I went by the infirmary on my way out for lunch. Betty and Rico were sitting and playing Texas Hold ’em, a poker game I’d seen my nephews play before. “Hey, how’s it going?”
Betty gave me a smile. I relaxed a little and started to believe what Purser Bernard had said, about her already knowing we were rooming together and that I’d enjoy it.
“He’s royally kicking my arse,” Betty said. She laughed. “I’m glad we’ll be rooming together, Pauline. You’ve had a terrible welcome onboard.”
I nodded and smiled. “Thanks. I was starting to feel very unwelcome indeed.” We all chuckled and then I excused myself to go eat, feeling way better than I had a few minutes ago.
I intended to eat with the crew today but as I stepped on the elevator, I heard my mother’s voice. “Well, it’s about time you decided to join us, Pauline.”
Mother was dressed in a yellow-and-green floral muumuu. She looked very Hawaiian despite her Polish features of a not so tiny nose and grayish eyes like mine.
Daddy had on white Bermuda shorts and a shirt that almost matched mother’s outfit, except it had hibiscus on it where hers had bird of paradise.
They looked eerie and adorable all at the same time.
I swallowed back an explanation of my prior plans and decided to join them. “Where are you off to?”
“Not the buffet, Pauline,” Mother said and stabbed at the main lobby button.
“Of course not. By the way, I just called you. I changed cabins.” Suddenly I wondered if they knew about Jackie yet. Damn. They would be so worried. Of course I had no intention of bringing it up and wondered if the FBI really was going to question all the passengers. I figured they would, but it would take some time. I imagined they’d start with anyone who might be involved or knew Jackie.
“What was wrong with your cabin?” Daddy asked.
They didn’t know. “Oh, something to do with the crew. I’m bunking with this adorable British woman, Betty.”
Thank goodness the elevator opened to the lobby and we stepped out.
“Suga!”
I swung around to see Goldie and Miles hurrying toward us. All of a sudden, I felt as if I’d inhaled my mother’s pine-scented Renuzit. A warm feeling, a feeling of family, friends and comfort, settled inside me. Obviously I needed to be with the gang for a few hours.
“Hey, guys!” I ran forward and hugged them.
Miles held me a second too long. “What’s wrong?” he said.
I whispered, “I’ll tell you later,” and said much louder, “I really missed you two characters!”
Soon we were seated in the main dining room and ordering from the menu. I looked up to see Goldie staring at me, concern in his big green eyes. If mother knew why I had switched rooms, her look would be similar-with an added order to get off the ship immediately.
I winked at him and watched him stab a forkful of his Caesar salad. Goldie had on navy slacks with a white nautical-print sweater. Gold braids dangled to his designer epaulets, and a navy knot hung against his chest. Tiny blue earrings, like little waves, swayed from his earlobes. The added touch was a navy-and-gold headband which held up auburn and golden curls around his head. Looked very “I Love Lucy,” with a twenty-first-century chic.
I wondered who had more wigs, him or Dolly Parton.
My parents told us all about their “adventures,” from bowling to swimming (which meant standing in the three-foot section of the pool) to dancing to an old band that they said sounded like Les Brown and His Orchestra. We all smiled at how they went on and on until mother yelled, “Yoo-hoo!” and waved at someone frantically.
I turned to look where she was waving.
Jagger stood in the doorway. A blonde was on his left, a brunette on his right, and trying to get into the scene was a redhead who could give Goldie a run for his money.
My Caesar salad rose in my throat.
Mother made small talk with Jagger about his being here and wasn’t that nice, and I kept interrupting every time she started to say his real name. She scolded me and he excused himself. Probably more to get away from her and then to prevent her from blowing his cover.
“You really were rude, Pauline.” She summoned the waiter. “Is everyone ready to order their lunch?”
“My salad is my lunch, Mother.” I took another forkful and chewed.
“Nonsense. You need some protein.”
If she started to get into my lack of calcium, I would politely get up and leave. We’d been through that in the past. Before I knew it, my mother was ordering a steak, medium rare, for me and one for herself. Goldie and Miles went with the pan-seared tuna, while Daddy ordered kielbasa and sauerkraut. It would never compare to my mother’s though.
My mother fixed the same meal on each day of every week. Monday was meatloaf. Saturday was kielbasa and sauerkraut. How sweet that Daddy kept up the tradition when he could have had anything from prime rib to lobster.
“Could I speak to you a minute, Pauline?”
I turned to see Jagger standing above me.
Mother’s eyes gleamed. “Why don’t you join us, Mr. Jagger?”
Thank goodness he was alone and politely managed to get out of the invitation with the excuse that he was working. I got up and followed him toward the bar. Near the corner, he turned and stopped. “Why did they move you?”
“Which time?” I laughed, but Jagger didn’t.
I told him about playing “musical rooms,” adding how I was so glad to be bunking with Betty instead of Topaz.
“Topaz…interesting,” he said.
I tried to read his facial expression as to whether that meant she was a weirdo, as I thought, or that he was interested in her.
I went with the former, hoping to influence fate.
“Meet me after lunch on the deck where we were last night.”
I started to ask for directions, but thought I’d sound stupid, so I just nodded. I had noticed the waiter passing out dishes at our table. “Fine. I better get back before my meal gets cold.” Soon mother would be “yoo-hooing” me to come back. Before she made a scene, Jagger walked me over.
He held my arm very gently-only as if to guide me. Not any really good physical contact. When we got closer to the table, his grip tightened.
“Ouch!” I tried to swallow it back, but wasn’t fast enough.
Everyone at the table stared at me. I was ready to turn to Jagger and ask what the hell he was doing, and then I looked down at my plate.
There sat a two-inch-thick rib eye steak smothered in sautéed mushrooms and onions. And standing at attention directly in the middle was a gold-handled dolphin knife.
Seven
Jagger caught me before I could run out, scream, or otherwise make a scene and scare my family, although his hold was anything but nonchalant. He leaned forward and whispered, “Take it easy, Sherlock.”
My body relaxed-which turned out to be a mistake. Now I could feel his strong chest muscles and my mind flittered from a dead Jackie with a steak knife in her back to Jagger being the sexiest man onboard.
I pulled my thoughts to the present and told myself to cut it out. I was a professional investigator. Slowly I eased away from said chest and took my seat. My appetite was gone. How could I eat this steak when the knife was such as a dreminder…?
After several minutes, Goldie leaned over. “If you don’t want that, Miles and I’ll split it.” He said it softly, obviously so my mother couldn’t hear.
I looked at the steak, the knife still in place. “Have at it.”
“Is that Cary Grant over there?” Goldie shouted.
Mother turned and said, “I sure hope not, since the man has been dead for years.”