Down Among the Dead Men

5

Dining on a cruise ship is an elaborate affair.

Long, intricately set tables crowded with your shipmates, some of whom are dressed to the nines. Two or more waiters. A five-course gourmet meal that has the potential to be mediocre but is actually quite good considering the amount of food being pumped out of the ship’s kitchen.

Beth ordered an escargot appetizer, a Caesar salad, seafood chowder, medallions of beef, a plate of cheeses, and a scoop of green tea ice cream. A definite case of eyes bigger than stomach.

They’d been surrounded by food from the moment they’d first stepped foot onto the ship that afternoon, but Beth had passed on the burgers and greasy fries and pizza slices and soft-serve ice cream offered upstairs on the pool deck. And by the time dinner came around, she was famished.

Jen, on the other hand, had opted for a liquid diet and was drunk before the meal was half-over. Ordering only an appetizer and a small salad, she washed it all down with a couple of colorful rum drinks that came in tall glasses carrying the cruise line’s logo. Add that to the three Dos Equis good old Julio had served her by the pool, and it wasn’t long before she was a candidate for the Long Beach drunk tank.

Of course, they were quite a distance from port at that point, so Beth figured it didn’t much matter. Still, she tried more than once to get Jen to slow down, but Jen wouldn’t have it.

“Loosen up, Aunt Martha, I’m just getting started.”

The problem was that she was wildly unpredictable when she got drunk. Or just plain wild. Once the liquid started flowing, you never knew which Jen would surface, and while all were quite beautiful, few of them were pretty.

By the time dessert was served, she was well into an unapologetic flirt session with the newlywed husband sitting next to her. Much to the chagrin of his sadly mousy wife.

Maybe “flirt” was too mild of a word. This was an all-out, full-frontal assault.

“Let’s go dancing. You wanna go dancing?”

“I–I don’t really dance,” the man said, shooting his wife an awkward glance.

“Oh? You look like a dancer to me.” Jen reached over and squeezed his bicep. “There’s a lot of muscle under that fancy jacket.”

The man colored slightly, then shrugged. “I work out.”

“Ugh,” Jen said, then put her lips to her straw and took a noisy final slurp of her second drink. “I can’t stand working out. The sight of all those treadmills up in the gym gives me hives. If I’m gonna get sweaty it had better be worth my while, if you know what I mean.”

Her speech was slurred, but she managed that patented Jen fuck-me smile, and Beth wondered what had happened to her newfound lust for Julio.

“When I need to shed a few pounds,” Jen continued, “I just call the man with the magic wand.”

The newlywed’s face went beet red then and Jen laughed and shook her head.

“Not that kind of wand, dummy. My surgeon.”

“Surgeon?”

“You know. Liposuction?” She waved an imaginary lipo wand in the air, then turned in her chair, facing him, and leaned back slightly. It was a tricky maneuver for someone so drunk, but she managed to avoid falling on the floor. “Take a guess.”

“About what?”

She cupped her breasts through the black fabric of her cocktail dress. It was obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra. Not that she needed one.

“How much you think these babies cost me?”

Beth pushed her ice cream aside. “All right, Jennifer, that’s enough.”

Jen shot her a look, then turned again to the newlywed. “Well? How much?”

Despite his scowling wife, the man stared openly at Jen’s offering, and Beth knew there’d be storm clouds in the honeymoon suite tonight.

“I dunno. A couple grand?”

Jen laughed. “A couple grand? Where does your wife get her work done? JC Penney’s?”

Her voice-almost a screech now-rose above the din of the dining room. Not only were most of the people at the table gaping at her (forks held in suspended animation above their creme brulees and flourless chocolate cakes), but a few from the adjoining tables were staring as well.

“Jen, please, you’re drunk. Let’s go back to the cabin.”

Ignoring Beth, Jen turned to the elderly couple directly across from her and smiled at the silver-haired husband.

“Tell me the truth now. Do these look like they’re only worth a measly two grand?”

And with that, she unceremoniously yanked down the top of her dress, exposing herself to their small corner of the world.