Caribbean Crossroads (11 page)

Jillian stared at Megan for a moment then shook her head. “Wow. You’ve got it bad.” With a consoling look she patted Megan’s knee. “The good news is that I’m here and you will not get away with hiding from Abs Man, nor ruining your chance for something good. Big Sister Jillian’s got your back.”

“Oh, no you don’t. Remember your promise,” said Megan, starting to worry. She’d just opened up with her unspoken feelings and now they would be used against her?

Jillian walked to the door, dropping her brush on the vanity counter.

“Campaign promises, my Megs. Oh, and I have a
message
for you from a certain someone.” She stood with a sly smile.

Megan was about to reply when she realized what Jillian had said. She dabbed her forehead with the towel feigning boredom, though her insides felt a small swirl.

“Someone asked specifically to have breakfast with you.”

“I’m not hungry.” This was suddenly true.

She paused dramatically. “It was Brittany Shay Weller—don’t forget the Shay—and she
personally
requested you meet her at the Satrboard Dining Room. At nine thirty.” She added a Princess Wave.

“You are evil,” said Megan, as Jillian closed the door behind her.

What in the world would Brittany want to talk to her about?

***

Thirty minutes later Megan entered the almost empty Starboard Dining Room. She felt slightly nauseous, praying in conversation she wouldn’t betray any supposed interest in Bryant, while at the same time not seeming unnaturally uninterested. Maybe Brittany wanted to tell her mitts off, he was still hers. Or maybe that she stunk doing salsa. Or tips on how to do a Princess Wave.

Brittany caught Megan’s eye and motioned her over.

 “You got my message, terrific. I hope this is okay for you?” She smiled openly, completely disarming. In an odd flash, Megan remembered visiting a tiger exhibit in the zoo as a child. That part had been the most intriguing to her. Beautiful, tropical surroundings. Soft, thick fur.

Big teeth.

Sitting down, Megan dismissed the image knowing the unfair judgment came only because Brittany was a former flame of Bryant’s. And, that she was gorgeous. And nice.

Grrr.

A waiter approached. Everyone usually did the buffet but Brittany preferred a waiter.

“Eduardo, do you have freshly squeezed orange juice?” The enamel sentinels stood at charming attention.

“Si.” Eduardo smoothed his hair.

“How long ago was it squeezed?”

“Half an hour.”

“Can you have them squeeze some fresh?”

“Si, Senorita Brittany.”

“And bring the two American specials,” she inquired at Megan. “I ordered ahead and had them kept warm, is that all right?” Megan nodded. Brittany turned back to Eduardo, smiling again, who bowed and with a lingering deferential look, made for the kitchen.

Megan played with her water glass.

Brittany shifted in her seat. “Listen, I haven’t had a chance before now to really talk. It’s been a bit crazy with the board and their constant networking needs, with all they’re trying to change up. Seeing as my mother has an ad-hoc seat, I get roped into a lot of things.”

Megan couldn’t figure out for the life of her where this was going. Brittany ran a finger through her sweeping white-blonde bangs.

“What I wanted to say was—well, to apologize for opening night.” Brittany stared straight at Megan without flinching. “It was my fault, all mine. I already spoke to Clint about it.”

Megan opened her mouth slightly. “Really? I—”

“I’ve had a lot on my mind. Some things, wonderful things, are happening and I did not have my head in the game. It wasn’t like me. Well, not usually on opening night.” She shrugged.       Disarmingly sweet and genuine. Bummer.

“Thanks, I appreciate that,” said Megan, cautiously. “I was fairly sure it was me. Likely still was, in some form, anyway.”

“Well, I wanted to clear the air. About a few things.” She paused, tipping her head to one side slightly, as if thinking how to approach her next thought. “I understand—I’m aware of some conversation, and, well, let’s just say, in case people are wondering, Bryant and I are”—she paused for the right words—“not an item. Not in any sense, not for a long time now.”

Conversation? Ah, the girl chat at the Meet & Greet.

Megan hoped her face didn’t bely panic, and immediately wondered how much Brittany knew. Thankfully, Eduardo arrived with the fresh juice and breakfast plates, then excused himself with a low bow. Megan busied herself with the food.
Not an item. Not for a long time.

