Page 92 of Ripple Effect
Everyone laughs, especially Camille, who asks, “Baubles aren’t your thing, Elizabeth?”
My left hand, which has been resting in my lap, clenches. “Not really, no. Just a few cherished pieces that were given to me over the years.”Like the wedding rings I haven’t worn in two months, I think to myself.
“Well, if you don’t find anything to tempt you in that room, it’s highly unlikely you’ll ever be the kind of woman who will,” she proclaims.
Linc mutters, “Can you teach that? If you can, maybe you’ll be a good influence for Camille on this trip and we can manage to put our children through college.”
To change the focus off me, I ask, “How much is college these days?”
Well, that sends Linc and the rest of our tablemates on a rant. Even I gasp when I hear that $30,000 is not unusual for a private college tuition. Per year. “That’s outrageous.”
Linc gives me a look of sheer torment. “And we have four.”
Camille hits him. “You enjoyed making them well enough.”
I begin to choke on my dessert. But in the back of my mind are a million questions like, how did you make it this far? Did you ever want to give up?
Did you ever doubt your love was strong enough to make it?
I, of course, don’t ask them. Instead, when dinner is finished, I wander up on deck for a bit. I stare at the stars for a few. I wander around the deck chairs that I’m certain will be filled with bodies trying to bask in the rays of the sun. And finally, I stand at the rail near the front of the ship and watch as the boat breaks through the waves of the water, uncaring of the ripples it leaves in its wake.
It’s forging a new path, just like I need to.
With that, I head down to my suite as exhaustion overtakes me.
62
Elizabeth
Year Six - Five Years Ago from Present Day – October 22 1549 Hours GMT
I’ve taken so many pictures at the Sacred Art Museum, I think my finger might be permanently crooked. But there’s a wide smile on my face as I board theSea Force. I’m so inspired by the Flemish art section, the size and composition of which I’ve never seen before, as well as the vast collection of sculptures, mainly from Mechelen and Antwerp.
In my mind, my sketchbook is already in my hand as I show my sea pass and identification to gain access to the ship. I think the tile work would look astounding in the bathroom display, I muse to myself as I slide my bag onto the conveyor belt to be x-rayed. Then if I… I slam into someone in front of me. “Oh, excuse me. I’m so sorry!” My eyes widen when I meet Alessio’s amused eyes.
“Ah, Signora Sullivan. You have daydreams in your eyes. It’s quite lovely,” he muses. Stepping aside, he allows me to precede him through the security scanner.
I’m so flustered, I don’t realize he must be right behind me because as soon as I pick up my first bag, he’s already handing me my second. “Here you are.”
“Thank you.” Why on earth does this man disconcert me so greatly?
He shrugs before giving me a smile that displays his dimples but doesn’t seem to reach those bottomless eyes. I turn away. “I’m sorry, I don’t know much about life at sea. Was today your day off? Did you have time to enjoy the city?” I drag out Nonna’s reminders to be polite no matter what the circumstance—you never know when it will come back to benefit you.
He rubs his thumb against his lower lip. “You are unique, signora. Are you aware of that?”
I step back. “Excuse me?”
“There are not many in your elevated position as a guest on a vessel such as this who would ask a question about a crew member. Even as we stand here, you see how many I serve who don’t acknowledge me.”
I shrug, growing more uncomfortable by the minute but feeling trapped into saying something. “I can’t speak for them, only myself.”
He nods, as if making a decision before answering. “I did have a few hours of shore leave. I had just enough time to run a few errands.”
“Well, I hope your day worked out as planned, then.”
I start to make my way to the elevator bank when I hear him say behind me, “It was. It may just need a few small adjustments.”
Why I feel like I need a sweater or a warm drink as a result of the chill that races through me after that comment, I don’t know. I just offer Alessio a polite smile as I step into the elevator, anxious to get back to the sanctity of my room.
