It was no wonder then that I felt this great emptiness in my heart when she walked of the ship. Suddenly all the things I was looking forward to held no interest for me. And now there was Daddy to cheer up.
The first day he kept himself busy with all the arrangements for the excursions the passengers would make and the docking of the ship. The Spenser sisters and their parents invited me to go to dinner with them in Montego Bay, but I didn't want to leave Daddy this first night without Momma, even though he insisted I go. Mrs. Spenser had asked him for permission to take me, so he knew about it. We didn't get a chance to really talk until late in the afternoon. I joined him in the captain's office, and after he and the captain had completed their discussions and the captain left, we remained.
"You should go to dinner with your girlfriends, Leigh. I want you to enjoy yourself here."
"But Daddy, I thought we would go to dinner together." "I have to stay on board and do some other things," he replied. "I intend to just grab a quick bite."
"I'll grab one with you and help you do whatever you have to do," I insisted.
"No, that's not right," Daddy said. He shook his head. He looked so tired, so worn down by the day's events. Shadows deep and dark settled in his eyes. The walls of my heart quivered. I held the tears within and swallowed, and then I tried to find a voice that wouldn't tremble and sound like a little girl's voice.
"Why did Momma have to leave us like that, Daddy? Couldn't you have gotten the ship's doctor to talk to her?"
He shook his head.
"It wasn't just her bout with seasickness, Leigh. She wasn't very happy about this cruise from the start."
"But why, Daddy? She always talked about it, didn't she? She wanted to come to Jamaica. So many of her friends had been here," I insisted. "Didn't she once pin up that magazine ad in your office, the one that said 'Come to Jamaica--it's no place like home'?"
Daddy nodded, remembering. Then he sighed.
"If she could have been a passenger instead of the owner's wife, she would have been happier about it," he said sadly.
"But why, Daddy? She didn't really have to work and we have the best ship's quarters anyone can have. You did everything she wanted you to do."
"I'm afraid not, Leigh. Your mother continues to be disappointed in me."
"But why?" I cried. "You give us everything. We have a beautiful home and we can buy almost anything we want. All my friends are envious."
"Sometimes, those things are just not enough," he said. He looked at me for a long moment and then he warmed me with a smile. "Sometimes, especially when you are frustrated, you look so much like her, and yet, you are so different."
"We are?" I was surprised to hear him say that. He was always saying we were like sisters now, especially in front of Momma. Was it because I hadn't yet grown to like all the things she liked as much as she liked them?
"How are we different, Daddy? I know she's so pretty and . . ."
"Oh no," he said quickly, "it has nothing to do with that. You're going to be far more beautiful than your mother." It shocked me to hear him say that so sincerely. Me? More beautiful than Momma?
"And you won't have to work at it as hard or as long. Not that your mother isn't blessed with natural beauty. Far from it. She's just more involved in herself than you will be."
"How can you be so sure, Daddy?" I really wanted to know because although I believed he was right, I wasn't sure myself.
"You've got other interests, Leigh. You have an inquisitive mind. You'll be too impatient to learn about other things. Not that you're anything near the tomboy your mother thinks I'm turning you into. No sir. You're every bit a young lady."
Even though our subject was an unhappy one these words from him went straight to my heart and filled it with warmth and love.
He sat back in the captain's oxblood leather chair.
"Your mother is still a very young woman, Leigh. Years ago, when I first set eyes on her in Texas, I didn't seriously consider the differences in our age or think it would be a problem. Perhaps that was the blindness of love.
"Love can be like that, you know, like a blast of sunlight reflecting off the water. You can't look directly into it; you've got to shade your eyes or close them altogether, and when you do that, you see only what you want to see. Do you understand? Are you old enough to understand what I'm saying, Leigh?" he asked.
I nodded. Daddy and I rarely had these sort of serious, adult talks. If ever he would begin to tell me something very serious, he would stop and say, "Oh well, I suppose your mother will tell you about that soon."
