Cabin Fever. Mary Leo

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Cabin Fever - Mary  Leo


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the table and everyone began a marathon of hugs. Estelle was wearing some sort of purple cowboy hat, matching purple jacket and leather pants, her blond hair perfectly styled. Then there was her ex-husband Mark. According to Laura, he’d only agreed to come on the cruise because of his grandkids. He and Estelle had recently divorced after being married for nearly forty years, and Estelle was probably going to use this cruise to try to win him back. She hated losing a fight, and theirs had been a whopper.

      Mark looked his usual handsome self, dressed in a white polo shirt and khaki shorts, brown deck shoes and no socks. His face had aged since Becky had seen him last, but in a good way. The lines around his steel-blue eyes only added to his charm. For what it was worth, Becky had always liked Mark, even though he would sometimes push Ryder too hard. It amazed her how much Ryder had resembled his father, and for a brief instant a wave of sadness washed over her until Kim, Laura’s mother, emerged from behind Mark, hanging on to what had to be her latest boyfriend.

      He was briefly introduced as Bob Ducain. He was an average-looking guy, with thinning gray hair and enough of a stomach that even his loose-fitting island shirt couldn’t disguise it. He had a ruddy complexion, pale blue eyes, and a smile that seemed to lack sincerity. There were gold chains around his neck and gold diamond rings on each pinky. No doubt Estelle had handpicked this guy for Kim. He must have been from one of her social clubs, or the son of a wealthy friend. At any rate, in Estelle’s eyes, he was probably Kim’s perfect match.

      “I hate buffets,” Kim announced before she even sat at the table. Her hair was its usual shade of blond, hanging straight down her back. She wore a Chanel black-and-white sleeveless sweater, a black short skirt and sandals. Kim was somewhere around Becky’s age, thirty-six, but Botox had removed any hint of aging, so she still looked as if she was in her twenties. She had the same blue eyes as her dad, and a perky paid-for nose that she’d changed at least two times.

      Kim bent over and briefly hugged Sarah and Connor, then continued to whine about the buffet. “The food is never good, and I have to serve myself. I hate it.”

      “You sit and I’ll fix you a plate,” Bob offered, pulling out a chair for her to sit on. Then he took off toward the rows of steaming food.

      Kim made herself comfortable and glanced over at Becky, who was across from her at the large tan-speckled table. Kim sat with her back to the buffet. She obviously didn’t even want to look at it. Instead of sitting by her mother and new boyfriend, Laura sat next to Becky, while Sarah and Connor moved down to the end of the table to sit with Estelle and Mark.

      “Isn’t he great? He does everything for me. I don’t know how I ever got along without him,” Kim remarked to Becky.

      Laura turned sideways in her chair and rolled her eyes at Becky.

      Becky nodded as if she was listening, but her attention had fallen on Dylan Langstaff. He had just walked across the room toward an officer dressed in white who was talking to a few passengers standing in the food line. Dylan looked even better than she had remembered from that afternoon. His hair was somehow darker in the dimmer lighting and his demeanor even more friendly and casual. He had the look of a genuinely nice guy. Someone Becky wouldn’t mind getting to know, as a friend, of course, but she was sure deep down he must be a flirt.

      So why was she so attracted to him? A little voice inside whispered, Because he makes you feel something. And it had been a long, long time since she’d felt anything for a man.

      Kim droned on. “I know he’s not very pretty, but I find that the cuter the guy is, the more he’s into his own needs.”

      Becky heard herself saying, “Uh-huh.” But she didn’t believe that for a moment. Dylan was over-the-top cute, and from the way he’d treated her kids, she just knew he was a guy who didn’t think of himself first.

      There was a commotion of some sort right in front of Dylan, who just happened to be standing next to Bob, who was busy piling fried chicken on a plate. Suddenly a rather large woman staggered into Bob. He froze, still clutching his plate of food.

      “And I just don’t have any time for that kind of guy in my life,” Kim said, while a waitress poured her an iced tea.

      “Uh-huh,” Becky mumbled as she watched Dylan grab hold of the woman from behind. She was so large he could barely get his arms around her. From what Becky could tell, the woman was choking on a piece of food and Dylan was administering the Heimlich maneuver, pushing air up from her diaphragm and into her throat.

      “So, naturally, when I met Bob at Mom’s charity auction three months ago and he told me how he loved to pamper women, well I just had to have him all to myself.”

      “Yeah. That’s great,” Becky agreed. Half of the people in the room were watching Dylan, while Bob just continued to stand there motionless, both hands on his plate as though he was annoyed at the interruption.

      Becky stood and was ready to try to help that poor woman and Dylan when something flew out of the woman’s mouth and landed on the floor in front of her.

      “We’ve been dating ever since, and let me tell you, he really knows how to care for a woman, if you know what I mean.” She sighed as if to make her point.

      Becky let out the breath she had been holding and smiled. “You don’t say.” She watched as Dylan and what looked like two women from the ship’s medical team, helped the now-panting woman into a chair.

      Bob turned back to the buffet and continued moving down the line, filling his place.

      “But I know you’re still mourning my dear brother, so you couldn’t possibly be interested in anyone, could you?” Kim asked with a flourish.

      Becky stared at Kim for a moment in complete silence and disbelief. It was as if someone had rung a bell and everyone had turned their attention to Becky, waiting for her reply. Even Laura stopped what she was doing to listen.

      “I, uh, no, definitely not. I’m not interested in anyone,” Becky spluttered. But Laura, who had also been watching the whole incident between the choking woman and Dylan, threw Becky that kind of look as if she knew better.

      Becky was just about to set Laura straight, when Kim reached across the table and grabbed Becky’s hand. “You poor thing, but I understand. No one can replace my brother. If you ever need a shoulder to cry on, just call me and I can put you in touch with some of the best shrinks in San Diego. I’m here for you, Becky. You can always count on me.”

      “Thanks,” Becky muttered, slowly pulling her hand away.

      “We’ve got something to tell everybody,” Sarah blurted in a loud voice.

      “Let’s get our meal first,” Becky countered, hoping that would be enough to stifle her excited daughter.

      “But we want to tell everyone now,” Connor chimed in.

      Becky was glad Connor seemed kind of excited about the whole thing, but she just wasn’t in the mood to show the pendant off at that exact moment. Besides, now that the room had settled down again after that poor woman’s near-death experience, Becky didn’t want everyone to now turn their focus on her.

      “Your mom’s right,” Laura said, getting up. “Let’s have our dinner first.”

      Estelle, of course, supported Connor and Sarah, not Becky.

      “But the kids seem to want to tell us something now. We should see what they have to say.”

      Becky stood.

      Mark stood. “I say we should honor Becky’s wishes, Estelle.” He walked to the buffet, taking Connor with him.

      Laura went over and took Sarah by the hand, then led her to the buffet. They passed Bob, who was returning with a plate of food for Kim.

      “Fine,” Estelle conceded. “Bob, darling, you did such a good job with Kim’s plate, do you think you could do the same for me? It’s been such a long day that I think I’ll pass out if I have to get up and pick out my own food.” She peeked over at Kim’s plate.


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