Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
Family Group Chat:
Trixie: Guess who’s getting married? Ransom popped the question and I said YES!!!
Abbey: Mom! WOW! Congratulations on the engagement! ???? Ransom is amazing! We love him!
Parker: Yeah, Mom, congrats! Ransom is the best! Can’t wait for the wedding. When is the big day?
Trixie: Thanks, kiddos! I’m so glad you love him. The date is still up in the air, but I’ll let you know as soon as we set it.
Abbey: I’m so happy for you, Mom! You deserve the best, and Ransom is definitely it. He’s such a gentleman, and he makes you so happy! ??
Parker: And he’s pretty cool, too. He taught me how to play a mean game of poker while we were on that cruise with you. Ha-ha. I’m looking forward to having a stepdad like him.
Stanton: I see everyone’s just thrilled with the news. Interesting choice, Trixie. An FBI behavioral analyst? Do you really have to go dragging the feds into this family?
Abbey: Dad, can we just be happy for Mom? Ransom is great.
Parker: Yeah, Dad, don’t ruin this. Mom deserves to be happy.
Stanton: Sure, sure. But we all know it’s not going to last.
Abbey: Dad, that is so cringe! ??
Parker: Seriously, Dad?
Stanton: I’m just being realistic. Someone has to.
Trixie: Let’s keep it positive, please. It’s a happy time for all of us—or most of us.
N o sooner do we put our luggage in our cabins and do the lifejacket shuffle—the Captain’s words, not mine—than Bess, Nettie, and I show up on the lido deck ready to party with the best of them.
Of course, I filled Bess and Nettie in on that unexpected passenger—the pretty little phantom with the hot pink coat.
Both Bess and Nettie know all about my supernatural quirk, and they should considering they’re the ones that unleashed the supernatural beast within me. It involved a bottle of questionable vodka and a very severe bonk on the head given by those two women—long story.
Wes knows about my supernatural secret, too, and now Ransom rounds out the in-the-know crowd. Tinsley suspects it, but I’ll never cop to it with her. She’s just looking for an excuse to have me locked up in some government lab so she can have Wes and Ransom to herself just like the good old days when I was still stuck with my cheating ex.
But I’m not longing for the old days. I’m one hundred percent here for the new days.
I hold out my left hand and admire my sparkler once again. These shiny new days are oh so much better. But speaking of the old days, something good did come out of them. My children. Two to be exact, both in their twenties, both at university. I already told them the news and they were both ecstatic. They both wholeheartedly approve of Ransom. Who wouldn’t?
“There’s the party,” Bess says, pointing to the far end of the lido deck.
The lido deck is magic in every sense of the word. It’s an open-air deck where most of the ship’s pools and hot tubs are located, along with the Blue Water Café, the never-ending buffet that I seem to find myself at more often than not.
But we’re not headed to the Blue Water Café, we’re headed straight for the Bachelorette Bonanza just as the sun is beginning to set, casting a warm, dreamy golden glow over everything and everyone.
The sky is a canvas of pinks and oranges, blending into the deep blue of the ocean and I try to memorize it so I can paint a picture of it later.
Twinkle lights are strung above us, crisscrossing all across the deck, adding a magical touch as they flicker like tiny stars.
There’s a sign that reads reserved for private party , and just beyond that at least fifty women have congregated while being loud and boisterous, a sure sign they’re already having a good time.
There’s a dedicated bartender doling out both champagne and fruity cocktails and next to his station are a few tables laden with a nice spread of both savory and sweet appetizers. And in the middle of all the bite-size desserts, there’s a cake of a man’s likeness from the head to his mid-torso. He’s bare-chested and with fondant muscles for days. I’ll admit, he looks every bit delicious.
“ Hubba hubba .” Nettie all but drools at the ripped confection.
“This Bachelorette Bonanza is going to be one for the record cookbooks ,” Bess says.
I shake my head at the sight. “I’m just glad they chose not to recreate anything below his belly button.”
“But think of how delicious it would have been,” Nettie moans at the thought.
“I’d better have a drink.” Bess sighs at her bestie. “I have a feeling this is going to be a long night.”
“I’m right there with you, sis.” Nettie slaps Bess on the back so hard it sounds like a peal of thunder. “I just hope they have enough champagne to keep up with us.”
Bess shakes her head. “Nobody has enough champagne to keep up with you.”
“Truer words have never been spoken,” I say.
“And I’m not ashamed to say you’re both right,” Nettie beams with pride.
This end of the deck is alive with activity as the music from the speakers plays upbeat tunes, and the scent of those tropical fruity concoctions mingles with the salty sea air.
The three of us magnetize to the buffet, where the tables are covered with white linens and decorated with colorful centerpieces made of seashells and candles. The tables are laden with an array of delicious-looking dishes, from miniature grilled hot dogs—with a nameplate that reads Marcus’ teeny weenies —spinach artichoke dip baked into puff pastry, deep-fried mini mac and cheese bites, teriyaki meatballs—two on a skewer—and some miniature chicken and waffles sliders that look so good I’d fight to the death for them.
And don’t get me started on the dessert offerings. Mini guava croissants, bite-size raspberry chocolate cheesecake, dainty cups filled with toffee pudding, salted caramel brownies, mini strawberry tarts in the shape of a heart, chocolate chip cookie whipped cream sandwiches, lavender and pink cake pops with sprinkles, and an array of pastel cupcakes that range from French vanilla to red velvet.
“Look at this spread,” Nettie cries out as she shoves a mini cheesecake bite into her mouth.
“That should keep her quiet for about twenty seconds,” Bess says.
My bet is ten.
I’m about to reach for a cheesecake bite myself when Tinsley glides over with a fruity cocktail in her hand. And on the clock no less.