"Maybe you do understand," he said smiling. "I think you're a lot brighter than your mother or I think."
"But Daddy, what does all of that have to do with what's happening now?"
"Well, as I said, your mother was still quite young. She matured quickly, of course, but I was already quite settled in my ways. When a man is settled in his ways, it's difficult, if not impossible, for him to change. As your mother grew older, she wanted me to make some changes, be a different person in many ways. I tried, but it's not in my nature, I'm afraid, and that has made your mother very unhappy."
"What ways, Daddy?"
"What ways? Well, for example, she would love me to take her on one of these cruises and act like just another passenger . . . sleep late every day, eat and then recline on the deck or play shuffleboard. In the evening, she would like me to take her dancing and dance all night into the wee hours, drinking champagne, and then sleep late again, and not ask one question of my staff about the business or the conduct of the voyage."
He smiled.
"At times she can be so childlike, so hungry for excitement and fun. I've never seen a woman who has your mother's appetite when it comes to enjoyment and pleasure. I couldn't give her enough diamonds or take her to too many fine restaurants. She's insatiable.
"Oh, I understand her. Your mother is young, beautiful, vivacious. On the other hand, here I am working long hours, deeply involved in a major family-owned enterprise, with little time for frivolities. If your mother had her way," he added shaking his head, "I'd play five hours for every hour worked. But, I'm afraid I can't do that, and even if I could, I probably wouldn't, not only because I'm too old for it, but because it's not part of who I am.
"And so, to answer your question, that's why your mother is disappointed," he concluded and smiled softly at me.
I couldn't keep the tears hidden any longer. As soon as the first one appeared, Daddy got up and came to me.
"Now, now, let's not have any of tin. t. Don't make me regret having this grown-up talk with you, Leigh."
"I won't, Daddy." I wiped my eyes quickly and held back the rest of my tears. My heart ached, but I smiled. "What's going to happen now, Daddy?" I asked.
"We'll see. Your mother wanted to have some time by herself to think things out. In the meantime, young Captain VanVoreen, you and I have a cruise to run, understand?"
"Yes, addy."
"Now, here's my first command. You go with your girlfriends and their parents to dinner and enjoy yourself."
"But what if they start asking me questions about Momma?" I asked. He thought for a moment.
"You say, there were some serious family matters back home that had to have immediate attention. No one would ask you any more than that, and if they did, just tell them your parents didn't tell you more.
"So," he said clapping his hands together, "that should take care of that. Tomorrow you can go shopping in the bazaar and buy all your friends back home something, if you'd like. In the afternoon you can go swimming on the beach, and then in the evening, you and I will go to an authentic Jamaican restaurant and eat something called jerk chicken. One of the porters who happens to come from Jamaica was telling me about it. How does all that sound?"
"Wonderful, Daddy."
"Good. Now get on with you. I want a full report afterward. How's that logbook of yours? Filling up?"
"Oh yes, I write in it every day."
"Good." He kissed me on the cheek and I hugged him tightly and inhaled his familiar scents-- the fragrance of his after-shave and cologne, the aroma of his pipe tobacco, and that fresh and clean smell of the sea.
I wished he and I had had talks like this before. In one way Momma was very right to be jealous of the time he spent on his business. t Wished he had spent more time with me and told me about himself when he was my age and younger. I realized he had never really given me his version of the Cinderella story between him and Momma. Perhaps I could get him to do that someday. Daddy was so modest though. Would he really describe what it was like when he first set eyes on Momma? And would he be willing to describe himself proposing on his knees? He never really expressed any dislike for Grandma Jana or Momma's two sisters. Whenever she ranted and raved about them in front of him and me, he would simply nod or look away. I wanted to know so much more. Hopefully, now that he saw me as older and more mature, he would talk about these things.
