“HI, CHEF ANN,” I GREET wearily, taking a seat at her prep table six hours into my shift. It’s my first break and the first time I’m eating today. Chef Ann is a portly woman with the most lovable face you’ve ever seen. Sweet and rosy-cheeked, hair swept into a bun, she instantly made me want to hug her. Plus, she always had food ready for me. A better woman, I’ve never known.
“Honey, you look exhausted.” She tsks and slides some apple juice in front of me. I gulp it down greedily, eager for the sugar it provides. My eyes water slightly at the explosion of flavor and I will the shaking in my hands to go away. “Is this the first time you’re eating or drinking anything today?”
I nod my head, smacking my lips, and set the cup down with a grateful sigh.
“He works you too hard. He must like you,” Chef jokes, reaching into her large stainless steel fridge and pulling out my favorite curry chicken salad to make a quick sandwich.
I stay silent as I eat, knowing I won’t have long before the angry troll finds me and berates me again for “resting.”
As two deckhands come bustling into the kitchen, one of them squeals to her friend, “Oh my God, Sarah, he’s so effing hot, I swear. How do you stand it?”
Sarah blushes and shrugs coyly. “Just lucky, I guess. He asked me to join him on St. Maarten when we dock for dinner.”
“That’s so romantic!” The other girl gives another excited squeal, and I can’t help but snort.
Both girls look over and Sarah narrows her eyes at me. “Do you disagree?”
I take another bite of my sandwich and say nothing, blinking innocently. They both stare at me hostilely for a moment longer before flouncing right back where they came from. I roll my eyes and focus back on Chef. “To be young and idiotic again.”
“Were you ever young and idiotic?” Chef raises a brow and I blush at the subtle reminder that she’s probably the only person who knows the truth. She found me down here a week into the trip, crying and emotionally eating, and coaxed the story out of me.
“I’m just saying, the only reason he wants her off the boat is because relations between guests and crew is like, number one strictly forbidden. In both the contract the guests sign and the one we sign—but what happens off the boat, stays off the boat. The guy sounds like a sleaze.”
“Have you even met the guests?”
I shake my head and continue to eat.
“Easton VanHouten, as in the VanHoutens—”
“Ooh!” I wiggle my eyebrows, pretending to be impressed.
Chef smiles. “Think Kennedys, but without the tragedy and politics. He’s here with several business associates celebrating the close of a large merger. I heard they worked on it for close to a year.” By heard, she clearly means eavesdropped.
“Fascinating,” I say, completely bored, picking at the crumbs I dropped on the table.
“I forget you Seattle folk are bored by things such as wealth.”
“Bzzt.” I shake my head. “Wrong. I just prefer more salt of the earth people, you know? Not some silver-spooned, preppy prince. My dad was a mechanic and a nature guide. I spent my early life getting my hands dirty and learning about the people and places around me before going to school, and then I was exposed to even more people like him. I’m fine down here in the dungeon.”
“My, my, bit of an elitist attitude!” She raises her eyebrows at my tone.
“Uh, did you miss the part where he’s trying to bone Sarah off the boat?” I frown, wiping the crumbs off my hands.
“No, but did you miss the part where they’re two consenting adults?”
“Fine, guess I’m just—I don’t know. I shouldn’t judge off the experiences I had in the past.”
Chef nods and takes my plate from me. “You better hurry; lunch is getting ready to be served. God forbid Chief Stew doesn’t have all the fresh linen napkins he could possibly want.”
“I live to serve!” I salute her and hurry down the hall, filling the waiting carts the servers will use with freshly washed and starched white napkins.
I’m back in the laundry room later that afternoon, washing the sheets, when the captain comes over the intercom.
“Good afternoon, guests and crew of the Naiad. This is your captain speaking. Because of severe weather to the west, we are making a slight deviation to our course to avoid coming into its path. We will be back on course tomorrow evening. As such, we will be docking five hours later than normal tomorrow night and will have to make up the time in the morning. We apologize, as this doesn’t leave much time to explore the island. Please direct any and all questions to my First Mate John Henley; he’d be happy to assist you. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
I instantly think of Sarah and her mystery dude, wondering if it’s this hotshot Easton or one of the other snots he’s probably with. I think back to my time at Wharton and grimace. Though I’m thankful for my education and the job it provided me with afterwards, it opened my eyes to people I would have never come into contact with otherwise. Being the scholarship student at a school like that certainly put a target on my back, even if it was only a partial scholarship. Though taking out student loans didn’t help me blend in. Owing someone money wasn’t something these people were familiar with.
