Sisterchicks in Sombreros (4 page)

“This way, please.” Sven motioned that I should follow him across a secured walkway that led into the ship.

With one foot in front of the other, I held my breath and boarded the ship that had seemed so ominous a few moments earlier. A few short steps, and I entered what looked like the spacious lobby of a luxury hotel. Two dramatic, curved staircases led to the upper level. In the center, between the polished stairways, a pianist in a tuxedo was seated at a shiny black grand piano. His rendition of a classical piece filled the glistening lobby with a touch of elegance. Opulent bouquets of fresh flowers laced the air with sweet fragrance. Dozens of passengers strolled about leisurely in the airy reception area. Many of them held glasses with blended tropical beverages. A waiter meandered from guest to guest, offering appetizers on a silver tray.

Oh, yeah. I could see why cruisin’ was Aunt Winnie’s cup of tea
.

I can do this. Why was I so panicked? Did I watch Titanic one too many times? My problem is that I don’t get out enough. I don’t know how to act classy in situations like this. But who cares? Joanne and I are going to have the time of our lives!

Sven led me to the elevator and then to our suite where a porter delivered my luggage.

“Jo-anne!” I sang out as the door unlocked and Sven, the porter, and I entered.

No reply. Her luggage was open on the bed beside the wall and her coat hung over the back of the chair.

“It’s possible that your sister went up to the Port of Call
Café for the welcome aboard buffet. Would you like me to check on her for you or show you to the buffet?”

“No, I think I’ll settle in first.” I glanced around. The room was larger than I expected. We had two twin beds, a love seat, coffee table, and an easy chair as well as a built-in desk beside the closet. The bathroom was a step up and had a full-size bathtub. A sliding door led out to a small balcony. We definitely had comfortable accommodations. Not quite enough space for Aunt Winnie’s Scoot-About to maneuver around this room, but plenty of room for Joanne and me.

“Thank you.” I dismissed the porter and Sven with a smile and a nod.

“My pleasure, to be sure.” Sven said with a gentlemanly bow. “Please give my regards to your aunt. We hope she is able to sail with us again soon.”

“I’ll tell her. Thank you.” Closing the door, I decided that before I went in search of Joanne on this huge floating hotel, I would take a few minutes to do what I did best: organize.

I had my clothes nearly unpacked when a knock on the door produced another attentive crew member. “Good afternoon. Here are the additional towels you ordered. My name is Raul, and if there’s anything I can do for you, please let me know.”

“Thank you.” I tucked the unnecessary extra towels on the shelf in the bathroom and wondered if Joanne ordered the extra towels, or if Aunt Winnie had phoned and ordered them for us.

Another tap sounded at the door, and a large basket of fruit was delivered, wrapped in yellow-tinted cellophane. The card was from Aunt Winnie’s travel agent with a simple message: “Enjoy!”

I barely returned the card to the tiny envelope when another knock produced a gorgeous flower arrangement with a tall, white calla lily in the center. This gift was compliments of the cruise line, congratulating Winnie on her twentieth cruise with them.

My sister is never going to believe all this!

Scooting out the door with the room key and my cruise pass in my pocket, I found my way down the hall and took the crowded elevator to the ninth level. Clusters of chatting travelers milled about. The atmosphere was charged with the hum of anticipation.

I noticed a group of four women who were all wearing the same sort of sassy sunglasses, as if they belonged to a club. The woman in the center of the group was telling a story, and the rest of them were cracking up. I had to stop and watch a moment because the women were my age yet they reminded me of a bunch of high schoolers on the first day of summer camp. I loved the feeling of glee that radiated from them.

Fully motivated to find my sister and let the fiesta begin, I stepped into the large dining area and looked around for Joanne. I didn’t find her.

She found me.

With arms outstretched, winding between the closely
positioned tables, my sister called out, “Melly Jelly Belly!”

I would have slugged her, if I hadn’t been so happy to see her.

“Joanna Banana!” I echoed, as we wrapped each other in a hug and swayed from side to side, laughing.

“Can you believe this?” Joanne pulled back and grinned at me, her eyes wide.

“Good ole Aunt Winnie,” I said.