My little talk with Daddy in the captain's office did cheer me up enough so that I could go to dinner with the Spensers. They took me to a delightful Italian restaurant called The Casablanca. The tables were set out under the stars and there was a small three-piece band and a singer who crooned romantic songs. Mr. and Mrs. Spenser danced so closely and were so loving and tender with each other, my girlfriends were embarrassed. They giggled like grade school children. I could understand why they were self-conscious about their parents, but I thought it was wonderful to see a husband and wife so loving and affectionate with each other. I couldn't help but close my eyes and imagine they were my parents, imagine Momma and Daddy on this small dance floor with the stars twinkling above and the singer serenading them with songs of love.
Daddy had said love blinds you. When you fall in love, do you have a chance to think about all these things? Do you have a chance to envision what it will be like years and years from now? The way Momma now spoke about Daddy made me feel that if she could have seen what it would be like when he first proposed, she might not have accepted, even if it meant her remaining in Texas with her dreadful sisters.
"When I fall in love," I told the Spenser sisters, "I want it to be just like it is for your parents." They both looked at me, undecided as to whether or not to laugh. They were laughing at everything at this point. My serious expression kept them from doing much more than smiling, although imagined they would talk about me later in their stateroom. It was true we were all about the same age, but I felt so much older than they were.
It was all so confusing for me. Maybe age wasn't important if you had grown up. Maybe what Daddy was telling me back on the ship was that he thought Momma hadn't yet grown up, or grown up the way he had hoped she would.
The music and the stars began to make me sad now. I was happy when it was time to return to the ship. Daddy saw us come aboard and spoke with Mr. and Mrs. Spenser for a while, thanking them for taking me to dinner. Then he asked me how I enjoyed it.
"It was fun," I told him, half telling the truth, half lying. "lut I can't wait until tomorrow night when it will just be you and me, Daddy."
"Oh dear," he said, "it will have to be the following night. I'm sorry. But we have a very important guest coming to dinner aboard ship tomorrow night--the governor of the Island. You understand, don't you, Princess?"
I swallowed my disappointment quickly and put on a mask of smiles just the way Momma could.
"Yes, Daddy. I'm tired," I told him. "I'll just go to sleep."
He kissed me good night and then went off to check on something in the kitchen. I hurried down to my suite and shut the door behind me. Then I fell on my bed and cried. I wasn't crying over any one thing, but all of it--crying over Momma's leaving us, crying over seeing someone else's parents so happily in love, crying over Daddy's frustration and unhappiness with Momma and her unhappiness with him, crying over his not being able to be with only me.
After I had cried ten oceans of tears, I was finally tired out and I curled up in my bed, hugging my stuffed sailor teddy bear, I could hear the ballroom dance band playing something soft and lovely above and I could hear the water lapping against the sides of the ship below, and if I listened even harder, I could hear the beating of my heart.
Nothing could have made me feel more lonely. I was happy to fall asleep.
I tried very hard to keep myself occupied during our remaining time in Montego Bay so that I wouldn't keep thinking about Momma's going home, because whenever I did, my heart felt like a brick in my chest. The Spenser sisters and I finally made friends with two boys who at first seemed very disinterested in us, probably because they were high school age and thought it was beneath them to associate with younger girls. They both attended a prep school outside of Boston and had their noses in the air. A number of times before, I had seen them side by side in lounge chairs on the deck or playing chess, but they never paid me or the Spenser sisters the slightest attention.
The taller of the two, a boy with very thin, light brown hair and hazel eyes, introduced himself as Fulton Wittington, Jr. His friend, Raymond Hunt, was much stouter and far less good-looking, but a lot more informal and relaxed. I think he liked me because it was he who brought us together when he saw Clara, Melanie and I playing shuffleboard. He began to tease me.
"You push that like you're pushing a broom," he said.
Although he wasn't very good-looking because his mouth was too long and his nose was too thin, he did have a friendly, warm smile, once he let himself smile.
"I wouldn't know. I never pushed a broom," I retorted and turned my back to them. That made them both laugh.
"You better not make fun of her," Clara said with her hands on her hips. "Her father owns the ship."
