Sweet Reality by Laura Heffernan (19)

Inside the Guppy Gabber, Friday:

 

Rachel: Ok, so I’ve been planning to donate my hair to Locks of Love for a while now. Sure, I wasn’t thinking I’d shave the whole thing, but it’s only hair. It’ll grow back. I’m just bummed I lost. Jen really wants Tammy Rae’s secret ingredient.

 

Ed: The hair does not make the man. And I think my man likes my new smoothness. I may keep this look. What do you think of this hat?

 

Jen: Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Ew. Oh my god. I’m gonna vom. Get out of my way. Sorry.

 

Danielle: Maybe I should shave my head, too. Show my support for Jen? No, wait. No way.

 

 

My mouth opened and closed soundlessly for what felt like an eternity. “Did autocorrect change this? Is the first word supposed to be . . . goat? Or maybe soy?”

We couldn’t put breast milk into food we were serving to humans. The health department would shut us down in a heartbeat. Even if they didn’t, no one would eat at our bakery once word got out. Even with other products, they’d always wonder what other bodily fluids made their way into our food. I shuddered at the thought.

She checked her phone. “No, that’s right.”

I wracked my brain. “Where do you even get breast milk? Aren’t your kids in their twenties?”

“Oh, honey, a woman can keep producing breast milk forever as long as she’s got the stimulation. Now I’m nursing my grand babies.”

This conversation kept moving further down a road I never, ever wanted to take. It took every ounce of self-control I possessed not to gag.

“Don’t look so grossed out,” she said. “It’s totally natural. And you promised not to tell anyone my secret ingredient. You share, I sue.”

“There are cameras everywhere,” I said. “You think none of them picked up this conversation? Maybe they didn’t get the text, but I can almost guarantee there are microphones around.”

“Not my problem. You share, I sue.”

“I’m not talking. What would be the point? We can’t use this recipe now. Not with breast milk in it.”

“Sure you can. All you need is the right stimulation. You could actually buy a pump, and you and Sarah could produce your own. It takes time, but—”

She kept talking, but my ears actually shut down out of self-preservation. I heard nothing but the pulse beating in my forehead, threatening to explode. So this is what hysterical deafness felt like. I wanted to run away, but my legs wouldn’t move.

The waiter brought our hot chocolate, which I grasped like a life raft. After a couple of deep gulps, I managed to speak. “I’m not sure my partner and I can afford to be tied to breast pumps while starting a business.”

“Okay, fine, I get it if you’re not up for that. I’m not far from Florida. We’ll work something out. I can have the product delivered to you if you don’t have a wet nurse.”

Unwilling to believe what I heard, I surreptitiously gripped the skin under my right arm with my left thumb and forefinger and squeezed. A flash of pain ran through me, but this nightmare, apparently, wouldn’t end.

“Thanks so much,” I said, struggling for the right way to explain that she completely missed the point. “But I don’t think it’s legal to use human byproducts in food products sold to the public.”

“Why wouldn’t it be? It’s all natural!”

I opened my mouth, but immediately closed it. Pointing out that marijuana was all natural but also didn’t belong in food—and so were a million other things, like dog poop and henna—might not help at this exact moment. I still needed a recipe to bring to Sarah, and maybe Tammy Rae could tell me something else of use.

“Have you ever tried a substitute? Coconut milk? Soy?”

“Nope. It’s gotta be breast milk to get the texture right. Plus, there’s this unique, subtle flavor to it.” She shrugged. “Look. Use it or don’t. You swore not to tell anyone. And I still want the five hundred dollars you promised.”

I didn’t have the energy to argue. A lead balloon filled me. I’d lost everything trying to get a recipe I couldn’t even use. Leaning to one side, I withdrew five folded bills from my pocket and held them out. “Here.”

Tammy Rae took the money and shoved it into her bra. “Thanks, Jen. It was a pleasure doing business with you.”

In response, I forced the corners of my lips upward. I couldn’t manage any other reaction. Trying not to let my disappointment show, I stuck the phone back in my pocket.

Total cruise fail. Total relationship fail. Total life fail.

