Getting Old is the Best Revenge (18 page)

"Are we having fun yet?" asks Bella.

Another short blast sounds and then, suddenly, silence.

"What's that?" Ida asks.

"The drill is over," says a big tough-looking guy wearing a Green Bay Packers jacket.

His wife--I assume, since she's in a matching green Packers ensemble--agrees. "You missed all the life-saving instructions."

They introduce themselves as Greg and Polly.

Sophie is incredulous. "It's over? We just got here."

People are laughing at us as they leave the lifeboat station. "You should have taken the elevator," says someone.

"Yes, you're senior citizens, you didn't need to take the stairs in a drill."

We all glower at Evvie.

She shrugs sheepishly. "I didn't get that far in the instructions. Besides, how come nobody else volunteered to be in charge of information?"

We are catching our breaths, sitting on the deck, having Mai Tais to relax us after our harrowing drill experience. We also just went through the orientation meeting in the big main theater, and our heads are still reeling from the amount of things to remember. We still have our life jackets on, but this time, opened so we can breathe. Going back to the room to drop them off seemed too exhausting. Actually, these vests are keeping us warm. It is cool and windy out here.

"We need a month to try all those activities," Sophie says happily.

"But don't forget," Evvie reminds us, "what with playing bingo and going ashore, we won't have too much time for other activities."

"I want to spend all of my free time in the casino," Ida says. "I'm feeling lucky."

"And I want to take cha-cha lessons with those guys they hire to dance with single ladies." This from Sophie.

"Me, too," echoes Bella.

"I just want to hang around on the top deck, swim and play games, and just veg out," says Evvie. "What about you, Glad? You're so quiet."

How can I tell them all I want is to go home? "There's so much to choose from," I say lamely.

Sergeant Evvie looks at her watch. "Time for dinner. We have the early seating. And we don't dress up on the first night. Let's drop off our life jackets and just go."

We haven't stopped noshing since we boarded. Nobody's hungry, but we're not about to miss dinner. And you can bet we won't miss the midnight buffet.

Sophie grins. "I may gain ten pounds on this trip. But what a way to go."

31

First Night

T
he dining room is beautiful. So glittery. So

glitzy. Yet elegant, with dramatic chandeliers overhead--Vegas on water. So many plates, so much silverware. So many waiters. We are escorted to our table, which seats six.

"I could get spoiled by this." Evvie sighs happily as she watches the passengers chatting with one another. "Amazing how they can handle two thousand people on this ship. Wow!"

"Who's gonna ever want to eat in our tiny little kitchens again?" says Sophie. "Wouldn't it be great to just live on one of these boats forever?"

"Great idea." Evvie is already nibbling at the huge selection of bread. "When our kids are ready to dump us in a retirement home or in assisted living, we could do this instead." Evvie does the math. "If we found a ship that cost us about five hundred dollars a week, that would be about thirty thousand dollars a year. Hey, you can hardly get a decent retirement place for that price. And they have doctors aboard, too."

Bella stares around the room, admiring it all. "It's certainly nicer than our dinky continental restaurant."

"That's for sure," agrees Evvie.

A waiter appears. I amend that. A drop-dead gorgeous waiter. His name tag tells us he is Antonio from Guatemala. "Champagne, ladies?"

Who's going to say no to him, or the champagne, though Ida barely sips at hers.

Evvie asks who is to be seated in the sixth chair. The waiter consults a chart. "No one, madam," he says.

I think to myself how wonderful it would be sharing this with Jack. Then I tell myself to snap out of it. I made my bed, now I have to lie in it. With two other women. In spite of my sadness, I have to smile at that. I make up my mind that since I'm here I have to be here, really be here. It's not fair to the girls to just keep moping.

"Do you believe the choice of entrees?" I say, taking part. "I don't know how I can choose."

"I want two of everything," Sophie says joyously, reading the menu.

"Don't be ridiculous," Evvie snaps. "You'll never be able to eat it."

"I will so."

"You'll make a fool of yourself."

"Will not."

Another dreamboat waiter takes our orders. His name tag informs us he is Gustav from Bavaria. I'm beginning to like this particular cruise-ship gimmick. Spitefully, Sophie orders two appetizers, the steamed asparagus and the lobster bisque, and two entrees, sole amandine and poached salmon. Plus, of course, the veggies that come with each.

Evvie gives her a dirty look.

"Look who's over there," says Bella, pointing.

The woman we met earlier in the elevator is seated two tables away from us. She's at a table for four. But so far, she's alone.

Bella waves and catches her eye. The woman waves back. She doesn't look happy. We are surprised to see her stand up and walk over to us.

"May I sit down for a moment?"

We chorus our agreement.

"I still can't find my bridge partners. We all planned to meet for this tournament and there's still no sign of them."

I ask, "Did you try the purser?"

"Yes, but by the time I decided to do so, his office was closed. I'll go to the bridge sign-up in the morning. If they're still not there, then I'll check with the purser."

"Why don't you join us? No sense eating alone," says Evvie.

She gratefully nods as we smile our agreement. The waiter comes back and takes her order.

"I guess we should introduce ourselves," I say.

We all do so and our new friend introduces herself as Amy Larkin from Miami Beach.

The first course arrives--appetizer or soup, though Sophie prepares to dig in to both. Evvie shakes her head in disgust.