"Oh?" Fulton suddenly became more interested and very soon after, they joined our game, first to give us instructions, and then just to have fun. We all had lunch together and decided to go to the beach together that afternoon. The Spenser sisters giggled and whispered most of the time, which I thought was very impolite and immature. Before the afternoon ended, they were off to themselves, splashing and frolicking in the water, and I was left with both boys, lying between them on a great beach towel.
It was a cloudless day with the sea breeze making the sun seem less intense than it really was, but I had all Momma's suntan oils and skin creams. Fulton, Raymond and I talked about many things, including school, the new movies and fashions. For the most part, I found they liked and disliked many of the same things I did.
Fulton's family had a seaside home on Cape Cod, and when I mentioned having been to the sea recently at Farthinggale Manor, I was surprised to learn that not only did he know of it, but his father had purchased two Tatterton Toys, a replica of the Tower of London, and a replica of the Bastille.
"They're wonderful!" Fulton exclaimed. "There's even a working guillotine. If you put your pinky finger under it, it would cut the tip off."
"I think I can do without that," I said grimacing.
"A number of my parents' friends have Tatterton collector's toys. My father instructed the manager of the Tatterton Toy Store to inform him the moment any other famous prison has been made."
"My mother wants my father to get a Tatterton toy," Raymond said. "He's supposed to buy one this Christmas."
"My parents are very proud of them," Fulton added. He wanted to know what Farthinggale Manor was like, so I described it and told them both about Tony and Troy and the maze. They seemed fascinated and I was very proud of myself for being so interesting and attractive to two older boys, both of whom were obviously very rich and very well traveled. I thought Momma would be very proud of me as well.
I kept calling to the Spenser sisters and telling them to put on some skin creams, but they didn't listen so both of them got bad shoulder and neck burns before we quit the beach and returned to the ship.
"You know," Fulton said while he looked out at the Spenser sisters, "it's very difficult, if not impossible, to believe you are their age."
"You could pass for a high school senior," Raymond said and Fulton agreed. In the bright sunlight my blushing was undetected, but I felt a tingle of excitement in the way they both gazed at me now.
That night I waved to them from the captain's table where I sat with Daddy and the governor of the Island. Everyone talked about the tourist industry and how Jamaica was growing to be one of the most popular spots in the Caribbean. When the governor described his hope that it would be the sort of vacation paradise not only the very rich and
glamorous would enjoy, but the middle class as well, I thought it was good Mamma wasn't here. She would be very disappointed in learning that, for she was always looking for special places that only the very rich or famous visited.
I saw that Clara and Melanie hadn't come to dinner. When I inquired about them, Mr. and Mrs. Spenser told me they were back in their suite suffering with their very bad sunburns. After dinner Raymond and Fulton escorted me to the Caribbean show, which turned out to be one of the most exciting shows I had ever seen on any of Daddy's luxury cruises. There were folk dancers in colorful costumes and straw hats, calypso musicians with a twenty-piece steel-drum band and folk singers who sang songs about love on the islands.
After the entertainment portion, guests were invited to try the limbo. They had to dance and lean back and slip under this bamboo pole without touching it. It was lowered and lowered until there was barely anyone left in the game. At that point an island dancer dropped his body until he was barely inches from the floor and moved under the pole with the agility of a snake. The audience loved it.
I spent the entire next day with Fulton and Raymond. They taught me how to play chess and we went swimming on the beach again. In the cooler, later afternoon, we went shopping in the street markets and I found a beautiful hand-painted silk scarf I knew Momma would love. I bought Daddy an ornamental cane covered with carved fish.
Fulton and Raymond wanted to take me on a glass-bottom boat and tour the harbor, but I was anxious to get back to the ship and dress for dinner because this was the night Daddy was taking me to a Jamaican restaurant instead of our eating aboard. I was looking forward to the two of us having a wonderful evening together, talking. I put on some of the costume jewelry Momma had left me and sat before my mirror brushing my hair just the way she always did, counting out one hundred strokes. I put on the lipstick just the way she showed me and sprayed myself with jasmine perfume. I wore a bright blue silk blouse with a lace embroidered collar and a full pleated matching skirt. So that I would look older and more sophisticated, unbuttoned the first two buttons of my blouse.