* * *

After Tammy Rae left, I stayed on the couch, trying to figure out what on earth to do next. What a waste of a week. I should’ve stayed home, researched recipes on the internet, and watched reality shows for more ways to tie our products to other stars. I should’ve known better than to come on this stupid cruise. There was never any chance Ariana wouldn’t ruin it.

“Here.” A voice spoke nearby, but I didn’t recognize it, so I kept studying my shoes.

A piece of paper entered my field of vision. Unfolding it, I found a copy of the itinerary that appeared in our cabin every morning. Finally, I looked up to find Madison smiling down at me, her interpreter off to the left.

Just what I needed. A friend of Ariana’s to come . . . what? Gloat over my misery? Tell me how happy Justin was now?

“Hi.” Realizing she couldn’t hear me, I waved. Then, I flushed, as her interpreter passed on my greeting. Of course I could speak normally. That’s why she had an interpreter.

To cover my embarrassment, I tried spelling out her name using the ASL alphabet I’d learned in Girl Scouts as a kid, but I wasn’t sure about some of the letters.

After a minute, Madison laughed and put her hands over mine. Her hands flew through the air. “You don’t have to sign. We can use our phones to chat privately for a minute, if you don’t mind?”

I nodded and pulled out my phone. Madison signed something to the interpreter, who moved a few feet away and turned around. A real private chat. Surely, interpreters were governed by some kind of code. What could Madison want to talk to about that even the interpreter couldn’t know?

My phone showed a friend request from Mother Madison, which I accepted.

She gestured to the corner, where a young girl with dark, spiky hair sat next to the stroller. I’d seen her around, so I waved. She waved back.

She pointed at the piece of paper still sitting in my lap.

Since we were in port all day, the itinerary didn’t include much of a list of onboard events for the day. I turned the document, revealing an unprinted page filled with rows of neat, precise letters in blue ink:

Hardly daring to believe, I dropped the paper in my lap and picked up my phone again.

I giggled, resisting the urge to cover my mouth with one hand. It never occurred to me that Madison might be able to read lips. Deaf people always did it in books or on TV, but I thought that was more about laziness than accuracy.

My fingers flew over the tiny keypad.

I shook my head miserably.

Madison stared at me sympathetically before she started typing again. A moment later, my phone buzzed.

I chuckled at the last bit. A second later, another message popped up on my screen.

My taste buds sang at the reminder of the cupcakes Madison presented at the bake-off. Suddenly everything looked brighter. Caramelized bananas as a secret ingredient beat the hell out of breast milk. Maybe I could get something good out of this cruise, after all. If Sarah didn’t fire me. I typed.

I blinked at her reply several times before responding. After deleting a couple of false starts, I sent a message.

She shook her head.

Textbook Ariana. Of course.

Nibbling my lower lip, I studied her. For someone so young, Madison had been through a lot. I wanted to hug her, but didn’t know how the gesture would go over. Still, my heart went out to her.

Shaking my head, I offered the paper to her before picking my phone up again.

She stood and stuffed her hands in her pockets, not taking the recipe. She tapped the interpreter on the shoulder to rejoin us. Madison said, “Things aren’t as bad as you think.”

Not as bad as I thought? I didn’t have the energy to go into it. With a groan, I leaned against the chair and closed my eyes. “It’s worse.”

“Cheer up, lady.” A hand touched my knee briefly before she walked away.

My phone buzzed again. Madison again.

Then, behind me, I heard the voice I’d been yearning for all week. The low tone that sent chills down my spine, that filled me with desire, and that knew how to make me laugh better than anyone I’d never met.

“Hey.”

At first, I didn’t dare look up for fear I imagined him. When Justin’s well-worn tennis shoes appeared in the place where I glared at the floor, my heart skipped a beat.

“Hey,” I said softly.

He settled onto the chair beside mine. “We need to talk.”

Every time I heard those four little words, I hated them more. Finally, I met his gaze. To my surprise, he looked as bad as I felt. Dark circles ringed his eyes. His hair was tousled like when he’d spent four days studying and not bothered to shower. The wrinkles in his clothes might be permanent.

