When Love Goes Bad Read online

  I knew I had to get in shape—there would probably be a lot of young, shapely women in bikinis on board, and all of them would have eyes for a good-looking young man like Luis Morales. Luckily I had a little bit of time before we set sail. I decided to make the most of it. I walked a mile a day, rain or shine, and joined a gym.

  Big mistake. I felt like the biggest frump in the world when I walked into the gym in my sweatshirt and baggies, surrounded by prancing, young, nubile girls in spandex and tight-fitting leotards. Watching young men with hairy chests and spectacular physiques work out was a very enjoyable experience, I’ve got to admit, but I did not enjoy standing next to the Pamela Andersons of the fitness world with my sagging, sixty-eight-year-old body. I felt like Whistler’s mother.

  It made me think of the giggling young groupies who waited for Luis outside the dance studio, with their young, lithe bodies. I asked him about them once, when we were talking on the phone. I had never known a dance instructor to have groupies before. He complained that they were such a nuisance, but that he had to be nice to them in case they were related to some of the customers. He claimed he never went home with any of them, but one time, suspicious of the veracity of his statements, I waited a block away in my car at closing time to check it out and watched him climb into a little, giggling blonde’s silver Corvette. I followed them, keeping a respectable distance, almost losing them twice, until they finally screeched to a halt in front of a swanky apartment building and, laughing, went in together, arm in arm.

  I waited until 2 A.M., wishing that I’d brought binoculars, with no sign of the loving couple. Then, at 2:25, I promptly fell asleep. I could have kicked myself when I woke up later, since I had no way of knowing if he was still in there or not. I waited another hour to see if Luis came out, but then I had to leave, overcome by a need that quickly took precedence over everything else. Have you any idea how hard it is to find a rest room at three-thirty in the morning?

  When I mentioned casually at the dance studio the next night that I thought I’d seen him zipping around in a Corvette around midnight the night before, he said, “No, you must be mistaken. I was home all night. I am so sorry I did not call last night, but all I did when I got home from work was—how you say it?—‘saw logs.’”

  “Really?” I said. “I could have sworn it was you.”

  “It must have been my evil twin brother,” he joked.

  I laughed with him, gritting my teeth. Evil twin brother, my foot! I thought furiously.

  Actually, I saw Luis with quite a number of different women. And he always had an explanation. When I ran into him and a young lady at the Sunburst, an upscale restaurant in the heart of the city, he hurried to my table and whispered that he was so glad to see me, gushing that I had brought a brilliant ray of sunshine into his dreary night. He informed me that he was doing a favor for the boss. The poor girl he was with was the boss’s out-of-town niece, he said, and she couldn’t get a date to save her life, so he was roped into escort duties at the last minute. The boss was even picking up the tab, he winked.

  I watched him hurry back to his table. I took a closer look at the girl and shook my head skeptically. His story would be a sight more believable if said “niece” had buckteeth and acne, but she looked like Julia Roberts, for crying out loud!

  When I caught him standing behind a sexy young thing with his arms around her waist, he told me that she’d swallowed a chicken bone and he was performing the Heimlich maneuver. A few days later when I discovered him in a fervent lip lock with a voluptuous brunette, he claimed she’d stopped breathing and he was merely administering mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Give me a break!

  Even I was not that gullible. It was obvious: he was a gigolo, and I was a foolish old woman. Those were the facts of the matter, and I knew it, deep down, but I kept on pretending to myself that I didn’t know it. It hurt too much. Every time I saw him with another woman it twisted a knife in my heart, but I let him believe that I accepted his pitiful excuses, his outlandish explanations. I couldn’t risk losing him.

  It was a hard thing, knowing that I was in competition with younger women whose bodies wouldn’t quit, while mine had given up a long time ago; but with steely determination, I rose to the challenge. I walked the treadmill; I ate nothing but watercress sandwiches for two weeks in preparation for the cruise. And at the end of it all, I stepped expectantly onto the scale, and my jaw dropped: I had gained a pound! I knew then and there that it’s true what they say: There is no justice in the world.

  Since I couldn’t lose any weight, I bought a slinky, black bathing suit that was “guaranteed” to make me look ten pounds thinner—at least according to the gushing saleslady. It didn’t look half bad, I conceded, surveying myself critically in the mirror from all angles. Maybe I can give the young, female, shipboard cuties a run for their money, after all, I thought proudly.

  I also packed my new, purple, spangly shirt with matching purple pants, my gigantic jar of industrial-strength wrinkle remover, and my new, pink, net ball gown with the jeweled bodice. I couldn’t wait to see Luis’s eyes when he saw me in it. I wondered if he would make the connection: pink net ball gown—ballerina? Of course he will, I assured myself. He was very sensitive to that kind of thing. We were so in tune with each other. When I’d tried it on in the Sophisticated Woman boutique, I’d stared at the mirror in amazement. It was my childhood dream, come true.