My face was evenly tanned and the silver earrings and bright blouse highlighted it well. I felt that I looked sensational and I hoped against hope that Daddy would think so too. Older boys liked me and found me fun and interesting and mature. I was wearing Momma's jewelry and perfume and I admitted to myself for the first time that there were strong resemblances between us. Perhaps I really was going to be beautiful after all. Was it vain to think it? I couldn't help admiring my own image in the mirror, even though I knew it wasn't very nice to be conceited. But there was no one here, no one would know, I thought.
I stood there assuming different poses, trying to imitate some of Momma's expressions and looks. I sucked in my cheeks, turned my shoulders, drew my shoulders back and thrust out my breasts until they looked more prominent. I pretended a handsome, young man was looking at me across the dance floor. Should I smile back and encourage him? Momma probably would, I thought, even though Daddy wouldn't like it. I turned slowly and smiled. Then I laughed at myself. But it was fun to be silly.
I took a deep breath, gazed at myself in the mirror one more time to check my hair, and then went out to meet my date, Daddy.
He was waiting for me on deck. Suddenly I felt all quivery over how I would look to him, but he took one glance at me and smiled widely, his eyes brightening just the way they often did when Momma appeared all dressed up to go to a gala or to a fancy restaurant.
"Do I look all right?" I could almost hear Momma whispering behind me:
"It's all right to fish for compliments, Leigh. A woman should sound a little insecure, no matter how sure of herself she might be."
"You look gorgeous, Princess." He turned to his right. "We have the prettiest date in Jamaica tonight," he declared to Captain Willshaw.
"No question about that," Captain Willshaw said, stepping forward. I had been so anxious about how I looked to Daddy when he first saw me that I hadn't even noticed the captain standing on the sidelines.
I couldn't help my look of confusion, nor my look of disappointment when Daddy added, "The captain has recommended what he has found to be the best restaurant in Jamaica, and he has agreed to join us for dinner, Leigh. Isn't that nice?"
"Join us for dinner? Oh. Yes."
But Daddy, I thought, what happened to our private date? Don't you understand what is in my heart of hearts? Couldn't you see that I needed you and you alone with me tonight? What happened to what was supposed to be our wonderful night in Jamaica when we would comfort each other and grow closer to each other? Oh, I had so many private and personal things to tell him. I wanted to tell him about Fulton and Raymond and about Tatterton Toys and what I had bought for Momma. I wanted to tell him how I was planning to try harder not to displease her and do things that would cause them to fight.
Mostly, I wanted him to look at me and be reminded of her and then I wanted to hear him tell me how much he missed her and needed her. I hoped to have him tell me about their first days together when their romance was intense and true, the way I hoped love would be for me someday.
We would walk hand in hand through the Jamaican night after dinner and feel happy again under the stars.
But instead, Daddy and Captain Willshaw talked about the cruise. They went through it all, endlessly evaluating each and every day, each and every event, reviewing what they would change, what they would improve or increase. I listened politely. Normally I might have been interested but tonight I had wanted my father to treat me like a woman. I was bored and terribly unhappy. Even though the food was delicious, I lost my appetite and had to force myself to eat, but Daddy didn't seem to notice.
We had to return to the ship immediately after dinner because it was the last night in Jamaica and there was a show and a ball planned. I told Daddy I had to go to my suite for a while and I would meet him later.
"Just like your mother, you've got to go powder your nose, eh, Princess?" he asked. He winked at the captain.
"Yes Daddy," I said, my eyes down. I felt two small tears in the corners of my eyes. They lingered without falling.
"You all right? That food wasn't too spicy, was it? You're not overtired, are you?" he asked, his voice filled with fatherly concern.