“What happened to your hair?” Justin asked.

“That’s what you want to talk about? My hair?” The icing on the cake of this hideous week came in the form of the guy I’d thought I’d be spending the rest of my life with telling me he hated my newly bald head.

“Just humor me for a second. Why did you shave your head?”

Briefly, I filled him in on the poker tournament. As I spoke, his face became less guarded. By the time I got to the final card, he wore a real smile. Maybe discussing my horrible luck broke the ice for us.

My more optimistic side suggested that maybe he was just glad we were talking again, about anything. I certainly was. I missed him like crazy. Every time I woke up in the night and didn’t find him an arm’s length or a text away, my heart ached.

“I didn’t have sex with Ariana,” he said when I finished. “And I know nothing happened with you and Dominic.”

Hope leapt inside me, lodging in my throat and making it difficult to speak.

“He told you the truth?”

“Nah. When he showed up on Wednesday, I told him I’d punch him if I ever saw him again. He left without a word. I think he’s been hiding in his new cabin. The producers moved him—they’ll push us pretty far, but they don’t want actual violence. I wish I’d thought to threaten him on Day One, then had Ed swap rooms with you. None of this would’ve happened.”

My mouth fell open. “Then how do you know I didn’t cheat on you?”

“It’s Saturday,” he said, as if that explained everything.

“And on Saturdays, you have more faith in me than other days?”

A ghost of a smile crossed his lips, but it faded almost as if it never existed. “It was never about faith in you. I let my own insecurities take over when I saw that picture. I’m an ass. I’m so sorry for doubting you.”

His three-sixty spun my head a little. The part of me that had taken a real beating this week spoke up in my brain. What was going on? Had the Network set up this conversation? I hadn’t forgotten I still owed Leanna a showdown with Ariana, and she most likely hadn’t, either. She was definitely evil enough to send Justin in to shake things up when I didn’t confront Ariana right away.

But then my optimistic side took over: No, he wouldn’t set me up, no matter what the Network promised. No matter what happened between us, we still had real history, real emotions. This was my Justin, apologizing because he loved me. I trusted him.

“Thank you. You’re not an ass. I know how easy it is to jump to conclusions. But what does Saturday have to do with anything?”

Justin said, “The bar results were posted online yesterday. With everything that happened, I forgot to check, but this morning, I convinced the producers to give me fifteen minutes of internet time so I could look up my results.”

“Oh, yeah! How’d you do?” Not for a second did I doubt he’d done well, but I didn’t want to steal the thunder of his announcement by saying it first.

He broke into a real smile, and his entire face lit up. My heart lurched. He hadn’t looked at me like that since we left the Bahamas. “I passed!”

“That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you!”

Without thinking, I jumped up to kiss him, celebrating in the way we would’ve under normal circumstances. His stiffened when my lips hit his, which reminded me we still had a lot to talk about before falling into our old habits. Still, when I pulled back, the air between us crackled. I flushed, looking at the ground before settling onto the couch again.

“Did you get to talk to Sarah? How’s your mom?”

“They’re both fine. I let them know you were worried about them.”

“Thanks. Did you . . . ?” I didn’t even know how to finish that sentence, so I didn’t bother. Did you tell them you dumped me? Did you tell them how much this cruise sucks? Did you tell them you’re in love with Ariana now?

“Calls cost like three dollars a minute. I asked how Mom was doing and sent your love. They don’t need to know anything else before the show airs,” he said. “But that’s not the point. I also got emails from Google Voice with all your texts, and I found a message from Ty.”

“The guy who ferried us over from Jamaica?”

“Yeah. He told me Dominic kissed you out of nowhere, and you smacked the hell out of him for doing it.” He raked one hand through his hair, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry. I never should’ve doubted you. I’ve been so nervous about all the other stuff, I let my insecurities make me act like an asshole.”

“You weren’t the only one with insecurities,” I said. “Nor were you the only one who acted like an asshole. I should’ve stayed, charged past Ariana into your room, and let you explain before jumping to conclusions.”