“And dear ole Uncle Harlan!” Joanne added.

“You look great,” I told her. Joanne’s hair was much darker than I’d seen it but styled in the same straight, just-below-the-ear cut she had worn last time I saw her. The change I noticed first were the deepened laugh lines around her eyes. She’d gotten older. At the same time, she looked younger. Thinner and more lighthearted than I remembered.

“You look great, too,” she said. “Come on! I think we still have time to get our pictures taken up on the top deck by the pool.”

She whisked me from the dining room, and we squeezed into another fully packed elevator. Several of the women in the elevator were wearing those same fun sunglasses I’d noticed on the other group of gigglers.

“Do you know where they’re holding the chocolate-tasting event?” one of the smiling women asked Joanne.

“No, but it sounds like something we should check out. What do you think, Mel?”

“Before our pictures or after?”

“Oh, are you talking about those sombrero photos?” the woman asked. “I heard they were taking welcome aboard pictures.”

“Yes, up by the pool,” Joanne answered.

“What do you think?” the woman asked her companions. “Photos first, then chocolate?”

One of the other women made the decision and declared, “Photos before chocolate, everyone!”

“Is that like age before beauty?” Another woman asked as the elevator doors opened.

“If that’s the case,” the woman who was clearly the oldest of the bunch said, “step aside, girls. Let the aged one pass before you beauties.”

We followed the lively, chatty women to where a short line had formed for the photo at the edge of the railing along the top deck. This was the area where I’d noticed people standing when I got off the shuttle and looked up. Now that I was the one standing on deck, it didn’t seem so monstrous. Just windy Near the front of the ship stood a looming climbing wall designed to give adventuresome travelers a place to hook themselves to a few ropes and scale above the deck. Our present altitude was high enough for me.

The other women told Joanne and me to go first since they were still organizing their photo groupings. The photographer handed us two floppy straw sombreros and told us to “let loose” for the camera.

“Sisterchicks on the loose!” one of the women in line called
out, and her companions laughed with her.

Joanne flung her arm around me. I reached for her free hand, thinking I could show Ethan the photo and tell him we were learning to do the tango like he’d teased me about. Joanne was letting that hugely gleeful laugh of hers fly about the deck, and I was telling myself,
Don’t blink this time! Don’t blink!

With a painless snap, the photographer captured our jubilant moment forever. We handed the sombreros over to the other women, and the older one said, “We found out about the chocolate tasting. It’s in the Cove Lounge on the second floor.”

“Great,” Joanne said. “Sounds like a good way to start off our trip.”

A young man in a crisp, white cruise uniform stepped up to us, holding out a tray with tall plastic beverage cups filled with some kind of deep green drink. “Welcome on board,” he said. “Would you like to try our signature cocktail, Cruisin’ for a Bruisin’?”

“Would it be possible to get some water?” I asked.

“Certainly. Right over there at the bar.”

We slid past the lounge chairs where a surprising number of determined sunbathers already were stretched out in the southern California midday. Both of us ordered water and were handed the smallest bottles I’d ever seen. They were so cold that a chunk of ice floated in the center of the bottle like a submerged iceberg. I gave the bartender my cruise pass and asked, “Just out of curiosity, how much is this water?”

“Three dollars,” he said. “But let me give you a tip. You’ll enjoy the cruise more if you don’t keep track of the charges. You’re here to relax.”

I sipped my icy water and wondered if my husband had been talking to this guy. Why was everyone telling me to relax? Was I the only one who thought it was outrageous to pay three dollars for a bottle of water? Joanne seemed to be taking it all in stride.

We made our way to the Cove Lounge where a woman wearing a fresh flower lei around her neck greeted us. The now-familiar sassy sunglasses were perched on top of her head.

“We were told this is the place to come for the chocolate tasting,” Joanne said.

“Yes, welcome. Do you have your Sisterchick passes?”

“Is this it?” Joanne held out her cruise pass.

“No, ours is the yellow one.”

Just then the happy quartet stepped up behind us, returned from their photo shoot and still laughing. “Do we need to show our Sisterchick passes?” the leader asked, pulling out a yellow card from her purse. The other three women reached for theirs.

