“Hhhhuuuuuh!” Lucille gasped, her eyes boinging from their sockets.
I couldn’t believe it. This was no random act of sex we had stumbled upon. Au contraire, it was Sydney, and she’d been caught in flagrante delicto by her future mother-in-law. Sodom and Gomorrah on the Lido Deck. Yikes! Let the fireworks begin!
Sydney tried to cover herself, but what could she do with two hands and three private parts. It was impossible not to stare at her nuda (that’s Italian for naked) bits. I’m talking boiled-chicken naked, not a pube on her vajayjay. Her full, round breasts defied gravity. She obviously worked her tushy off to achieve that level of perfection. Sydney was a Greek goddess, a Girl Next Door, and a Victoria’s Secret model all rolled into one. Seeing Sydney Bass and her perfect ass(ets) helped me understand why men who had everything always wanted one of those for their very own.
“Promise you won’t tell Denis,” Sydney begged Lucille. “He’ll call off the wedding. You don’t want that.”
Tee-hee, I laughed (on the inside).
“What’s wrong with you?” Bunny said, sounding surprisingly lucid considering how liquored up she was. “You don’t fool around until you have a ring on your finger. How many times have I told you that?”
“I have to say something,” Carleen said.
“Don’t,” Lucille admonished. “This is our family business.”
“That’s what I mean, it’s business,” Carleen said. “The boy should marry for love.”
“A union with infidelity can never work,” I declared.
“Holly, hush,” Pops said. “Just because that was true for you doesn’t mean it’s true for everyone. C’mon, let’s give the lovers their privacy.” He gathered up his posse and moved them along. I’m singin’ in the rain, just singin’ in the rain…” The group skipped off with Lucille looking back nervously.
“Goddamn you, Manny,” Sydney said, retrieving her clothes, which were scattered about. “This is all your fault. Where’s my BlackBerry? I can’t find my BlackBerry.”
“You’re the one who likes to do it in public places,” Manny whined.
Captain sat on a deck chair and rubbed his foot. “I think you broke my toe.”
“Well, I’m sorry about that. If I’d known it was you, I wouldn’t have thrown it,” Sydney said. “Holly, you’ll cover for me if Lucille says anything, right?”
I gaped at Sydney and thought, Why would I want to help you? Why? But as I prided myself on not being impolite, I didn’t say that.
“Will you?” she pressed.
“You want me to lie for you?” I said. “Tell me, do you love him?”
“Who? Manny?”
“No. Denis,” I said.
Sydney rolled her eyes. “Why would you ask me such a ridiculous question?”
Thank you. I had my answer.
THAT NIGHT, I BARELY slept as the “little” storm Captain predicted raged, raged, raged against the dying of the night. The wind howled and the ship pitched and groaned like it was about to break in half. One of the tenders that hadn’t been tightly secured banged against the hull—boom, boom, boom. I peeked out the window and watched the lighting make the sea appear and disappear in gray ghostly flashes. Little storm? I think not. Oh, how I wished I’d never seen the remake of The Poseidon Adventure. I kept imagining a rogue wave whooshing out of nowhere and swamping the ship. Why hadn’t I mustered for the safety drill? Why? Of course, if we were to find ourselves capsized and upside down, it would be impossible for me to swim to safety, not with my terrible sense of direction. It felt like the night that wouldn’t end. Eventually, I must have passed out because next thing I knew, the sun was sifting through the part in my curtains and the ship had docked in Istanbul.
Just in Time
SINCE I WAS EXHAUSTED (and in deference to the Midnight Express prison), I turned over and went back to sleep. Sadly, I would miss the spice market, the grand bazaar, the Blue Mosque, and the Topkapi Palace, all of which I had been looking forward to seeing. I would just have to read about them in Fodor’s and pretend I’d actually visited for my friends back home if they asked. Could I be any sorrier about borrowing those Audrey costumes? Losing them was ten times worse than losing Alessandro, which, by the way, didn’t seem quite so tragique anymore.
A knock on my door interrupted my drowsy contemplation.
“Just a minute,” I said, thinking I must have forgotten to put out the Do not Disturb sign. Donning the luscious Frette bathrobe that came with the suite, I opened the door.
“May I come in?” John looked both ways.
“Of course,” I said, pointing toward my balcony. I slid open the glass door, stepped outside, and gestured for John to sit in one of my teak chairs.
“I have the trunk and your suitcase,” he said under his breath.
“Hhhhhh,” I gasped. “Already?” I said. “What time is it?”
“It is after ten o’clock. I retrieved them as soon as we docked. The trunk, it is hidden away in the ship where no one will find it. You needn’t give it another thought,” he said. “The bellman will bring your suitcase within the hour.”
A feeling of such enormous relief swept over me that I practically swooned. “Thank you,” I said, hugging him. “You have no idea how worried I was.”
“No, I could see you were concerned, but now you must relax and enjoy the rest of your trip,” he said. “I will deliver the trunk in Roma. Tell me, which museum is hosting the exhibit?”
“It’s the Istituto di Moda,” I said. “That’s in the Galleria Borghese.”
“I know it well.”
“Wait,” I said, “don’t you think we should inspect the trunk, make sure nothing’s missing?”
“I don’t believe it’s necessary,” John said. “Jorge said they realized the mistake when his passenger’s key wouldn’t open the lock. Nothing has been touched.”
I sighed with relief. “Let me pay you something extra for all your trouble,” I said, stepping inside to get my wallet out of
