The Loose Ends List(17)

“What was up with Aunt Trish tonight? She’s not usually that bad,” Janie yells over the wave sounds.

“I don’t know. Open bar mixed with a new diet? She’s never liked parties anyway. She’ll probably be mortified in the morning.”

Janie finally comes in from naked stretching and gets into bed.

“I used to think dying was the worst thing that could happen to someone,” I say, getting under the covers, “but the misery some of these people have to deal with… death might be better.”

“Duh, Maddie. Everyone knows that.”

“We need to take better care of ourselves.”

“You’re such an old lady.”

I go to sleep with a dull ache in my back. It’s probably from flipping around on the dance floor, but I can’t help wondering where my pancreas is.





SEVEN


GRAM GATHERED US all in the café for breakfast this morning. She told us we’re not sleeping this trip away and she wants us doing some activities. Janie and I made searching for Captain Do Me an activity. We recruited Aunt Rose to make it look less suspicious. She couldn’t really keep up, so we made her wear Mom’s tennis shoes, and when she was still too slow, we pushed her around the ship in a wheelchair from the infirmary. We took a break from searching to sit with Mark the wheelchair guy and his brother, Burt, in the café and found out that Mark has a really bad kind of multiple sclerosis.

“Is it strange that I’m also slightly attracted to a forty-year-old in a wheelchair?” Janie says.

“Yes,” Aunt Rose shouts.

“He’s really hot,” Janie says. “It’s hard to believe those two are brothers. The hot guy got the disease genes, and the ugly guy got the healthy genes.”

“Hot guy used to be a world-class surfer. His brother told me he has erectile dysfunction and has to wear a diaper,” I say.

“Why would he tell you that?” Janie asks.

“Payback for being the not-hot brother?” I can see Janie is trying to process that thought. “I don’t know, he acted like it was funny. He’s a buffoon.”



Vito’s family doesn’t seem to know that baby oil isn’t sunscreen. They’re all splayed out on deck chairs frying their leathery bodies while Janie and I hide in the corner, reading Vogue in our bikinis. The pool area has a little hot tub oasis with waterfalls. We’ve named it “the Grotto.” The bald lady with the purple lipstick and Gram are in there right now, drinking champagne and sexually harassing the poor waiter.

Wes cannonballs into the pool, and Vito’s daughters shriek at him.

“What? Don’t sit by the pool, then,” he snaps. Uncle Billy and Wes have been fighting since we got to Bermuda. They’re barely talking to each other, and they’re both cranky.

“Hi, Maddie,” Paige says, wheeling the baby in her stroller.

She plops down next to us in her skirted mom bathing suit and giant sun hat.

“Paige! Hi. This is my cousin Janie.”

“Who is this? Can I pick her up?” Janie reaches for the baby. “Oh, my gosh, she’s so cute. Can I take her in the pool?”

“Her name is Grace. And by all means, go for it.” We watch Janie ease into the pool and dip baby Grace’s toes. She screeches with joy.

“I was hoping I would see you up here, little sister,” Paige says.

I turn on my side and prop my head on the fluffy towel. “Shouldn’t there be some sort of an initiation if I’m pledging your sorority?”

“We can just skip to talking about boys and eating frozen yogurt,” she says. “I have to say, I could not stop thinking about college last night.”

Janie bounces Grace in the water. Every time Wes goes under and pops up, she laughs hysterically. All babies love Wes.

“Look at her, she loves it,” Paige says.

I tell Paige about the E’s and the boyfriend sagas and Ethan and the “accident.” She tells me she had a stoner boyfriend with the opposite problem. I didn’t even know that was a thing.

Jeb runs past us and flips into the choppy pool. Burt comes from the other side of the pool and yanks down his shorts.

“Full moon tonight,” he yells.

“Full hairy moon,” Paige jokes.

“Fro yo?” She gets up and pulls her maxidress over her suit.

“Totally. Swirl with sprinkles, please.”

Paige makes her way across the deck to the frozen yogurt bar. I turn over on my stomach and see someone walking in the shadows toward the stairwell.

It’s the guy from the elevator.

He’s tall and lacrosse-body lean with brown hair and a strong jaw. He’s shirtless and sweaty and wearing running shorts, chugging a bottle of water and swinging a towel. He rounds the corner and disappears. I think I’ll keep Mystery Guy to myself. I don’t need Janie getting her grubby little paws on him. This one’s mine.



I’m trying hard not to have scrunch face at the first Mix-and-Mingle dinner, otherwise known as the awkward sit-with-two-strangers-and-talk-about-random-nonsense dinner. They deliberately make us sit four to a table so we can get to know one another better. Wes and I are sitting with Obese Lady and Skinny Guy. Thank God Wes can talk to anyone.

Skinny Guy is the patient. His name is Dave, and he’s an alcoholic. He’s only forty-seven but has end-stage liver disease, and he says he’s tired of fighting his demons.