Or hard work, for that matter.
God, I wreak of bitterness, but I worked nearly fifty hours a week in a windowless office, staring at a computer so long my eyes were bloodshot by the time I left to go home to a man that I never wanted to have sex with, and I was fine with it. I was constantly tired. And he was ok with it because he was tired too.
God, Jamie.
Jamie Marks is a resident physician at Seattle General and works even more hours than I used to at my office job. Towards the end, we hadn’t been intimate in over seven months and neither of us complained. He’s a nice guy; he deserves someone who would make demands of him, someone who would force him to have balance in his life. Not someone who only saw him when they both fell exhausted into bed.
When I broke up with him, it was the first time I recalled seeing him blink in ages. I can’t tell if it was because it was the first time I’d actually looked at him in forever or because he was finally waking up too. Either way, he blinked, as if surprised, and then blinked again, looking more alert than I ever remembered him being.
He listened to me ramble about my dad, hugged me when I started to cry, and helped me collect all my stuff. Six years ending that abruptly shouldn’t have such an amicable breakup and it told me everything I needed to know.
I did the right thing.
“Did you hear it’s a hurricane?” someone whispers as they hurry past the laundry room door.
I shake off my memories and move closer to listen.
“Yes. Captain doesn’t want to alarm the guests. It did a complete one-eighty. It was supposed to head towards Puerto Rico, but it’s like it turned around and is coming right for us. I’m not sure we can get out of the way or dock in time.”
I hurry out into the corridor and see two young men—cabin crew, if I remember correctly—walking away from me. “Hey, wait!”
They stop abruptly and turn around; the dark haired one raises an eyebrow as if to say, “Yeah?”
“What did you hear?” I whisper.
He smiles reassuringly. “Don’t worry about it; the captain has it under control. You’re the new girl, right?”
“Taylor McKay.” I wave a little.
“I’m Brett.” He points to his blond, silent friend and says, “This is Chuck. You can ask for us later if you want an update. We’re friends with the first mate so we know what’s up before everyone else.” He stands up a little as he says this and grins broadly.
I narrow my eyes and cross my arms over my chest; what a self-important little douche. “Will do. Thank you so much!”
“No problem, ma’am.” Brett winks and I roll my eyes as I return to my duties.
Ma’am.
I’m maybe five years older than him, for God’s sake.
Later that evening, I wait until my roommate is asleep and all is quiet before I sneak upstairs. I don’t get to come up during the day often, but late at night when I’m sure the guests have gone off to bed or when everyone is gone on land, the deck is mine.
The second I clear the stairs and step onto the deck, I breathe easier. The sound of the yacht cutting through the water eases the tension in my body and I inhale the scent of the ocean, letting it fill my lungs.
It’s in these quiet moments that I feel closest to my dad. He loved the water and often, whenever I kissed his cheek, the taste of the sea would linger on my lips. I walk towards the back of the boat and tug my hair tie from my hair, relishing the wind tugging the strands loose.
I massage my scalp, grateful to have my hair down. I unbutton my shirt a little, wanting to feel more of the wind on my skin, and tug at the bottom of my shirt, hoping to loosen it from the confines of my skirt.
Sighing, I lean against the railing and watch the water, calm and motionless except for the movement our yacht makes as we glide along. It makes me wonder if all this talk of the incoming storm is just that…all talk.
I reach inside my shirt and pull my dad’s ring out, fingering the wide band of silver. The moonlight glints off it, the warmth and weight of it comforting in my palm. My dad made this ring, as well as my mother’s. They were married three years before she got pregnant with me. It was not an easy pregnancy; she was bedridden for most of it and in the end it was too much.
She died during the emergency C-section.
When I learned about what happened to my mother, the guilt I felt nearly crushed me: for killing her, for saddling my father with a life as a single parent. But he never placed any blame and refused to let me wallow.
He was the best.
And I tried to be everything so he wouldn’t regret having only me.
“Just live, squirrel. That’s all I ever wanted for you. To live.”
I blink the tears from my eyes and bring his ring to my lips, kissing it before placing it safely inside my shirt again. “I miss you, Daddy.”
I glance one more time out into the ocean before returning to my room to change. Shrugging on one of my dad’s old marathon shirts and some cotton shorts and grateful to finally be comfortable after a long day, I slip into the bed. Our mattresses here leave a lot to be desired, but the rocking of the boat and quiet breathing of my roommate both help lull me off to sleep.