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Hannah pulled another handful of
clothes from the hamper, muttering to herself when she failed to find
the elusive swimsuit. She dropped the dirty clothes in a heap on the
floor and strode to the doorway. Leaning her head out, she called,
“Charles, do you know where my swimsuit is?” She waited almost a minute for him
to answer. She was about to go into the kitchen to ask him again when he
called back, “Why would I know?” “No reason,” she muttered, as
she returned to the hamper and stuffed all the clothes back in.
“It’s not like you ever do any of my laundry.” She snorted. “Or
your own, for that matter.” Her hand stilled as she lifted one
of Charles’s white shirts from the floor. It wasn’t the shirt that
caught her attention, but rather, the lipstick stain on the collar—in
a lurid pink shade she wouldn’t be caught dead wearing. Her stomach dipped, and she reached
cautiously into the pocket to see what caused the evident lump. It was a
folded-up cocktail napkin from a small club on 16th. The name
Lorissa and a phone number had been scrawled on the napkin in the same
shade of lipstick as that on the collar. She tried to offer explanations for
her husband having the number, and for the lipstick on the collar, but
her excuses had worn thin. Still, she had to make sure. She walked over
to the bed, where her opened suitcase still lay, and picked up the
cordless. With shaking hands, she dialed the number, half-hoping no one
would answer. It rang three times before a sultry
sounding woman answered. “Hello, lover. I saw your number on the
caller ID, but I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon. I thought you
weren’t calling until Wifey left on her trip?” Without responding, Hannah
disconnected the call and dropped the phone on the bed. She stared at it
for half a minute, contemplating what she had learned from Lorissa
without the other woman’s knowledge. She had the voice of a hooker,
Hannah thought, and probably had the body of a stripper. Charles’s
taste ran to the young and exotic. He had the money to fund his tastes,
so why not indulge himself? She glanced briefly at her wedding
ring set. After all, what did twenty-two years of marriage count for
when compared to a shot at young pussy? She felt tears welling behind her
eyes and cleared her throat. Hannah bent down to zip her suitcase and
carried it from the room with her. She closed her bedroom door with a
soft click, and her restraint amazed her. Once, the recent revelation might
have inspired anger and wrath. Now, she felt only a curious sense of
detachment. Was there even any pain associated with knowing Charles had
once again been unfaithful, or planned to be? Maybe, or maybe it was
just nerves from her upcoming trip that made her stomach ache. She walked to Morgan’s room and
tapped on the door. Loud music pounded from the room, and she wondered
if her daughter would even hear her knock. She waited a second before
knocking again, louder this time. “Morgan?” Seconds later, Morgan opened the
door, looking annoyed. Even with her pout, Hannah was struck anew by her
daughter’s beauty. It seemed as though she couldn’t go more than a
week without realizing how beautiful her daughter had become, and
knowing how thankful she was that she’d had the chance. She blinked
when she realized Morgan was staring at her impatiently. “Are you
ready?” “Yeah.” Morgan turned away to
switch off the stereo and lift a large case. “I guess.” Hannah tried not to let her
daughter’s lack of enthusiasm hurt. Would she have been that eager to
take a trip with her mother when she graduated from high school?
Probably not. In any event, she hadn’t had the opportunity. Her
mother hadn’t had the time, what with helping Father at the office,
and that was the summer Hannah met Charles. She
had spent every minute she could with him. “The taxi will be here
soon.” “Yeah.” Morgan followed her
down the hall to the kitchen, where Charles ate breakfast. As usual, the
morning paper formed a barrier between he and his family. He immediately lowered it when
Morgan hovered near him. “We’re leaving any minute now, Daddy.”
Her light-blonde hair was a contrast to Charles’s salt-and-pepper
brown as she gave him a big hug and kissed his cheek. “I’m going to
miss you.” “I’m sure you’ll have a
lovely time with your mother.” Hannah frowned, suddenly realizing
Charles hadn’t called her by her name in months. Of course, they
hadn’t really spoken in months. “But what will you do with yourself, Daddy? Are you certain you can’t get away from the office to join us?” “I’m sure, Morgan. Don’t you
worry about me.” Charles patted her hand. “I’m sure I’ll find a
way to occupy my time.” An image of Charles fucking a woman
slightly older than Morgan flashed through Hannah’s mind. “I’m
sure you will.” She couldn’t keep the trace of bitterness from her
tone. It didn’t matter anyway, because he didn’t even look at her.