“Yes, you should have. You know me better than that, Jen.”

“I’m so sorry. She does this to me every time. When she’s nearby, my internal doubt monster takes over.”

“Don’t let it. You have nothing to worry about. I spent that whole night worrying that you’d been injured, that you were trapped in Jamaica, planning to get off the ship in the Caymans and go find you.”

The love in his eyes made me feel even worse for not trusting him. All I wanted was to be worthy of the way he felt about me. Still, I had to know. “I shouldn’t have blamed you for thinking something happened with Dominic. Especially after you saw the picture. But why was Ariana in your room when I showed up the next morning?”

“She came in looking for Dominic while I was in the shower. He must’ve given her his key card. And she was in a robe because they’d booked a couples massage at the spa.” He met my gaze squarely. His face wore an open, expression. “I swear, she couldn’t have been in the room more than two minutes before you knocked. She was about to leave. It was crappy timing.”

Maybe love turned me into a fool, but I believed him. “Why didn’t you come after me?”

“Because I’m a dumbass. I was mad at you for going off with Dominic, especially when you didn’t come back to the ship after the excursion. And then when I saw that picture . . .” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I screwed up. I should’ve thrown myself into the water back in Jamaica to be with you. Once I knew you were back onboard, I should’ve gone tearing after you, made sure you were okay, and kissed every inch of your body.”

His words warmed my heart, made me want to jump into his lap right there in the casino. but I kept my response light. “In front of Rachel? That might have been overkill.”

He chuckled. “She could’ve left. Can you ever forgive me? I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

This time, when I leaned in, he met me halfway. He reached up with one hand to cup my face, and before I knew what happened, I found myself in his lap, putting every ounce of emotion into the kiss. His lips parted beneath mine, and a low moan escaped me. I’d missed him so much. His hands moved down to my hips, and I ran my fingers through the blond hair at the nape of his neck. Feeling him shift beneath me, hearing him, touching him, left no further doubt about the depth of our emotions.

Lights flashed around us: tourists, probably, but I didn’t care. All that mattered was Justin. Not just “Jen and Justin,” the couple, but Justin, the man, who loved me and trusted me and made me feel things I never imagined, inside and out.

Finally, I pulled back, resting my forehead against his. “I’m so sorry. This trip has been a nightmare.”

“It’s not your fault,” he said.

“True. I guess we should’ve known the Network would throw some curveballs at us.”

“You don’t think they were behind all this?”

I shrugged. “Reality TV’s about drama, right? We’ve got plenty of that. Inviting the two of us plus Ariana wasn’t a coincidence, and I bet they drooled at the thought of adding Dominic. From the moment Danielle showed up, I knew the Network was up to something. Imagine how much worse it could’ve been if she hadn’t refused to play along. I’m glad she’s just here to get a tan and relax.”

“And we let them feed on our insecurities.”

“Yup.”

“We’re so stupid,” Justin said.

“I think listing us as one person for everything was intentional. They saw the first day how surprised you were that all the pictures to sign were of both of us. Trying to make us share a chair during the bake-off wasn’t an accident. They were poking the sleeping tiger. They don’t care about us or our relationship, and why would they?”

“Well, luckily, I do. Let’s make a pact, never to let television or D-list fame, or any of this crap come between us again. We’re a team. We might be Jen and Justin, but only you and I get to decide what that means for us.”

I nuzzled against him. It felt so good to melt into his arms. “Right now, what do you say being Team Jen and Justin means I kick Rachel out of our room for about an hour?”

“I’ve got a better idea.” He pulled a key card out of his pocket. “I booked a balcony suite for the night.”

“Oh yeah? Cocky, aren’t we?” My playful tone took the bite out of my words.

“Not cocky, hopeful. I planned to use all of my lawyerly negotiation skills, plus some groveling.” He kissed me again. “Lots of groveling.”

“I’m sorry I missed that.”

“Don’t be. I’m not pretty when I cry.” He held the card out to me. “What do you say? King-sized bed. Private ocean view. Care to join me?”

“Nothing in the world could make me happier right now.”