Brittany opened a salt substitute packet, easily continuing the conversation. “It actually helps us better now. You know men, when you’ve had an emotional connection it helps when you dance. Makes it seem more real. Like the way he holds me, or looks at me, like he’s really looking. But that’s just performing. It helps for others to know it doesn’t mean anything in particular.” Brittany looked at Megan purposefully.   

At that moment, Brittany’s words felt true. At least, Megan wanted them to be true. She remembered the way he had looked at Brittany during the dance—close, caring, romantic. But as soon as they were done, he broke apart, like they’d been studying calculus. She felt momentary solace.

But then, what did that mean for the way he had been with her in the Green Room, winking at her on stage, talking with her in the cinema? Was that just performing? Did it not mean anything?

“So did you two date a long time?” Megan ventured as far as was wise. She focused on cutting her eggs.

 “Oh, you know how it goes, especially in the performance business.” Brittany carefully scooted out ham chunks from her egg whites and pushed them to the side. “We met at Three Pines College and hit it off right away. He was more gung-ho than I was, but, that’s Bryant. When he sees what he wants, he’s kind of laser beam about it.” She laughed lightly. “And it was okay, I went with it, because he really is a great guy. But then this intensity, it kept going, and turned more serious and before I knew it, he wanted to get married. It was so fast, and too stressful. He can be so intense, almost demanding, at least then.

“And suddenly, he was gone. A lot. But like I said, when he sees what he wants …” She sipped her orange juice. “He was already onto the next thing. Doesn’t know what he wants one minute then suddenly does the next.”

“You mean, he left the cruise ship?”

“No, we were done with the tour. He worked with a house-building program and decided to stay on, without a lot of input as they say. Bryant’s just like that.” She shrugged, looking past Megan’s shoulder and smiling at someone, then the Princess Wave. “I mean, he was okay about it. But, seeing as we had been seriously dating for several months, I guess I would have liked more say in the matter.”

Megan tried not to show confusion. From Brittany’s version, Bryant wasn’t looking too good in real life. Trying to jive this version with Jillian’s didn’t quite add up, at least in the way she wanted it to. But then, Jillian had told her she wasn’t exactly omnipresent during that phase of her life.

 “Is that what made it break up?” said Megan. It came out before she could think. A hard expression fleetingly crossed Brittany’s face. Then the sentinels.

“Oh, you know those things are always complicated. I had some needs—you know women. We crave connection, not just for the first two weeks. He was more focused on the thing of the moment, unable to ultimately commit. To anything long-term, really. And I could feel it. A woman wants to know it’s a done deal. So someone else offered to fill those needs, and be there. But then, I could have been more grown up. It was a learning lesson, for both of us.”

Brittany pushed her plate gently away. “I’m sure he’s more mature now. Time does that, changes people.” She looked at Megan, “And things. He’s likely in a better place.”

That’s what she said, but an undercurrent passed from her, clear and unmistakable—“Bryant is this way and will always be this way.” Like a friendly warning. But why would Brittany want to warn her? And about what exactly?

She said Bryant was unable to commit. That he wanted what he wanted and focused until he got it. That she had felt pushed. Megan wanted to disregard it, but was it so false?

She had seen that he was unable to commit in his life, bouncing from college to cruise ship to lumber yard—or the avoidance of it. And intense, demanding? Yes, she’d seen that to. On the dance floor, just the two of them—“Do you dance like you talk? Come here.” He had that forcefulness, to be sure. And she had liked it. But isn’t that how it always started? You liked the thing you came to hate.

Unsettled, Megan was about to ask a delicate question when Chalise approached the table, almost bouncing in her enthusiasm.

 “Finally, we get an excursion today, can you believe it? Everyone’s going ashore, you gonna join us? It’s a can’t-miss.”

 “Is that the excursion or Garrett?” said Megan.

She shrugged. “Does it matter? Either way it will be exciting.” She winked. “Bryant will be there. Coming?”

Brittany looked directly at Megan, who flushed involuntarily. “Tenzanio’s has the best shopping—Fossil bags and Prada for practically nothing. And the beaches are gorgeous, like crushed white shells.”