"No Daddy." I had to bite the inside of my mouth to keep from crying or screaming. Why was he talking to me as if I were a little girl again? Why couldn't he see what was really wrong? Were men simply insensitive to the things women felt? I had so many questions running through my mind, questions that I guess only another woman could answer.
When I entered my suite, I felt so letdown and alone that all I could do was sit on the bed and cry. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror--my hair brushed and shining, my beautiful clothing, Momma's jewelry and my evenly tanned face now changed by sadness and tears. I thought I looked pathetic and ridiculous, like some little girl trying to imitate her mother. I had hoped that when Daddy set eyes on me and had inhaled Momma's jasmine perfume, he would have lost himself in the memories of her and be soft and precious with me. But none of that had happened.
Never had I felt I needed Momma more. I wanted her to tell me what she felt like when she had dressed herself up and not dazzled a man the way she had planned to. What could I do? I couldn't talk intimately with anyone on this ship, certainly not the Spenser sisters, or someone else's mother.
How horrible it must be for a real orphan, I thought, never to have anyone you trust and who loves you and will not laugh at you when you told her your deepest, most heartfelt feelings. Tonight, I felt like an orphan, cast out on the sea, floating aimlessly about, lost in the waves to be tossed here and there with no one to hear my cries.
I wiped my tear-streaked face and looked at myself in the mirror. Maybe Daddy and I would have our private chat in a day or so on the way home. Maybe it was very hard for him to talk about these things and he was deliberately finding ways to avoid talking about them. He had so much on his mind, so much responsibility and worry, and didn't need me to add to the list. I would have to be more understanding and more patient, I thought. I straightened up.
"No one cares about someone who is pathetic and weak," Momma once told me. "Pity is the most degrading emotion. Even if you are upset, don't give anyone the satisfaction of knowing it. It makes them feel superior."
"All right, Momma," I whispered, as if she were here in my suite beside me, "I'll do what I must do. No one will know my secret, sad thoughts. I'll do it for Daddy and I'll do it for you, and I'll do it for myself."
I stood up with determination, but in my secret, putaway heart I knew that when I returned to my suite at the end of the evening and crawled under the covers and put out the lights, I would sob like a baby in the darkness until I cried myself asleep.
The journey home seemed so much longer because I was so anxious to get there to see Momma and to see Momma greet Daddy. I got down on my knees every night and prayed that she would be less angry with him. I did a lot of reading and worked on my lessons with my tutor, Mr. Abrams. I played chess with Raymond and Fulton and went to the movies and shows with them and spent time with the Spenser sisters. Daddy seemed busier than ever. I barely caught a glimpse of him at all during the last day at sea. He didn't eat lunch with me, and when we finally sat down together at dinner, he was distracted by so many people: guests who came by to tell him how much they had enjoyed the cruise and members of the crew and staff who came by with questions.
The night before we were to sail into Boston Harbor, Raymond and Fulton came to see me separately to give me their addresses and get mine. They each promised to write and even visit first chance each had. I was very flattered by their attention. Raymond kissed me on the cheek, pecking it quickly and pulling away, his face red. It was the first time a high-school-age boy had kissed me and I couldn't stop the flutter of butterfly wings under my heart. Fulton just shook my hand, but he kept his shoulders back and his eyes fixed on me as if he wanted to drink in my face and never forget it.
After they left me, I saw to my packing. Daddy told me to leave my bags just inside the suite door and the porters would come by to pick them up while I was having breakfast. Our schedule called for us to dock shortly after breakfast. I was so excited, I had a terrible time falling asleep. I wrote and wrote in this diary until my eyelids drooped, but even after I put out the lights and closed my eyes, I kept thinking about all the things I wanted to tell Momma. I didn't want to forget a thing.
As soon as the first rays of morning light came through my window, I hopped out of bed and took my shower. I wanted to have my breakfast quickly and go out on deck to watch us approach Boston. But after I had gotten dressed and had just finished brushing my hair, I heard a knock on my door. It was Daddy.