think he just wanted to make sure I got through the ceremony okay.”

  “Wow, all the truth is com
ing out now, isn’t it?” Abby said with a pointed laugh.

  “Wait, what? You fainted at your own wedding?” Lacey, apparently unfazed by the bet revelation, stared at Sam. “I never knew that! What happened?”

  “I’m not proud of it,” he admitted, “but it was a really hot day, and, well, the next thing I knew, my brother was holding me up in the church basement.”

  “What can I say, Lacey?” Abby leaned back and crossed her arms. “Love knocked him off his feet that day.”

  Sam laughed and said, “Yeah, well, something like that,” and then, just as quickly, the conversation turned to the topic of deep-sea fishing and whether or not their group should charter a fishing boat once they docked in Bermuda. Abby glanced over at Lee, who was deep in conversation with the boys. Lee had always been gifted at getting kids engaged. She was a natural teacher—animated, effervescent. Maybe she wasn’t the same gorgeous girl she’d been in college, but none of them were. Lee, Abby thought, had actually aged the most gracefully of them all. In school, there’d been an edge to her, as if she’d had to prove there was some substance behind all that blinding beauty. But Lee had grown into herself. She was lovely and comfortable in her own skin and Abby envied her that confidence.

  When their food arrived, Abby stared down at her pan-seared shrimp, nestled together like plump quarter moons, and suddenly realized she wasn’t hungry. Lately, her appetite had been waning. Sam’s hand found her knee under the table and squeezed.

  “You all right?” he asked quietly. Abby nodded while everyone else around them ate greedily.

  “This swordfish,” proclaimed Javier, his mouth half-full, “is for the gods.”

  “The prime rib isn’t half-bad either,” added Chris.

  “Though why someone would order prime rib on a cruise,” Lacey said, pointing out the obvious. But Chris hardly seemed to notice the insult. To the contrary, he laughed in that easy manner that Abby had come to think of as his trademark. She watched while he leaned toward Lacey, as if sharing a private joke, and Lacey nodded, a smile skirting her lips. Yes, Chris would be just fine, she thought. But then she noticed Ryan’s eyes darting to Lacey, a faint blush creeping back into his cheeks. Oh, Ryan! she thought. Don’t worry. Lacey already has a boyfriend. Chris can’t steal her from you.

  Once, when Chris and Ryan were in the third grade, they’d shared a crush on the same girl, Molly Samuels. Abby could still recall Molly’s sweet face, round with deep dimples and blond pigtails. One day Chris caught Molly at recess and kissed her right in front of his brother. Abby took a heartbroken Ryan out for a milk shake at the mall later that afternoon. “You know,” she told him over her own vanilla malted, “there are going to be plenty of girls in your future.”

  Ryan looked at her, his expression both doubtful and hopeful.

  “You’re going to have girls fighting over your telephone number,” she added.

  Abby felt her eyes well up at the memory. She was doing exactly what she’d promised herself she wouldn’t do on this trip—dredging up the past. No, she was absolutely not going to pine over memories. She forked a shrimp into her mouth—delicious. Her eyes swept across all the faces at the table, these people who meant the world to her. How she hoped they’d forgive her, still love her, when she told them her secret. But it could wait. Until they were headed back to Boston, maybe even until the moment they disembarked.

  Until then, she wanted everyone to enjoy every second of vacation. She was counting on it, perhaps a little too much.

  5

  Lee agreed to go only with severe arm-twisting. Casinos weren’t her thing. But Lacey was headed off to a show with Ryan and Chris, and, well, what else was she going to do? Sit in her cabin by herself? So when first Abby, then Caroline, started pushing her to go, she made them promise that they wouldn’t let her lose more than a hundred. A hundred dollars seemed like a fair amount, enough to justify the entertainment and maybe just enough to get lucky.

  On the way to the casino, Abby leaned toward her and whispered, “Don’t worry. I’m just as lost as you. We’ll watch first, and if we want to play later, we can.”

  “Famous last words,” quipped Lee, “before I end up blowing through my entire savings.”

  “Aw, we won’t let that happen,” Abby reassured her. “We’ll protect you.”

  “Yeah, right. That’s what you said the night of the Halloween dance sophomore year.”

  Abby swatted her arm. “That’s not fair, and you know it. You could not be stopped.” They were referring to their dorm’s annual costume party. For whatever reason—maybe it had something to do with the liberal mix of alcohol and disguise?—students seemed to lose all their inhibitions at the annual Halloween fete. Lee was hardly shy to begin with, but she’d had a huge crush on a football player, a senior, at the time. Colin Overby. Only with the bravado that her Catwoman mask provided was she able to screw up the courage to talk to him that night. One thing led to another, and, despite her roommates’ best attempts to pull her away, Lee had insisted on leaving the party with Colin, her arm slung through his. The next morning, she’d performed the “walk of shame” back to her dorm room.

