Page 19 of Hearts Aweigh
Emily gestured to Gerry and Althea. “How long have they been at it?”
“Playing cards or fussing?” Daisy asked. “They commenced their rummy battle twenty minutes ago and their verbal battle one minute later. I’ll never understand why they obtain such pleasure from besting each other.”
“It keeps their brains nimble.” Emily stretched her leg out on the chaise with a wince. “I realize the surprise visit from your family has been a trial. How are you holding up?”
Daisy’s mouth formed a moue of distaste. “My son possesses a rare talent for being disagreeable, but any trouble is worth the joy of seeing my granddaughter.” Her expression softened. “Madeleine looked precious in her lovely outfit yesterday. I wish I could have taken a picture, but my camera was in my cabin.”
“Maybe she’ll be the motivation to make you buy a cell phone. I’d welcome the chance to get rid of those walkie-talkies.”
Daisy shook her head. “I’m afraid my son would take advantage of the ability to contact me. I prefer to live in peaceful harmony on the MSBuckingham—out of reach from anyone in my former life.”
“Guess I’d better keep my charger.” Emily sighed. “At least you only have to put up with Spencer for a few days. Then life can return to normal.”
“Yes.” Daisy picked at the polish on her fingernails.
Emily eyed the nervous tell. She’d held her tongue so far, but the curiosity was killing her. What was the meaning behind the ominous card in Daisy’s pocket? And what indiscretion had the note referred to?
“You seem a bit on edge lately. And not just about Spencer. Does it have something to do with that black envelope Magda gave you?”
Daisy’s fingers stilled. She lowered them to her lap and raised her prim nose. “I’d rather not discuss it.”
Emily started to speak, then thought better of it. Before this voyage, Daisy had always been the sweet one. Well-mannered. Careful not to make waves or break protocol. The arrival of her family had unlocked another aspect of her personality.
Despite Emily’s impatient nature, she cared enough about her friend to wait. Confidences couldn’t be forced.
“Woo-hoo!” Althea’s gleeful call interrupted the awkwardness. “I got you now.” She slapped an ace on the pile.
Gerry moaned and tossed her cards on the table. “Don’t we have matches to arrange?” She pushed away, and the chair legs squawked. “Emily, did you speak with the minister?”
Emily lowered her feet to the floor. “Yes. I talked with Mr. Boynton after breakfast, and he was keen to meet Abby. It probably didn’t hurt I kept mentioning what a looker she is.”
“Never does.” Althea gathered the cards and slipped them into their box. “A truth that never changes is men like a pretty face. When are we going to set the couple up?”
“Very soon.” Emily glanced at her watch and stood. “I’ve arranged to meet Mr. Boynton in half an hour outside the Kids Kingdom. He plans to ask Abby to dinner.”
“Oooh, let’s all go.” Althea bounced from her chair. “I wanna see for myself if there’s any sparks.”
“I doubt they want an audience.” Gerry withdrew her notebook and pen from her bag. “Still, they might require assistance soothing those first-meeting jitters.”
“Y’all go without me.” Daisy settled on her lounge. “I have some thinking to do.”
Althea gave her roommate a quick squeeze. “Don’t think too hard. I’ll meet you at the cabin in an hour. We can get readyfor dinner.” She bustled to Emily and Gerry. Standing between them, she slipped her arms around theirs and hurried them in the direction of the children’s area. “Let’s go, girls. Romance is awaitin’.”
Emily peeked over her shoulder. Daisy sat in the same position, her hand resting atop the pocket where she’d placed the envelope. Giving a friend space was one thing, but if someone was trying to hurt one of their own, he’d have the wrath of the Shippers to deal with.
CHAPTER 8
SPENCER RUSHED THROUGH THE GLASSdoors of the Kids Kingdom. He’d planned to leave Madeleine for only a short while, but an emergency text from the law firm had led to six hours of phone calls, emails, and online meetings. His main objective for coming on the cruise remained untouched. When would he find the time to resolve things with his mother?
Riotous music, along with shouts and laughter, filled his ears. Across the wide playroom, Abigail O’Brien marshaled a crooked conga line of children. She pounded a fervent beat on the colorful drum tucked under her arm as she led a dynamic chant.
“One, two, three. Kick! One, two, three. Kick!”
The dancers snaked ever closer, thrusting their legs to the right and the left in a disjointed rhythm. She orchestrated the movement like an expert conductor who walked the fine line between creativity and chaos. Red curls bounced with every bob of her head. Her joyous, carefree abandon beckoned him.
He took a step back.
She spotted his movement near the door. Abby passed her drum to a coworker and hurried over. “Mr. Masterson, I’m so glad you’re here.”
