The Loose Ends List(15)

“I just met a woman who can’t move at all. Like, she can’t even talk. Her husband talks for her. She has ALS. I mean, look at her. She can’t be older than thirty-five,” Janie says. I glance quickly at the woman. She’s the one with Harry Potter glasses guy. She’s propped up at her table in a wheelchair.

“This is awful, Janie.”

She nods.

I move salad around on the plate and watch my family inhale steak with truffle butter.

Eddie stands up with a microphone.

“Hello, passengers and crew,” Eddie says, pushing up his praying mantis glasses. “We are honored to have you on board the Wishwell. As many of you know, our founder, Dr. Francesca Ivanhoe, lost her husband and her father to long, debilitating diseases. Since then, she’s made it her lifelong mission to ease the pain and suffering of good people across the globe, teaming up with others at the Wishwell Research Facilities to launch our ship.”

A blond, very tan guy, probably just out of college, walks in through the side entrance. I elbow Janie. “Three o’clock,” I whisper. He’s dressed in a white suit, more seventies chic than forties, but somehow he pulls it off.

“And I’m happy to announce by this time next year, we’ll have two more ships on the water.”

People clap and cheer.

Janie whips her head around. “Oh my God. He’s mine,” she says.

I quickly scan the room for Elevator Guy, but he’s not here.

“Francesca is a truly beautiful woman, inside and out. You would never know from her gentle demeanor that she is a revolutionary, a world changer, and we are so lucky to have her. It is my great pleasure to introduce Francesca Ivanhoe.”

The clapping and cheering erupts again. A striking woman walks to the front of the room wearing a ruby-colored mermaid dress and killer heels. She tosses her long black hair and smiles. Her presence makes the room feel lighter.

“Oh, you amazing people, I love you all so much. Welcome to this ship that is close to my heart for many reasons,” she says with a thick Italian accent. “Something ugly brought us together. But something amazing will connect our souls forever.”

I don’t know whether to crawl under the table or join in the cheers. I lean over to Janie. “She’s a death cheerleader.”

“Shh. I like her. She’s fun.”

“As you begin your journey, I ask that you open yourselves up to those around you. Search inward, search outward, challenge the depths of your being, and of course, do it with a spring in your step or, Holly and Mark, your wheels. Now let’s party.”

The wall separating the dining room and the ballroom slides open to reveal the deep glow of the room at sunset. We make our way toward the ballroom. Janie keeps her eye on Mr. Three O’Clock, who is talking to Eddie. Janie’s going to get him. She’ll toss her blond hair, wrinkle her little nose, and stick out her huge edible boobs, and he’ll need help sopping up the bodily fluids. Don’t be embarrassed when it happens, Three O’Clock. It’s a perfectly normal reaction when falling under the spell of Janie O’Neill Peters.

“I’m so excited. I never thought I’d be hooking up on this trip. We need to give him a good nickname.” Janie catches Three O’Clock’s eye and holds his gaze for a full three seconds, then looks away. He keeps looking.

“How about Captain Do Me?” I say.

“Captain Do Me is perfect. Come on, I need to dance.”

Janie walks toward Gram. She’s holding hands with Bob Johns, who is carrying a trumpet case like a purse. I love the way Bob looks at Gram. She’s his princess.

“Might I request a prayer?” the bald purple lipstick lady’s husband calls out. Somebody starts a chant: “Prayer, prayer!”

“Oh, God, this is annoying,” Janie whines.

“Come on, you heathens, a little praying is good for us,” Gram says.

We assemble in two layers of circles. I know there are seven patients, and with all the families, and some of the crew, there are at least forty, maybe fifty of us.

Jeb’s standing awkwardly next to Wheelchair Lady.

“That’s so sad,” I whisper to Bob Johns. “The lady in the wheelchair.”

“Wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy,” Bob says.

“Please take your neighbor’s hand. Don’t worry, I’m a retired minister. I know what I’m doing.” The tiny man is as bald as his wife and only slightly taller. Jeb crouches down and holds one of Wheelchair Lady’s hands. I look around at the little old people and the two wheelchairs and the pained faces. For some reason I have the urge to laugh my ass off. I hold my breath.

“Lord, thank you for giving us the gift of life and for allowing the Wishwell patients the chance to enter your kingdom in peace and comfort. Thank you for giving your humble servants the opportunity to join our loved ones as we sanctify and celebrate the gift of life. May every last breath we share be joyful. Amen.”

“Amen,” they all say. I feel my face turning scarlet as the circles start disbanding, and I cover my mouth with my hands to muffle my laughter.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Uncle Billy is on the other side of me.

“I don’t know.” Tears stream down my face. I can’t stop laughing.

“How is this funny?” Uncle Billy is not amused.