Sunrise / Sunset:
7:10 a.M. / 6:38 p.M.
High / Low:
81°F / 70°F
Today’s Hi-Lites:
Costume Contest, 6 p.m.—
Broadway Theater, 3, 4, 5 Mid
Deck Party:
Prom Night, 10:30 p.m.—Lido 9 Aft
Daily Deal:
Diamond Flash Sale, Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend—5Aft
34
Sunday, 7:24 a.m.
Deck 2
It wasn’t just a hangover, though it was certainly that too. Annie’s head hurt more when she thought about Greg and even more when she thought about Keith Fiore. Poor Keith Fiore! She felt like she’d sexually assaulted him with her mind. It happened all the time, of course, women fantasizing about him. It probably happened every day of his life, but somehow it felt worse having him physically nearby. She looked across the room at Maira, who was asleep with her mouth open, her weighted sleep mask still Velcroed to her head. Annie sat up and saw the giant decal of Shawn Fiore’s face on the floor between their beds. TheAmerican Fantasywas moving more than usual, and Annie watched as the room rose and fell with the unseen waves. She swung her legs to the floor.
In opera, when women accepted their fate, it usually meant that they were going to marry someone they didn’t want to marry and then kill themselves. Some people claimed that wisdom came with age, but Annie had never found that to be true. Look at all the old people who lost their minds to invented stories on cable news channels, at the people who gave their pensions to strangers who called them on thetelephone while they were watchingWheel of Fortune. The only thing that Annie felt better about at fifty was her willingness to admit her own stupidity. Fallibility. Confusion. It was great, actually—getting things wrong didn’t feel as bad as it used to. The sun would rise the next day. She was a sturdy person. If the divorce had taught her anything, it was that.
Another gift of age: Whatever grudges Annie had ever kept were long gone. The woman who Chris had always flirted with too much? Gone. The moms who’d been bitches to her when Claudia was a rowdy toddler who sometimes bit? Gone. The college friends who had always ditched her for cooler people at cooler parties? There were only so many hours in any given day, and there were too many people who Annie actually cared about. She understood now when her parents had introduced someone as “their very good friend” and it was a total stranger, someone she’d never met before. There were too many people to fit into a calendar year, with family vacations and school holidays and childcare and dinner dates and deaths in the family and illness and money and time. That was it, really—there was never enough time, and Annie had gotten good at letting things go.
Maira croaked from her bed. “Want breakfast?”
“I’m not going to drink today,” Annie said.
“More for me,” Maira said.
—
A few minutes later, they walked into the restaurant, and Annie instantly felt like a fool. The buffet was like a shopping mall food court, and this was an actual restaurant. Annie exhaled, annoyed that she’d wasted so many meals walking around with a plastic tray.
“Right this way,” said a server wearing a vest and a tie.
“Why didn’t you think this was good again?” Annie asked. “There arewaiters?”
“It’s so much farther away from the lido deck,” Maira said. “You’d have to eat so early in order to get a good spot. Takes too long.”
The enormous room was full of Talkers in groups large and small, just like the rest of the boat, but it was quiet. The server stopped in front of a table next to a window and gestured for them to sit. Outside, the water was blue and endless. It immediately felt more like every vacation Annie had ever been on. Everyone was sitting down. No one was screaming. “Well, I am never going to the buffet again, I can tell you that much.”
Maira sat down and put her napkin on her lap. “You do you.”
The menus were enormous. It had only been three days, but Annie delighted at the choices in front of her, choices that someone would prepare and bring to her table. “Hmm, hmm, maybe eggs! Or I don’t know. French toast actually sounds so delicious to me right now. I don’t think I’ve had French toast inyears.”
Maira shrugged. “Okay,” she said. “So, you want me to tell you about your lover boy?”
Annie put her hand over her eyes. “I am so sorry you had to see that. I feel like a teenager who got caught having sex in her parents’ basement.”
