Page 73 of Love Overboard
“Bye, Lacey-bell. I’m sorry my health ruined your birthday.”
Her parents headed for the elevators, and Lacey let out the breath she was holding.
“Ten.”
She grabbed the top of a nearby chair and waited for her stomach to get off the merry-go-round.
Emily and Gerry sat on the couch behind where Lacey’s family had gathered. A frosted-glass wall blocked them from view. This time, the eavesdropping was truly accidental. Gerry had wanted to observe the passengers, mining the crowd for colorful characters to use in her novel, and Emily joined her on a whim. They’d already taken a seat when Lacey and her parents walked over.
The ladies communicated with their eyes. They argued without words. Should they stay? Should they leave? What if Lacey noticed them? She might get the wrong idea. Their silent debate continued as the parents left. They waited a few seconds for the family to disperse, then let out a mutual sigh.
Until Lacey walked around the corner. She locked on them, and her left brow rose.
Their frames hunched as if they were trying to fold up like umbrellas.
Emily rushed to explain. “Dear, we didn’t mean to—”
Lacey held her hand stiff like a Stop sign.
“Lacey.” Malaya called from the front desk and waved her arm. “Can you help us, please? This couple wants more information about the ballroom classes.”
Lacey squeezed her lids shut for a brief second, smiled, and pivoted. She walked the few yards to the couple. “I’m so glad you asked. You’ll love the ballroom classes. I took one myself, and it’s better than a thirty-minute workout.”
Her cheerful chatter carried to the regretful eavesdroppers. Gerry ducked her head. Emily placed a hand on her shoulder and patted. Small convulsive shudders shook her stoic friend as she fought for control. Geraldine Paroo might masquerade as a cold, grumpy spinster, but inside, she was a hot spring of empathy.
“It’s okay, dear.” Emily pressed her lips together.
Lacey finished helping the customer and stalked away.
Emily rose from her seat. “Stay here, Gerry. I’ll explain it to her.”
She hurried after Lacey’s rigid form, but the girl was practically running. She outpaced her by half a hallway and disappeared around the corner. Emily kept on until she also passed the corner. She walked quickly despite the growing ache in her spine, examining each connecting corridor.
Lacey was nowhere.
Emily paused, rubbed at the hollow in her lower back, and tried to imagine where Lacey would go on this deck for privacy. Her head turned to the starboard side. An outer balcony stretched the length of the ship. Right before dinner hour, when the passengers were returning from town, it would be deserted.
Emily made her way to the double doors and pulled on the handle. A blustery wind hit her as she walked outside. She scanned right and left. The wooden floorboards stretched empty in both directions. Except … a crumpled white heap by the wall caught her eye. The setting sun hindered her vision.
Emily peered in that direction until she saw the huddle move. Lacey crouched above the ground, not quite sitting, with her arms hugging her legs. She shot up an instant later and stomped her foot against the floor. Her head tilted to the sky, her mouth wide open as if she were screaming. Lacey pushed her hands into her hair and grabbed it like she wanted to tear it out.
Emily considered going inside. The poor girl obviously didn’t want company. Emily grasped the knob, but Lacey spotted her. She unwound her hands from her hair. Dead air stretched between them like an awkward chasm.
Lacey spoke first.
“So now you know.” Her voice wavered. “I have a loser for a father.”
Emily thought it best to stay where she was. “I’m sure he’s sorry for his mistake, dear.”
“Of course he is.” Lacey laughed. “Every time. When he left me waiting in the cold for an hour and a half after my dance recital, he was sorry. When he declared bankruptcy and moved us to a new town during my senior year, he was sorry. And when he blows the money I send them on online shopping sprees, he’s always sorry.” The fading sun highlighted the wet tracks streaking Lacey’s cheeks. She looked out at the water and drew a shuddery breath.
Emily inched near, but the distraught girl didn’t move. Emily closed the distance and stood at her side. “Does your father have a gambling problem?”
Lacey’s lip quirked. “Not at all. He has a maturity problem.”
The correct response eluded Emily, so she remained silent.
“It was like growing up with a ten-year-old for a dad.” Lacey stared at the clouds. “If he wanted something, he bought it. If the boss offended him, he quit. My mother worked three jobs to support us, while he did anything and everything he pleased.”