 “Sounds great,” said Megan, though inside she’d rather do a tax audit. Something passed through her soul, making her uncomfortable that Brittany encouraged her to go knowing Bryant would too. Megan wanted to say no, right then and there, but somehow couldn’t verbalize it.

“Okay, we’ll catch you at the landing dockside.” Chalise smiled exuberantly and hustled off, presumably to get ready for Garrett.

Megan stood. “Well, I better go. I’ve got a few things to do. Thanks for breakfast, and, for telling me your thoughts. It’s very private, and I’ll keep it that way.”

“I know you will,” said Brittany, with a peculiar expression.

As Megan walked away, that expression stayed with her, but why, she didn’t know. One thing she knew. When that shuttle left, she would not be on it. Not until she figured out who Bryant really was—is—and got her bearings again. She would not be duped like before. If he conned her, she’d have learned nothing. But the stories were so different—from Jillian, from Brittany. It was time to get some facts about Bryant, and she knew exactly who to get them from.

***

Megan approached the gangway leading to the dock, ready for some new sights and sounds. It was only after Jillian confirmed that Bryant wasn’t going on the excursion that she had agreed to join them. More time away from him, like the past few days, that’s what she needed. After divulging her private thoughts to Jillian, Megan felt that familiar warning. It was too close and too fast with him and these emotions, and she didn’t know what to make of it. All she could feel were bits of puzzle pieces—his behaviors, their conversations—and she needed to know, had to know, what the picture made before she let herself be pulled in. Not that she planned to anyway.

Megan breathed in deeply. It felt good to get out.

Five minutes later, Megan regretted ever befriending Jillian. On the dock, surrounded by five or so adoring females, stood Bryant.

Tugging Jillian’s arm, Megan spoke in a tense whisper. “You said Bryant wasn’t going.”

“I know. I lied.” Jillian looked around for Derek.

“Lied? Just like that? What kind of a friend are you?”

“The kind that gets my friend over herself,
and
hooks her up with a gorgeous singing basketball star.” She shook her head. “That every girl had such a friend.”

“No, I mean it, Jillian. Stop the matchmaking, you don’t know what you’re doing.” Megan panicked. She had decided not to tell Jillian what had happened in the Green Room, and now, this would only make it worse. “I’m not kidding.”

Jillian smirked with a complete disregard for her most urgent plea.

Megan gestured with both hands open, beyond frustrated. Was she the only sane person left on the tour? How in the world was she going to act around Bryant? They hadn’t spoken in days. What would she say? Well, that was easy, she’d play mute. There would be no need to talk because she wouldn’t go near him. 

About 12 of them squeezed into the small, obviously worn shuttle. The driver wound through the streets like a back roads bus on a Peruvian mountain highway, all the while singing loudly to a South American song. Squished next to others, Brittany and a cast girl sat on one side of the bus, Megan and Chalise sat on the opposite side and adjacent to them sat Chad and Bryant talking about Tesla coils and engineering components.

Megan hugged her beach bag and set her face in a bored expression. Occasionally, she felt him looking at her, but for whatever reason, he left her alone. Good. Maybe that tense Green Room conversation had been just the ticket and he’d leave her be.

They arrived at the shuttle drop-off feeling slightly shaken but alive. The driver made a long announcement in a thick accent that most of them didn’t understand, except to be back by five o’clock or they would miss the shuttle to the boat. And that taxis would take them anywhere they wanted to go, for cheap. Even Megan knew that was not true but they smiled anyway.

After he finished, the group began breaking into clusters following the buddy system. Whatever happened, Megan didn’t want to be with the main crowd, and most definitely not with Bryant.

Jillian came to Chalise and Megan, the others standing close by deciding their destinations.

“Hey, where do you guys want to go? Derek has to help one of the lighting crew find some special bulbs that burnt out, but he didn’t want me to miss the shopping. Anybody game?” She included the girls standing nearby. Bryant, Chad, and some others stood within listening distance.

The girls added a happy yes, and one of the crew said there was an incredible restaurant by the main strip of stores which got a response from the guys.

“I think I’ll just hit the beach,” she said quietly to Jillian.

“Can’t,” she shot back, “have to stay in the buddy system. Anybody want to hit the beach after shopping?” Several were in agreement. “Okay, if we have time that sounds perfect. I think we can all share taxis,” and she began divvying people into groups.