“It’s a virgin,” she snaps my way as if she sensed my judgment. Tinsley is a knockout with her perennially tan skin, long, luscious chestnut locks, and the devil-is-my-father gleam in her eyes. “So when’s the big day?” She glowers at me as if that day might just be my last.
“We don’t know. We don’t have the details,” I say. “In fact, we don’t have any details just yet. But as soon as we do, I’ll more than happily spread the word.” Most of the staff is happy for us. Correction, all of the staff is happy for us sans the one in front of me.
“I bet you will,” she seethes as if she finds my engagement a personal offense. And I’m pretty sure she does.
Bess raises a finger as if to say something just as the brunette we met earlier, Hetty, comes this way with that same timid-looking redhead along with Jennifer who happens to have a pink glitter-filled sash strapped across her chest that reads bride-to-be . That gold necklace of Jennifer’s seems to be hanging crooked because of it, too, with the words My Girl listing over her collarbone.
“You came,” Hetty trills, raising her arms and enveloping us in an all-consuming hug. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here! Isn’t this great? Two brides for the price of one!” She lets out a whoop. “I say let’s cut to the cake .” She laughs up a storm at her play on words before turning to Jennifer and handing her a knife by the blade. “All right, now cut into that muscled wonder so we can all get ourselves a bite of the most delicious man on this ship.”
Clearly, she hasn’t met Ransom.
“No, thank you!” Jennifer holds up the knife as if it were a hot potato before landing it back on the table. “There’s no way I’m cutting into that thing. The chefs outdid themselves. He looks too realistic to carve up.”
“I’m sure the stewards will be happy to do it for you.” Tinsley is quick to pass the buck herself.
“We can always save it for later,” Hetty says. “Besides, now we’ve got two brides to celebrate!” She lifts her fruity red cocktail and crows like a rooster—only to have the rest of the women here belt out a cock-a-doodle-doo themselves.
“What in the name of unholy matrimony is this crowing all about?” Tinsley all but snaps. As much as she doesn’t want to show her true rude colors to the guests, she always comes close.
Hetty waves it off. “It’s a little something we came up with once Jen landed a ring on her finger. We’re all a part of the same book club back home called Just a Few Chicks and Their Books. So when Marcus popped the question we teased that she invited a cock into our midst.” She giggles to herself. “It’s crude, I know. Anyway, we started to crow any time she brought him up. And, well, it’s sort of stuck.”
“A book club,” I practically coo the words. “How lovely.”
“One would think so,” Tinsley mutters under her breath.
“What state are you all from?” I ask the trio, choosing to ignore the grumpy cruise director in our midst.
“Connecticut,” Jennifer is quick to tell us. “In fact, Amber and I are charter members of the club.” She cranes her neck into the sea of women. “Oh, there she is. She’s the redhead near the railing.” She points to where a thin redhead gazes out at the open water with an ice-blue cocktail in hand. The woman glances our way as if she sensed us, and I’d swear on all that is holy that she just gave the trio in front of us a lethal look.
“I love Connecticut,” I say to the women. “I’m originally from Maine.”
“Maine is my favorite state!” Hetty is quick to belt out. “I spent years in Bangor.”
“Oh really?” Jennifer backs up a notch. “I thought you said you were from North Carolina?”
“I am.” Hetty laughs twice as loud before looking to the rather quiet redhead in their midst. “I was just passing through. But boy, was it beautiful.”
“Connecticut is lovely, too,” Lucy, the redhead, says rather firmly, and it seems she’s talking to Hetty in particular. She’s all business tonight with her dark blazer and matching pencil skirt, and right down to her dark loafers with their squared-off toes and shiny gold buckles. Honestly, it looks as if she swiped them right off a Pilgrim. “That’s where we met Jen and her friends.”
“That’s right,” Jennifer sings. “Lucy here taught sixth grade to my youngest son. I have three kids, two girls and a boy. He’s my baby.” She mock cries. “I just can’t believe how quickly they grow up. Soon, they’ll be older than me!”
“But they still need you.” Lucy is quick to tell her. “And they need a healthy environment, too.”
Hetty and Jennifer exchange a rather tense glance.
“Yes, I totally agree,” Jennifer says with a newfound soberness to her tone.
“Do either of you have children?” Tinsley asks Hetty and Lucy while Nettie finds this the perfect excuse to dive back to the dessert table.
“None for me,” Hetty says with a shudder. “No, thank you. Although I was once married to a man with a toddler and that was about as close as I’d like to get.” She hitches her thumb at Lucy. “And as for her, she’s too much of a prude to figure out how they’re made. Kidding! She’s sort of the opposite.”
“You were never married.” Jen inches back as she inspects Hetty. And by the looks of it, Lucy seems relieved to have the heat taken off of her so-called prudishness.
Lucy belts out a laugh and I can’t help but think it sounds forced. “Hetty tends to get her facts mixed up when she’s had one too many.” She snatches the cocktail right out of Hetty’s hands. “I think you’ve had enough.”
“You give that back to me,” Hetty demands, but Lucy takes off with it, and Hetty bolts right after her while laughing up a storm.
“If you ladies will excuse me,” Bess says. “I think someone else here needs an intervention.” She nods toward Nettie who’s currently building what looks like a Jenga tower out of the sweet treats as she piles them onto a plate no bigger than a saucer.
Tinsley growls, “And I’d better check to see how the rest of the guests are doing.” She nods to Jennifer. “We’ll be seeing a lot of each other this trip. Have a great rest of the night. Please, enjoy your party.”
They take off and Jennifer leans in.
“Don’t mind my friends,” she says. “Sometimes I can just kill them.”
And seeing that there’s a ghost on board, it does beg the question of when and not if someone will get killed indeed.