Regan, holding a girl by each hand as they watched a Georgia sunset.
Lee wanted to be mothered.
Isabella, one front tooth missing.
Lee wanted tobea mother.
Regan, looking rumpled in the background, admiring the girls in pink leotards.
Lee would be a terrible mother.
Flora and Isabella, sharing a milkshake.
Lee’s period was late.
CHARLOTTE WAS APPLYING LIPSTICKwhen she heard a knock. She admired her Fun Day at Sea ensemble—a yellow shift dress with gold ballet flats—then turned and opened the door.
“Where shall I put your breakfast, ma’am?” said Paros, awkwardly balancing a tray with a carafe of coffee and covered dishes.
“Oh, Paros. Thank you for helping me get home last night. I’m so embarrassed. How could I get lost like that? Though the hallways do look very similar.”
“The tray?” said Paros, looking strained. “Where would you…?”
“Oh! I’m sorry. Anywhere is fine.”
Paros laid the tray on her desk, then took a napkin and placed it with a flourish on her coffee table, setting a coffee cup upon the napkin. “How do you take your coffee?” he asked, lifting the carafe.
No one had asked Charlotte how she liked her coffee in…maybe ever. She made her own coffee every morning in her Mr. Coffee, adding one Splenda and a dollop of milk to her cup. After Winston died, she stopped moving the milk into a china creamer, just grabbed the carton, used it, then put it back in the fridge. Young Charlotte had presented sugar cubes with silver tongs, had arrayed the Splenda packets in a shallow bowl! Charlotte was both sorry for and proud of the woman she had been.
“A bit of milk and a Splenda, thank you,” said Charlotte.
His brow furrowed. “I have a Sweet’N Low,” he said. “Will that do?”
Will that do! What a hunk, thought Charlotte. A hunk—there was no other word! And there they were, in her cabin. What if he simply took her in his arms (oh my, they were hairy. She could see wiry gray and black hairs at the edge of his crisp shirt), dipped her toward the floor, as if in a movie, and touched his lips to hers? Charlotte covertly admired his strong shoulders. Heat rose in her chest. Shehadto stop reading her naughty novels!
“Mrs. Perkins?” said Paros. “Will Sweet’N Low do?”
“Sweet’N Low will be fine,” she stammered.
As Paros prepared the coffee, Bryson’s dulcet tones came over the loudspeaker: “Good morning,Splendido Marvelosopassengers! Are you ready for a full day of FUN FUN FUN aboard theSplendido Marveloso? Did you hear me? I hope you heard me say FUN because today is going to be a FUN day at sea!”
Could one turn off the loudspeaker? Charlotte looked around the room for a switch. She couldn’t even figure out where the thing was located.
“Let me start with the Poolside Fun,” crowed Bryson.“At noon, there’s an ice carving demonstration. At twelve-thirty—get ready, ladies and gents—it’s the Very Hairy Chest Contest!”
Paros stepped into the hallway. “Paros!” cried Charlotte.
“Ma’am?” said Paros, turning.
Don’t leave!was what she wanted to say. “Are you Italian?” said Charlotte.
“I am Greek,” said Paros.
“From Athens?”
“I’m from Ikaria. It’s an island.”
Casting about for a way to keep the conversation going, Charlotte blurted, “Do you miss it?”
