The Trouble With Paradise

the bottom, they were galvanized by a sudden drumming sound.

“What’s that?” Brandy gasped as it grew louder and louder. “A pack of angry bees on crack?”

“Rain.” Andy sounded grim. “Torrential rain.”

They stood belowdecks, huddled together in the middle of the dimly lit hallway. When the boat pitched again, Brandy gasped and grabbed the closest person-Andy. “Sorry, hon, but my pill is kicking in. Take me to bed, sailor?”

Andy glanced at Dorie, clearly torn, which was incredibly sweet. Sweet was on her list. She liked her list. “We’ll be okay,” she assured him.

“I’ll be right back.” He slipped an arm around Brandy and steered her toward her room.

“I don’t like storms.” Cadence said this very quietly to Dorie. “Especially when I’m on a boat in the middle of the ocean.”

Dorie thought of the men above deck. Particularly Christian, putting his life on the line. “Me either.”

They could hear the shouts of the crew. “Bobby, wrestle down the reefed mainsail!” This from Denny, clearly taut and angry. “Jesus, get the number three jib! Speed it up!”

More drumming rain, even louder if that was possible.

“Shorten sail, shorten the fucking sail, Bobby!” Denny yelled, and then Ethan’s voice joined his. “Come on, man, get with it!”

Dorie swallowed hard. “Sounds… intense.”

“And not very encouraging,” Cadence whispered.

“Oh, you know sailors.” Dorie smiled, trying to be brave. “They make everything sound so dangerous.”

The boat rolled. They crashed into each other, where they remained together, hugging tightly. “So you don’t think…” Cadence started.

“No. Absolutely not.” But in spite of herself, Dorie’s cheerful tone faded just a little bit as around them the wind howled and screeched, the rain continuing to come down at deafening decibels. She thought about the boat sitting on the churning, swirling, massive waves, being flung about like a bath toy, and wasn’t comforted.

Every few seconds it seemed they’d hear something crack or crash, and would wince in tandem.

Was the sailboat falling apart?

She didn’t want to think about what would happen if it did just that, because it would mean getting onto a ten-man raft out on that sea.

If the eighty-two-foot Sun Song couldn’t survive the seas, how could a raft?

That, in a crux, was the source of panic balled in her throat. “Stay calm.”

“Calm,” Cadence repeated. “Right. I’m calm.”

“Actually, I was talking to myself.” They held on to each other like orphaned baby monkeys as they pitched up and down and every which way.

“We’re going to capsize,” Cadence whispered.

“No. No, we’re going to be fine.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I didn’t finish living yet.” Truth be told, she hadn’t really even started. “Just stay positive. That’s the trick. Stay positive.”

That’s when the lights went out.

SEVEN

Forget the cabana boys,

send out the Coast Guard.

And chocolate…

Are you still thinking positively?” Cadence whispered.

“Yes.” Or trying anyway, Dorie thought.

“I really don’t want to be a statistic.”

“We are not going to become a statistic.” Not as certain as she’d needed to sound, Dorie’s voice wobbled just a little bit on the last syllable. “The key is the whole positive thinking thing.”

“Not my strong suit. The positive part, that is. Not the thinking.”

Dorie felt a smile at that. “Okay, humor is good. More of that, please.”

“I’m fresh out.”

It was up to her. Great. Positive thinking… well, there was the food. The food had been good. And-

The boat swayed. Hard. Cadence whimpered in terror, and so did Dorie at the sensation of floating on choppy water while not being able to see a damn thing. With the electricity out, there was utter and complete darkness such as she’d never known; no city lights, no glow from a computer screen or cell phone.

Nothing.

Cadence let out a small sob as panic gripped her, and Dorie felt her heart squeeze. “I know!” Fumbling through her purse in the dark, her fingers finally closed over what she’d been looking for.

Her penlight.

She clicked it on, and a small beam of light cut through the dark.

Cadence threw her arms around her. “I love you!”

Dorie laughed and hugged her back. “It’s the bag. This baby has everything we need.” She flicked the light down the narrow hallway just as the boat tipped and listed hard to the right. With no warning, they both went flying against the wall, as did Dorie’s purse, which flew out of her hands, slid down the floor, and emptied out everywhere.

Dorie went crawling after it on all fours, and Cadence went after her. But then the boat rocked to the left, and to the left they all went; Dorie, Cadence, and brush, dental floss, sketch pad, charcoal, sugar packets, box of condoms…

They landed in a tangled heap at the end of the hallway, and slowly, a little dazed, used the light to stuff the things back into the purse.

“Good thinking,” Cadence said, holding up the condoms.

“More like wishful thinking.” Dorie put the box in the bag. “They were on sale.”

“You bought a box of condoms because they were on sale?”

“Yes. You can see why I needed this cruise.” Dorie slung the strap of the purse over her neck and shoulder, tucking it against her back. “You okay?”

“As long as you have that light.”

“Want to know something pretty pathetic?”

The boat swayed and dipped again, and they grabbed each other, huddled there on the floor in the hallway. “Yes,” Cadence said, sounding desperate for a diversion.

“I even have a spare flashlight.”

“That’s not pathetic, that’s just smart. Oh, God.”

“What?”

“My motion sickness patch isn’t working.”

The boat did some more of that horrible shimmying, and Dorie gulped hard. “It’s going to be okay.” God, please let it be okay.

“I wanted a kick in the ass,” Cadence said. “But I wanted a change in my life, not death. I don’t even have a will.”

Dorie let out a weak laugh. “Me either. But I hereby will all my worldly possessions to you. How’s that?”

“Oh, Dorie,” she said, sounding unbearably touched.

“Don’t get too excited, all I have is a portfolio of designs.”

“If I die, you can have my stuff, too. It’s just my art, and my fish Sparky, who sleeps upside down, but he