Chương 6
Someone lost?
I found directions.
Someone angry at an employee?
I smoothed it over.
Now Dad was gesturing at a document and I did nothing.
The world didn't end.
A cruise employee scanned my pass.
“Welcome aboard, Ms. Miller.”
“Thank you.”
The ship swallowed me into cold air, polished metal, and cheerful music.
I stood just inside for a moment while passengers flowed around me.
My first instinct was to wait for everyone else.
I didn't.
A staff member directed me toward the elevators.
My suite was ready.
That was another penthouse benefit I hadn't known about.
The door opened into a space larger than my first apartment.
There was a sitting area with a cream sofa, a dining table for four, a bedroom separated by sliding doors, and a bathroom with enough marble to make me nervous about touching anything.
Beyond the glass doors, the balcony looked over the port.
A bottle of champagne sat in an ice bucket beside a card.
Welcome, Ms. Miller.
Just my name.
No one else's.
I set my purse down and stood there without knowing what to do with my hands.
For six months, every detail of this trip had existed in relation to somebody else.
Mom's excursion.
Dad's casino questions.
Vanessa's dinner reservations.
Denise's cabin.
Brandon's drink package.
Now the room was silent.
I poured a glass of champagne even though it was barely noon.
It tasted too dry.
I drank it anyway.
My phone buzzed.
Denise.
I almost didn't answer.
Then I remembered she had never sent me the message about being unwanted.
“Hi.”
“Millie.”
Her voice sounded tight.
“Are you already on?”
“Yes.”
A pause.
“We're still checking in.”
“I figured.”
“Your father is having a disagreement with somebody.”
“Also figured.”
She made a small noise that might have been a laugh.
Then she lowered her voice.
“Is it true you changed the rooms?”
“Yes.”
“All of them?”
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“I wish you'd warned me.”
There was no accusation in the sentence, which made it harder.
“I know.”
“You know I don't do well in enclosed spaces.”
“I do.”
“So why?”
I sat down on the edge of the sofa.
Because you're all using me would have been easy.
It also wouldn't have been completely fair.
Denise had accepted the trip.
She had benefited from it.
But she had not sent the text.
She had not created the new group chat.
She had, according to Sarah's screenshot, asked where I was.
“I was angry,” I said.
“That isn't the whole reason, but it's part of it.”
She exhaled.
“Okay.”
“I left the tickets.”
“I know.”
“You can ask about upgrading yourself.”
“I did.”
“And?”
“They want a lot of money.”
I looked at the champagne bottle.
“I'm sorry.”
She was quiet long enough that I thought the call had dropped.
Then she said, “No, you're not.”
The bluntness landed cleanly.
“No,” I admitted.
“Not really.”
Denise gave a tired laugh.
“Well, at least that's honest.”
I heard Dad's voice in the distance.
Apparently asking for a supervisor.
Denise said, “I have to go.”
“Aunt Denise?”
“Yeah?”
“If the room actually causes a panic attack, call guest services.”
“I know how ships work, sweetheart.”
There was the aunt I recognized.
Mildly irritated by assistance even while asking for it.
She hung up before I could answer.
I unpacked.
Not because my clothes needed unpacking.
Because I needed something ordinary to do.
Swimsuits in one drawer.
Underwear in another.
Sandals near the closet.
The novel on the bedside table.
I found the complimentary robe and laughed at how absurdly heavy it was.
For lunch, I went to a small restaurant reserved for suite guests.
Nobody from my family was there.
I ate fish tacos by a window while the port slowly receded behind us.
The coastline flattened into distance.
A waiter named Luis asked whether I was celebrating anything.
I almost said survival.
Instead, I told him no.
“Sometimes no occasion is the best occasion,” he said.
It was the kind of sentence that would have annoyed me if I'd been in a worse mood.
That afternoon, I walked the ship.
I found the library, the theater, the gym I had no intention of using, and a quiet section of deck where the wind was strong enough to make everyone give up on their hair.
I bought a coffee with my room privileges and sat facing the ocean.
For nearly an hour, nobody needed anything from me.
I wasn't prepared for how uncomfortable that felt.
At 4:30, a message from Mom arrived.
We need to talk.
I stared at it.
Then I wrote, Not today.
Three dots appeared immediately.
This affects everyone.
I typed, I know.
She called.
I declined it.
My pulse jumped anyway.
The body is slow to learn what the mind has decided.
That evening, I changed into a blue dress and went to dinner.
The main dining room was crowded and loud, with silverware clinking and waiters weaving between tables.
I had been assigned a small table by myself because I had asked the travel agent to separate my dining reservation.
The host seemed concerned.
“Only one tonight?”
“Yes.”
He smiled.
“Best company sometimes.”
Apparently the cruise line trained its staff in comforting lonely people.
I ordered salmon and a glass of wine.
Halfway through the meal, somebody pulled out the chair across from me.
Vanessa sat down.
She was still wearing the navy family shirt.
The embroidered letters looked more embarrassing in person.
“You could have answered Mom.”
“I did.”
“You told her not today.”
“That was my answer.”
Vanessa leaned forward.
“You've made Dad insane.”
“I'm pretty sure I don't have that level of influence.”
“This isn't funny.”
“I agree.”
A waiter approached.
Vanessa waved him away without looking.
He retreated with professional speed.
She lowered her voice.
“Denise almost had a panic attack in the room.”
My fork stopped.
“Is she okay?”
“She's fine now.”
“Did she call guest services?”
“Yes.”
May you like
“And?”
“They moved her.”