“Go ahead,” I motioned to the women.

“Aren’t you going in?” the leader asked.

“We only brought our cruise passes,” I said, emptying my pocket.

“They’re with us,” the leader declared. “We were up by the pool having our pictures taken.”

“You two are Sisterchicks, right?” the hostess at the door asked Joanne and me.

“Is it that obvious?” Joanne asked. “Our mom used to say we were almost twins.”

“I’m here with my sister, too,” the older woman behind us said. “She’s at the spa right now getting a pedicure. When she saw my toes, that little copycat had to run off and have hers painted, too.”

We looked down at the woman’s small feet clad in sturdy-looking leather sandals with ten bright pink piglets all lined up in a row, wiggling merrily.

“Oui, oui, oui!
All the way out to sea!” she chanted with a backup chorus of chuckles from her pals.

“Hey, who’s holding up the line?” a tall woman called out from the group that had gathered behind us. “You’re keeping us from our chocolate, you know! Are you sure you want to do that?” Over a dozen women were waiting to get into the chocolate fest.

“Go ahead, all six of you,” the hostess said, waving Joanne and me through, even though we didn’t have the right passes. We joined the lighthearted party already in session, complete with music, balloons, and designated organizers who wore floral leis and name tags. I listened as one of the organizers directed a woman to where she could pick up her name tag and sign up for a free drawing for a gift basket.

I was beginning to think we stumbled into a private party. All these women had the same sunglasses. The napkins were
printed with a stylized yellow chick wearing sunglasses, and many of the women seemed to know each other.

“Joanne,” I whispered, pulling her out of the line once she filled a plate with white chocolate—covered blueberries, mocha truffles, and macadamia nut brownies. “I think this is a club. We’re not supposed to be here.”

“But we fit in perfectly,” Joanne said. “Look at these women. I’d pick any of them to be my new best friend.”

Her comment struck a tender spot in my spirit. I happened to be in the market for a new best friend. Ethan and I had moved four times in the past nine years. The result of so many relocations was that I always lost whatever momentum I’d gained in developing friendships. I’m not the kind of person who goes shopping for a buddy, so if a new friend doesn’t come my way, I don’t tend to go out looking for one. Did Joanne feel the same way? Was she in a girlfriend slump the way I was?

“I know.” I savored a mouth-melting truffle I had plucked from Joanne’s plate. “I think this is a great bunch of women, too. But look, they have name tags. If they send us over to that table to get our name tags, we won’t be on the list. And if they start singing their sorority song or tell everyone to turn and extend the official handshake, you and I are going to be in big trouble.”

Joanne glanced around. “You’re probably right. Let me grab one more cocoa-coconut cookie. Did you see that they even have chocolate mint tea?”

With a jerk of my head, I motioned to Joanne that I was heading for the door while she made another daring grab at the chocolates that were meant for these Sisterchicks but not necessarily for us sisters.

“What about getting a pedicure?” Joanne asked once we stepped out of the Cove Lounge.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I was thinking of that lady who was showing us her toes and said her sister went for a pedicure. My toes haven’t seen the light of day for months. What do you say we find the spa and schedule a little pampering?”

“Sounds fun,” I said, thinking how this was a new twist for my sister. I had never known her to pluck her eyebrows, let alone paint her nails. “The spa is on the tenth level.”

“How did you know that?” Joanne asked.

“I read the listings when we were in the elevator.”

“I’m glad you’re here.” Joanne linked her arm in mine. “Without you I’d be crashing private parties and wandering around the lobby looking for the spa. Let’s face it, Melanie, I’d be lost without you.”

The last bit of my chocolate truffle caught in my throat. My sister never said words like that to me before. At home my exasperated husband, who didn’t have a talent for details, often told me I “micromanaged” too much or that I was bossy.

I couldn’t believe how great it felt to be with the first person who ever called me “bossy,” but to have her express appreciation for my skill with details and direction. It was good
to be appreciated. Very good. I was ready to celebrate my big sister’s approval with a round of pink piggies.

Ah, the power of chocolate to improve a woman’s outlook on life!