He smiled slightly. “Yes, I remember.”
“How could you forget? I’m still mortified at the thought.”
Timothy shook his head. “You shouldn’t let such things bother you. People drink, they go a little crazy. It’s nothing new. We see it all the time.”
Beth nodded. “One of the perks of the job, I guess.”
These people lived and worked on this ship 24/7 for weeks on end, so she imagined they did see quite a lot of crazy behavior. Enough to make Jen’s display last night fairly innocu “Hey, Sis.”
Beth snapped her head around and saw Jen crossing the dining room toward her.
Jen looked-to coin one of Peter’s favorite phrases-as if she’d been rode hard and put away wet. “I was hoping I’d find you here.”
She pulled out a chair and sat, leaning her elbows on the table. Her eyelids were drooping. Not that this made her any less beautiful.
“Just coffee for me,” she said to Timothy.
Timothy gave Beth a quick look, then with a small bow said, “I’ll put in your order,” before disappearing into the kitchen.
“If I were alive,” Jen said, “I’d say he’s kinda cute. Is he the same one from last night?”
“You don’t remember?”
“They all wear those gold tunics, it’s hard to keep them straight. Besides, I think I’ve lived about three lifetimes since then. Are you still mad at me?”
“Mad?” Beth said. “I wasn’t the one screaming to be left alone.”
“I’m sorry, okay? You know how I get when I’m high.”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
Jen frowned. “Look at you, still in mom mode. You really have to find a new hobby, Beth. I can’t keep you entertained forever.”
Beth just stared at her. “You’re about as entertaining as a train wreck.”
“Nice. Tell me how you really feel.”
“I’m sick of it, Jen. You only invited me on this trip because Debbie flaked out. You give me all this bullshit about wanting to help me work through the divorce, and the first chance you get, you’re off fucking Bob and Betty Beautiful-who, I might add, are brother and sister — and I’m stuck watching Keanu Reeves stand in for Michael Rennie.”
“In other words, you are still mad.”
Beth shook her head, exasperated.
“I give up,” she said, then pushed her chair back and rose. “I want off this goddamn ship. And once we get into port, I’m catching the next plane back home.”
“Oh, for godsakes, don’t be so dramatic.”
“Dramatic?”
“I told you I was going to get laid, so I got laid.”
“You’re disgusting, you know that?”
“Look, I don’t know what you think happened last night, but you’re wrong.”
“Am I? It didn’t look that way to me.”
“We were dancing, okay? Just messing around. If it makes you feel any better, when it came time to do the dirty deed, it was just me and Rafael. Marta didn’t come to the room until later.” She smiled. “Not that I would’ve minded a little extra attention…”
Beth eyed her dully. “Enjoy the rest of the cruise. I’m out of here.”
She started to walk away, then Jen said, “You’re just jealous.”
Beth stopped in her tracks, spun around. “What?”
“You’ve always been jealous. You were in-what-your second year of college before you lost your virginity? I was already working on orgasm number two thousand fourteen by then.”
It took everything Beth had to keep her jaw from dropping. “Are you even listening to yourself?”
“You want to know the real reason I hung out with the Santiagos last night? Because they make me feel good. Like someone special. They let me be me, without apology. And all I ever get from you is disapproval. Do you know how many times in our life you’ve treated me like an adult? Zero.”
Beth squinted at her. “So what exactly are you saying? You don’t feel special because I don’t pump you full of drugs and use you for a sex toy? You need therapy, Jen. The sooner, the better.”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”
“All I know,” Beth said, “is that we dock in Playa Azul in less than twenty minutes. And as soon as we get there, I’m gone.”
And with this, she turned on her heels and headed for the exit.
20
She was navigating the narrow hallway to their stateroom when Jen caught up with her.
“Beth, wait!”
Beth waved a hand at her. “Enough. I’ve had enough.”
“Look, I’m sorry for being so cranky. I’m hungover and haven’t had any-”
“There’s always an excuse.”
“It’s not an excuse. It’s a reason.”
Beth said nothing. Just shook her head, then shoved her key card into the slot and opened their stateroom door.
Jen grabbed her arm. “Beth, please. Don’t be mad. We’re family, for godsakes. We’re not supposed to be pissed at each other. At least not to the point that you’re ready to hop on a plane.”
“Oh, I’m not mad. I’m just jealous, remember?”
Jen sighed. “And I’m an idiot, okay?”
Beth didn’t want to cry but felt the tears start to well up.
“You’re just like Peter, you know that? One minute you treat me like shit; the next you’re trying to make nice. I can’t take it anymore.”
“Oh, come on, Sis, don’t cry. I…” She stood back suddenly and patted her chest. “Go ahead, punch me. Right in the boob job. I deserve it.”
“I don’t want to punch you.”
“I’m serious. I’m a complete bitch and you’re right about everything and I deserve to be punched.”
“Now you’re being ridiculous.”
Beth pushed through the doorway and stepped inside, flicking on the light.
Jen followed her. “Are you really leaving?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Beth moved to the closet, slid open the door, and started pulling her clothes off the hangers. “Because I shouldn’t’ve come in the first place.”
“How can you say that?”
Beth looked at her. “You were right about me. I am jealous. I’m jealous of your ability to say ‘fuck you’ to everyone around you and never take responsibility for a goddamn thing.”
“That isn’t fair.”
Beth pulled her suitcase out and threw it on her bunk. “No, it isn’t fair. I’ve spent my entire life trying to be the rational one. The stable one. I thought coming on this trip might be my chance to let go for once, but as usual, I wind up playing babysitter.”
“You choose that role. I’ve never asked you to watch over me.”
Beth opened the suitcase and threw her clothes in, not bothering to fold them. “But I’m the first one you come running to whenever you screw up, aren’t I?”
“Who am I supposed to go to? Mom and Dad?”
“Very funny.”
She returned to the closet and bent down, gathering up her shoes. She’d spent fifteen minutes washing Jen’s vomit off her Kenneth Coles last night, but just the sight of them made her stomach turn, so she left them behind.
Jen watched her dump the rest of the shoes into her suitcase. “You’re really doing this, aren’t you.”
“Yes,” Beth said. “I told you, I shouldn’t have come. I’ve got cases piling up-I don’t know why I let you talk me into this trip in the first place.”
Jen said nothing. Just stared at her a moment, then moved to her bunk and sat, looking down at her hands.
Then she said, “You know what next week is, right? Next Wednesday?”
“What?”
“The twenty-seventh. Fourteen years since they died.”
Beth felt her gut tighten.
Jen turned her left hand palm up and began tracing the lines with a finger.
“I remember once, a long time ago, I read a book about palmistry and all I wanted to do when I grew up was be a fortune-teller. How stupid is that?”
“Pretty stupid,” Beth said.
“I learned about the head line, the life line, the heart line…and one day, when we were home for the weekend, I asked Dad if I could read his palm.” She smiled at the memory. “He had really strong hands, you know that?”
Beth sat on her own bunk, nodded. “I know.”
Jen’s smile faded. “When I started to do the reading, the first thing I noticed was his life line. It was really short. And I thought, This is not good. This is not good at all.” She paused, looked up at Beth. “But then I told myself I must’ve misunderstood what I’d read. So I didn’t say anything to him. I just made up some bullshit prediction about his future, then went off to watch Saved by the Bell. ”