Either he hadn’t heard her comment, or he was ignoring her. The taxi horn sounded then, sending
them into a rush. In the shuffle, Hannah didn’t have a chance to kiss
Charles goodbye. He didn’t make the effort either. As she paused at
the door leading outside, she looked back. Charles was already behind
his paper again. The first sight of the ship was
more impressive than Hannah had anticipated. She had seen the brochure
for the Sea Princess, but hadn’t expected the ship to be so
large. As they worked their way through the crowd at Miami’s port, she
couldn’t tear her gaze from the splendor. The ship was a sparkling
white monolith rising several stories. Its sheer length made those
milling about the pier seem insignificant. “It’s beautiful, isn’t
it?” “Yeah,” was Morgan’s
disinterested reply. Hannah looked away from the ship to
her daughter. Morgan hadn’t even removed her sunglasses. She was
playing a handheld video game while maneuvering through the crush of
people. If they hadn’t surrendered their luggage to a porter at
check-in, she’d probably be carrying her case too. Anything to avoid
conversation with her mother. She sighed and turned away from Morgan to
look at the ship again. As she did so, her gaze locked with
a man standing a few feet from them. Hannah’s breath caught when he
smiled at her. He was a few years older than she was, but he still
appeared vital. A touch of gray at his temples in the thick, black hair
betrayed his age, but little else did, aside from the air of maturity
clinging to him. She gasped when he winked at her. Immediately, she
turned her attention back to the line of people in front of them,
waiting to board the ship. Even as she walked forward, she was
conscious of the man’s eyes lingering on her. It gave her a tingling
feeling, to know men still found her attractive, even if her husband
didn’t. For the size of the ship, their
stateroom seemed small in comparison. Hannah wondered how Morgan would
feel about them sharing the small room with the two double beds for
fourteen days. The bathroom was tiny, and her daughter had already
claimed most of the counter space to spread out her cosmetics and
toiletries. The room hadn’t seemed so small when she went to the
travel agent’s office to view the video. She turned to her opened case on
top of the bed closest to the door and began removing items. From the
corner of her eye, she glanced up as Morgan came out of the bathroom,
wearing a pair of white boy-cut swim shorts and skimpy blue bikini top.
She resisted the urge to say anything, reminding herself Morgan was
twenty-years-old and could wear that if she wanted to. She took a handful of underwear to
the dresser they would be sharing and opened the top drawer. She looked
up as Morgan unzipped her case, obviously searching for something.
“What did you want to do first?” Morgan looked up. “Huh?” “I asked what you wanted to do?
We could take a pottery class.” She saw Morgan grimace as her
daughter’s attention returned to her case, and she cast her mind for
something to interest the girl. “Oh, we could go to the sports deck.
They have a four-hole golf course.” “We don’t have clubs,” Morgan
said offhand. She bit back a sigh of
exasperation. “We can rent them.” Morgan found what she was looking
for, lifting out a tube of sunscreen. “You hate golfing.” “I don’t hate it. I’ve just
never learned how to play well.” Charles hadn’t spent the amount of
time teaching Hannah that he had invested in Morgan’s education of the
game. She forced a grin. “Maybe you can give your mother some
pointers.” Morgan shook her head. “Golf’s
mine and Daddy’s thing, okay?” Hannah swallowed the lump in her
throat and forced herself to nod. “That’s fine. It looks like you
plan to sunbathe anyway. I’ll need to get a new suit first, but—“ “Mother, listen, don’t take
this the wrong way, but I don’t want you to come.” Why did her daughter’s rejection
still hurt? She should be used to it by now. “Okay.” Maybe Morgan heard the catch in her
voice, or perhaps she realized she was being a brat. “We will do
things together, but I want to explore by myself today.” Hannah nodded, trying to hide her
emotions. “That’s fine, sweetie.” Morgan’s shoulders hunched, and
her tone became defensive. “You know, it’s not like I wanted a
mother-daughter bonding experience or anything. I only agreed to
come—“ “Because Charles convinced you to
indulge me.” Hannah strove to keep any trace of bitterness from her
tone. She wasn’t under any illusion that her daughter really wanted to
be here. She also wasn’t under the illusion Charles had talked Morgan
into it for her sake. No, he just wanted the house to himself for a
couple of weeks. She wondered why he bothered. Morgan would be going to
the university after the summer, and he wouldn’t have to hide his
affairs then. Her daughter shrugged. “Yeah, I
guess.” She struck a more cheerful tone.
“Well, off you go. I’ll finish unpacking for both of us.” Morgan stood up and walked to the
door. She paused before turning the handle, and Hannah felt a stirring
of hope. Had she changed her mind? “Don’t worry about unpacking
for me. I don’t want you going through my luggage.” Hannah looked down quickly, but
didn’t have to worry about formulating a response, because Morgan left
the room without so much as a word of parting. She stared at the stack of clothes
in her case, without truly seeing them for the tears blurring her eyes.
She felt the same sense of defeat and anguish that always followed her
attempts to reach Morgan. Again, she wondered why her daughter hated her
so much. No, hated wasn’t the right word.
Morgan treated her with apathy, not avid dislike. It was difficult to
believe the girl had followed her everywhere and cried when she went to
work for the first eight years of her life. Now, she was
one-hundred-percent a Daddy’s-Girl and had no time left for her
mother. Why had she thought going on this
cruise would make them closer? Hannah shook her head, sending long waves
of blonde hair that held only a trace of gray into her eyes. She
didn’t remember her exact reasoning now. She only remembered realizing
once Morgan moved away they would never be close again. This felt like
her last chance to have a relationship with her daughter, but it seemed
doomed to failure. She firmed her mouth and swiped at her cheeks. Hannah ignored the partially unpacked case as she lifted the small purse she had bought for the trip and slipped the strap around her neck. She wasn’t going to spend her time in the cabin, waiting for Morgan to feel a shred of pity and spend some time with her. If her daughter didn’t want to be with her, that didn’t mean she couldn’t have fun on her own.
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