"Oooh." A soft but intense sound comes from Ida.

We look at her and she's gone pale.

"What?" Evvie asks.

"Look," she says faintly.

"What? What are we supposed to see?" says Sophie. "All I see is tomato soup."

"It's moving!" It is a faint, strangled cry. Ida is clutching her stomach.

And yes, the soup seems to move very slowly from side to side in her bowl. Ida leaps up, covering her mouth with both hands. Now she looks green. She runs out of the dining room.

Evvie, alarmed, says, "She's getting seasick. I'll go after her." And she is off.

For a moment, we are all speechless.

Bella pokes around her salad. "Well, nothing's moving in here." She starts eating. Sophie follows with gusto.

Amy and I hesitate, but not for long. The food is delicious. Poor Ida.

Evvie reports back. "She's sick as a dog and she's got a bucket in front of her. Would you believe? One of the busboys saw her run and he brought out a bucket, a wet towel, and a bottle of club soda. What service!" She stops. "Hmm, I guess I should have tipped him. Anyway, she won't go back to the room. She wants air and I don't blame her. I wrapped her in some deck chair blankets and she said for us to have fun and come and get her when we go downstairs for the night."

"Poor Ida," says Sophie. She's already finished the salmon and is digging into her sole amandine. She's slowing down, but she doesn't want to give Evvie the satisfaction of being able to say I told you so.

Evvie watches her closely. By now Sophie is pushing the filet around her plate, pretending to eat.

Bella giggles. Evvie smirks.

We chitchat about the various choices of entertainment we'll have on the cruise, and dinner is very pleasant.

After dessert and coffee, Amy excuses herself. She's retiring for the night. She thanks us for inviting her. And we say we hope she finally finds her friends.

We, too, decide it's been an exhausting day. We find Ida, who is feeling better, and head for our rooms.

Sophie gets her door open first, and she lets out a bloodcurdling scream. "Someone's broken into our room!"

We hurry inside.

She points at something leaning against her pillow, next to a little square of chocolate. "What is it?"

I examine it carefully. To me it looks like a towel folded into the shape of a bird.

Meanwhile, Evvie has opened our door. "In here, too," she calls. We look through the adjoining door. We have three "birds" made out of our towels. But ours are attached to the bathroom door, positioned to look as if their wings were in flight.

I begin to laugh. Then Evvie joins me. "What's the joke?" demands Sophie.

"I think this is supposed to be a funny gift from the crew members who turn down our beds." I take one, amused at how cleverly they've been sculpted together.

Finally the others get it, too, and start laughing.

Evvie starts to put on her pajamas. "What a day! First we schlepp up and down the whole ship before we find our room, then we almost drop dead running up and down stairs for the fire drill, then we eat too much at dinner, and now we'll have to live on Tums--"

"And what about me?" pipes in Ida, who is lying against the far wall, a wet cloth on her forehead, and clutching a wastebasket. "I upchucked all those little meatballs and pizza bits and I'm still feeling sick."

"Then," continues Evvie, "we come back to our rooms so we can get some rest and we're scared out of our wits by towels turned into art."

As I kneel down onto my mattress, I hear Bella saying from the open door of the other stateroom, "If every day is gonna be like this, I might not survive this trip."

Ida says, "Bite your tongue."

32

Four Corners Plus Hardway

I
t's eight-thirty in the morning and I already feel like a wreck. Ida didn't sleep a wink, so we didn't sleep much, either. She threw up on and off all night long, including the Dramamine she took, which didn't help. If she wasn't retching into her wastebasket she was climbing off the mattress, jostling the rest of us every time, to run to the bathroom.
Oy!

We don't want to leave her, but she insists. If she feels better later, she says, she'll come and join us. With instructions to call room service if she needs anything, we leave her curled up fetal-style, groaning.

We drag our exhausted selves up to the dining room, where we find Miss Perky and Miss Perkette, dressed adorably in matching pink capris and identical pink ruffled cardigan sweaters, under which are their bingo shirts.

They are stuffing themselves with an enormous breakfast.

"Sleep well?" Evvie asks, dripping sarcasm.

"Like on a cloud with the boat rocking us in its arms," says Sophie, waxing poetic as she mixes metaphors.

"We're supposed to play bingo at nine and we haven't even registered yet. We're definitely going to be late."

Evvie says to them, "You're done, go over to the big auditorium and pick up our stuff and get us a big table or a booth."

They look startled. "But we don't know the way," Sophie whines.

"It's where we went for the orientation meeting," I remind her.

Now Bella, whiner number two, is heard from. "Who can remember?"

Evvie points. "Walk out the door, turn left. Go to the very end, and if you fall off the boat and end up in the ocean and drown, you went too far. We'll eat something quickly and meet you there. Try to get us seats up front so we can hear and see."

Holding hands, they scamper out, looking back at us in terror.

We hurry through cold cereal and coffee and toast. Evvie doesn't want to miss the start of the tournament.

* * *

The auditorium is a mob scene with much pushing and shoving and shouting. Most of the crowd are women in an assortment of bingo shirts with tacky bingo slogans.

"Oh, boy," says Evvie, "we threw our girls into a lion's pit. I feel guilty."

We make our way through the crowd, and it isn't easy. There must be about five hundred people jockeying for seats. If they play bingo the way they ram and shove, we're in a lot of trouble.