Mira seemed to be hauling a bale of sequins, chiffon and ruffles. Her small, pretty face looked more doll-like than ever surrounded by taffeta and satin.
“Can you help me carry this?” She didn’t wait for an answer. Mira plopped half the pile into Helen’s arms.
Evening dresses, Helen thought. With grimy hems, grubby trim and a slight scent of sweat and mildew.
“Where did you get the fancy clothes?” Helen asked.
“Little secondhand shop in Nassau,” she said. “I can’t wait to show my boyfriend.”
She held up a formfitting red evening dress that looked too long for her. Then she pulled out a shopworn rainbow—green, gold and blue—sparkling with sequins, jewels and bugle beads. There were filmy formal skirts and a passel of ruffled petticoats. Some of the dresses were bedraggled. Others had split seams and missing beading.
Helen searched for some tactful words. “Where will you wear them?”
“Oh, they’re not for me,” Mira said. “I bought them for my boyfriend.”
“And he’s a—?” Cross-dresser? Helen wondered.
“Actor in a Fort Lauderdale theater company,” Mira said. “They’re doing a production of
Helen’s stomach turned at the thought of eating off a table that had held those dirty clothes. “Can we put down something first?” she asked.
“Good idea. Use the drop cloth in the cabinet.”
Helen put her pile on the floor, then spread out the drop cloth. Mira dumped her mound of gaudy dresses on the table. Helen heaped hers next to them. A worn red velvet gown with fake rubies at the neck slid off the table. Mira caught it, folded it neatly and started another pile.
“It must be fun to date an actor,” Helen said.
“It is,” Mira said, folding a clingy black dress. “I like Kevin’s job and his friends. Even though they’re actors, they’re more real than the people on this yacht. The owners and their friends, I mean.”
“Sounds like you’re tired of your job,” Helen said.
“I am. It’s no secret. I’ve been a stew for five years,” Mira said. “I’m nearly thirty. It’s time for a change. The money is good and I’ve managed to save some. I’m going to invest in Kevin’s theater company. They’re short of money, like most companies, and if they don’t get a cash infusion soon, they’ll close. Kevin would be lost without his theater. I want him to be happy.”
“Is this your last trip on the
“No, I have one more and then my contract is up. I can’t wait to collect that last paycheck. Then I’m outta here. What about you? You have a boyfriend, right?”
“Phil,” Helen said, and smiled. “I can’t wait to see him when we get back.”
“I can tell by the way you smiled this dude is the one,” Mira said, folding a pale blue gown with sparkles on the full skirt.
“He is,” Helen said.
“Good,” Mira said. “Then I don’t have to deliver the lecture about island men I give the new stews.”
“Tell me anyway,” Helen said.
“A lot of island men are good-looking. They have pretty accents and lovin’ ways. The girls think what happens in the islands doesn’t count. So they have an island boyfriend or two and think the dude back home won’t ever know. But some of those handsome men give our young stews souvenirs—the kind that are hard to cure.”
“Got it,” Helen said.
“It’s not just the stews,” Mira said. “I’ve known a wife or two who told her husband she was spending the afternoon at a spa. It wasn’t a facial that gave her that glowing complexion.”
Mira folded the last dress, a grimy white formal with a rhinestone bodice. Now she had a stack nearly as tall as she was. “These are too bulky to keep in my cabin,” she said. “I share with Suzanne and we can barely move around.”
“Want to keep them in my cabin?” Helen said. “You can put them on Louise’s side of the closet.”
“That’s very generous,” Mira said. “But I’d better not, in case they have fleas or roaches. Lots of critters in the tropics, and some of them hitchhike home. Suzanne nearly dropped a plate when a big spider crawled out of some bananas she brought on board.”
“Ick.” Helen shuddered.
“I’ll pack these in a waterproof duffel and store it in the bosun’s locker.”
“Aren’t you afraid someone will take them?” Helen asked.
Mira laughed. “If the boys unzip this bag and see ruffles and sequins, they’ll drop it like it’s hot.”
CHAPTER 26
Sam was drunk as a sailor.
At three in the morning, the deckhand staggered up the gangplank with a bottle of rum, stumbled through the aft deck and tumbled down the steps into the crew mess. He stayed flat on his back, not moving. His sun-streaked blond hair hung in his eyes. His mouth hung open.
Helen, who’d been nodding off over a mug of coffee at the table, was instantly awake. “Sam, are you hurt?” she asked. “Say something.”
“Oops!” he said, and waved the half-empty rum bottle in the air.
Okay, his right arm isn’t broken, Helen thought.
“Can you sit up?” she asked.
“Don’t wanna. Room keeps spinnin’,” he said.
Then he sat up and cradled the bottle. “Saved the rum. Save the baby rums. They’re en-endangererer—in trouble!”
“Right,” Helen said. “Let’s get you to bed. You have to get up at six.”
“Cap’n back yet?” he asked.
“Everybody’s here except the owners and guests,” Helen said, taking his arm. “We don’t want them to see you. Come on. Time to go to your cabin.”
Sam grabbed the crew mess table and pulled himself upright, swaying as if the yacht were plowing through heavy seas. Helen put her arm around his waist and guided Sam down the crew passage.
The deckhand was at that stage of intoxication where he loved the world. “You’re nice,” he said. “You got a boyfriend?”
“Yes,” Helen said.
“Thought so. Nice girls all got boyfriends. The good ones are taken. That leaves the bad ones for me.” Sam gave Helen a lopsided grin. “Lots of those. Mira’s a nice girl, too.” He hiccuped. “An’ she has a boyfriend. We’re friends. Just friends. Me and Mira. ’Cause Mira’s a nice girl. She’d do anything for Kevin. She said she’d steal for him, even kill for him. She loves him that much. She tole me.”
“Good for her,” Helen said, sliding open the door to the cabin Sam shared with Matt. The bosun was curled up asleep.
“Sh!” Helen said, and pulled back the blanket on the lower bunk. Sam fell on it, fully dressed. Helen pulled off his deck shoes. By the time she’d covered up the deckhand, he was asleep, his arms wrapped about the rum bottle like it was a teddy bear.
Helen’s radio crackled at her belt and she hurried out before she woke up Matt and Sam.