  “Oh, God. I forgot all about that night. Don’t you dare tell Lacey.”

  Abby grabbed her hand and pulled her into the casino. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. At least that one is.”

  “Hah. Touché.” Lee blinked and struggled to get her bearings. All around her, bright lights flashed and buzzers beeped. The air was thick with stale smoke, and she waved a hand as if to clear a path. What stretched before her was not unlike a small, sprawling city—coin machines, blackjack tables, roulette and craps tables—and those were only the games that she recognized. Lee groaned. She felt like a freshman showing up for her first day of orientation all over again.

  Sam and Javier steered them to a blackjack table with three empty seats, where Caroline joined them. A dealer whose name tag read ALEXANDRIA, CROATIA had just cut a new deck, and before Lee could inquire about the game, her friends were exchanging money for little red chips that they stacked into tidy piles in front of them. Abby attempted to explain the rudiments of the game to Lee.

  “The idea is to get twenty-one or as close to twenty-one as you can,” she said. “If you beat the dealer, then you win. But if you lose, all the chips you put forward go to the dealer.” Lee nodded, half listening. How quickly the cards were dealt around the table! Lee was still counting up the value of Sam’s hand when the dealer moved on to the next person, inquiring if he wanted another card. The man tapped his finger on the table for another. The next player, a woman with peroxide blond hair and canary red lipstick, sighed as the dealer flipped over her new card, a bust, and raked in her chips. “She went over with her jack of hearts,” Abby whispered. “She should have stayed at fifteen.”

  Beyond third-grade math, Lee had never been especially gifted with numbers. She’d heard about those MIT kids who’d won millions in Vegas by counting cards, and hadn’t one of their classmates gone on to win big? Harry something? He’d come up in conversation at their last roommate get-together because he’d married a famous model. It was funny, they’d all remarked, how a person could go from geek to most-wanted bachelor in no time at all.

  “Sam has low cards.” Abby pointed to Sam’s hand: a two, a three, and a five. “He’ll want to hit.” Just as Abby predicted, Sam tapped the table for another card.

  “Nice!” exclaimed Javier, when the dealer laid down a queen. “Twenty!”

  “But,” Abby whispered to Lee, “it all depends on what the dealer gets. She could still get twenty-one.” Lee had forgotten about the dealer’s cards and glanced at Alexandria’s hand. So far, she had a six, a two, and an ace, which could count as either a one or an eleven. Before Lee could ask Abby why the dealer wouldn’t just stay at nineteen, Alexandria flipped her card. A two of hearts.

  “Man!” Sam slapped the table. “I can’t believe you got blackjack with that hand.” The dealer smiled and said “sor
ry” as she pulled away everyone’s chips.

  The table played on in silence for a while, the chips seeming to go in the wrong direction.

  “This is crazy,” Javier said finally, eyeing his shrinking piles. “I think I’ve won maybe four rounds total.”

  “I’ve never seen anything like it,” agreed Caroline. “Maybe we should try another table?”

  Sam nodded. “Yeah, good idea. Let’s just finish off this deck.”

  A cocktail waitress delivered a fresh round of drinks, and between the fizzy feeling of the vodka tonic making its way to her head and the hazy smoke, Lee was having a difficult time concentrating. Her eyes scanned the room. Some of the players looked as if they’d spent the entire day at the casino. One young woman, who appeared to be wearing her pajamas, sat next to a large bucket of change. Lee watched while she pulled out a handful of coins, slipped one in the slot machine, pulled the lever, and repeated the process all over again.

  Before long, their group was gathering up their chips in search of a new, luckier table.

  “Ready to give it a try, Lee?” Sam asked.

  She wrinkled her nose. “That depends. If Abby will, I will.”

  “Sure,” said Abby, joining Sam at a new table. “Why not? Who knows, we might get lucky. And nothing could be worse than that last table.”

  Lee hesitated. “Okay, but you guys have to help me.”

  “Of course.” Caroline sat down beside her. “Relax. It’ll be fun.”

  Lee handed the dealer a one-hundred-dollar bill and hoped like hell that she’d see it again.

  An hour or so later, a man in faded jeans and a button-down white oxford shirt joined their table. He was about fifty, with graying hair that had been buzzed short to hide a receding hairline and nice hazel eyes. A few cocktails in already, Lee confessed to him that she knew nothing about the game.

  “Looks like you must know something.” He gestured to her chips. “Either that or you’re extremely lucky.” Lee glanced at her piles of pretend money and was surprised to see that they’d grown considerably since she sat down. When she counted them all up, it appeared she actually had two hundred dollars.