I squirted out a dollop and rubbed it on my face and chest. It was just what the doctor ordered.
Then I noticed all the food on the table. “What did you do?” I said. After the rich meal we’d had flying over, I wasn’t very hungry (did I mention the private chef? Oh, yes, I believe I did). Still, a glass of wine would be perfect.
Denis turned and smiled. “It’s only a snack. See, there’s stuffed mussels, fried anchovies, some gnocchi, cheese.”
“Ooh, goody,” I said, taking a seat while the waiter politely bowed out.
Denis raised one eyebrow. Pouring us each a glass of wine, he made a toast. “To finding what we’re missing,” he said, as we clinked our glasses together.
“You mean the dresses?”
“That and anything else we might be missing,” he said mysteriously.
“What are you missing?” I asked, ever the sleuth.
“You said it before. The affections of a good woman.” He gazed into my eyes in loverlike fashion. “You know something? I wish to make a statement,” Denis declared. “I adore you.”
I choked, and coughed out the fried anchovy I’d just popped in my mouth. “Excuse me. Cheese?” I said, cutting him a slice and offering it. He took it out of my fingers with his mouth, chewing it slowly. Exotic-dancer slowly, if you know what I mean. I was starting to see where this was going and for reasons I can’t possibly explain, I panicked.
“You know, cheese is one of my favorite foods, always has been,” I said. “When I was growing up, we didn’t have much money and I always put cheese on my Christmas list. Goat cheese, very unusual in those days, but Pops was something of a gourmet. I asked for a pony too, a miniature one so I could keep it in the apartment. Never got that either. When we moved to Queens, I put Canadian ice wine on my list. I’d tasted it at a bar Pops played at and it was so delicious. But I was underage so he wouldn’t give it to me for Christmas. Do you think children should be allowed—”
Mercifully, the phone rang, interrupting my holiday rant.
“Wait, slow down,” Denis said. “You woke up and he was gone? Did you check the whole suite? Are you sure?”
He listened for a while, the furrow between his eyebrows deepening. “Annie, don’t be scared. You’re safe on the ship,” he said. “But I want you to go to Grandma’s cabin.”
“She’s not? Where is she?” he said evenly. “Okay, fine; put me on hold, call Sydney on the other line, and tell her I said you have to stay with her.”
Denis ran his fingers through his thick brown hair. “She didn’t answer? Where could she be?”
Oh, dear, I thought. Doesn’t Denis realize the ship is a veritable Peyton Place? I waved my arm like a nerdy schoolgirl. “If she can’t find Lucille, tell her to call Carleen. I’ll bet she can stay with her.”
Denis told her to ring Carleen, and if she wasn’t available, to call him back. “Jeez,” he said, “she woke up and Manny was gone. Syd’s not answering. Neither is my mother. Where is everyone?”
I checked my watch and realized it was after eleven. For some intuitive reason, I said, “Maybe they’re at the bar.”
“You’re right.”
I backed up my chair and yawned. “You know, I’m beat. Do you mind if I go to bed?”
“Sure, of course,” Denis said, standing like a gentleman. “I want to call the bar anyway.”
“Well, good night,” I said, giving him a friendly wave. “Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.” Oh, you are lame, I thought miserably, toddling off to my room. Alone.
Mad About the Boy
WHEN I WOKE UP the next morning, my first thought was not of the possibility that I had blown it with Denis the night before, not of the luxurious hotel room or luscious feather bed in which I found myself, not of the fact that for the first time in six months, I hadn’t slept with my headgear and it felt great. No, the first thing that came to my mind was the missing trunk and the very real possibility I would go to jail if it wasn’t found. This did not feel liberating in the least. So I put all thoughts of incarceration out of my head and told myself that we’d find the dresses today.
Making my way to the bathroom, I took a shower and got back into the soft, fluffy robe. My stomach was making little noises that I hoped Denis would find cute, if not adorable. Poking my head into the living room, I spotted him reading a coral-colored newspaper.
“Morning,” he said, looking up, smiling. “Hungry?”
“Starved.”
“I want to take you out to breakfast, but in keeping with our tradition, here’s some pink champagne to tide you over.”
“Ooh, yummy, how nice of you,” I said. Our first tradition, I marveled, and what better tradition than champagne for breakfast! Looking at that sweet face, those earnest brown eyes, the cleft in his chin, the dimples when he smiled, even that teddy-bear frame, I realized what a good heart he had and how much I wanted him. That was why I couldn’t be with him last night. I needed him to care. A casual fling would kill me after what happened with Alessandro. Well, maybe not kill me, but it would seriously wound me.
“Was everything okay with Annie?”
Denis took a sip of bubbly. “Yes, Mom was in the bar like you thought. She took care of her.”
I held out my flute and Denis