  Early Saturday morning, in a thrill of anticipation, a small group of us from the Starry Night Dance Studio boarded the ship: Lois, who was a Golden Girl and thus covered for the trip through hellacious fees; myself, a newly accepted Silver Belle and also covered for the trip through slightly-less-but-still-hellacious fees; and Diane and Sheila, who had decided to join us at the last minute and had paid their own way. Some other Golden Girls and Silver Belles were already on board. We joined them on deck.

  I looked around. I didn’t see Gina anywhere. Maybe she wasn’t coming, I thought hopefully. Unfortunately, that hope was dashed when I saw her wave gaily to us, rushing breathlessly up the gangplank at the last minute.

  The ship was truly magnificent. The cruise promised to be a grand, gala affair, even if I did have to put up with Gina, who thrust me aside to get a better position for waving to the crowd from the promenade deck. At least it was a big boat, I reasoned, determined not to let her spoil my good time.

  As a burst of confetti was showered on us from above, we waved enthusiastically to the crowd below. A blast of the foghorn, and we were off.

  Lois and I were rooming together in an elegant stateroom decorated in tones of turquoise and peach. A knock sounded at the door. Expecting Luis, I rushed to apply a fresh coat of lipstick, but as it turned out, I needn’t have bothered. It was Fabian, coming to pick up Lois. I asked him if he’d seen Luis, and he replied that Luis was on deck, working out the itinerary for the cruise.

  Lois and Fabian headed for the lounge, and I strolled out on deck. It was a glorious day, sunshine streaming out over the endless, cool, blue water. I’d donned my cornflower-blue sundress with the spaghetti straps and white sandals, along with a wide-brimmed straw hat. I thought I looked quite jaunty.

  I looked around for Luis, finally spotting him in a cozy huddle with Mitzy, the cruise director. Well, Fabian said that Luis was figuring out the itinerary, I reminded myself. But did he have to get so close, and did she have to be so young and pretty?

  Luis looked up, saw me, and waved. “Elsa, I will be with you in a moment,” he said, flashing me a brilliant smile.

  “That’s all right, go ahead with what you’re doing. I’ll just take a little stroll.”

  “I’ll join you as soon as I can,” he promised.

  He turned his attention back to Mitzy. I trudged on, dejected.

  “Is that your grandmother?” I heard her ask him.

  I didn’t wait to hear his answer. I hurried on, blinking back the tears. I wanted to slap that smug smile right off her pretty, young face.

  I
waited for Luis at the pool later that afternoon, disconsolately splashing in the water. Luis never had joined me on deck. In fact, I hadn’t seen much of Luis all that day, save for a few minutes at lunch when he’d rushed in, grabbed a few bites of crab salad, downed a mai tai, and left me with the check. So much for his promise that we’d “spend a lot of time together” on the cruise.

  He’d finally called about three-thirty, promising to meet me at the pool in an hour. Now, it was already five o’clock, with no sign of Luis. I was wearing my new “ten-pounds-thinner” black bathing suit, but the man I’d bought it for wasn’t even around to see it.

  Oh, great, that’s all I need! I thought as a familiar figure appeared at the edge of the pool. I quickly ducked underwater, but it was too late: Gina had seen me. When I came up for air—an unfortunate necessity—she was wading toward me in the water, stuffed into a baby-blue, skirted swimsuit that was at least two sizes too small for her. I was happy to see that while I hadn’t managed to lose any weight, at least she hadn’t, either. In fact, it looked like she might have gained ten pounds. Gina D’Angelo, the baby-blue whale, I thought gleefully, then immediately chastised myself for my meanness.

  “Where’s Luis?” she asked, scanning the horizon.

  “Oh, he’s getting some tanning lotion for me,” I said airily, not wanting to admit that I had no idea. “He’ll be back any minute now.”

  “Well, when you see him, tell him that my suite is quite comfortable, thank you,” Gina instructed, dog paddling to keep her head above water. “I’m in number 218.” She paused significantly, raising her eyebrows. “He wanted to know.”

  I dove underwater, fuming. When I came back up, she was mercifully gone. Maybe calling her a whale wasn’t so mean, after all, I reflected angrily. I had a few more choice epithets to call her, and they were a lot stronger than that.

  I swam a few more laps in the pool, but it was decidedly lonely, being surrounded by gorgeous young women in skimpy bikinis, and muscle-bound hunks who didn’t give me a second glance, and blissful couples on their honeymoons. I wondered where my friends were. Lois, of course, was with Fabian. Diane and Sheila were probably with their dance instructors, as well, having the time of their lives.

  For the thousandth time that day, I wondered: Where is Luis?

  It was getting later—and colder. I was just getting out of the pool when I heard a familiar voice coming from the concession stand. I looked over to see Luis surrounded by a bevy of bikini-clad beauties, laughing and talking. I strutted past, head held high, acting like I didn’t see him.

  I heard footsteps running up behind me. “Elsa, I have been looking all over for you,” Luis said breathlessly. “I missed you.”

  “I could tell,” I said dryly.

  “What, those women over there?” He waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal. “They mean nothing to me, my sweet, jealous baby,” he teased.

  I smiled in spite of myself. I couldn’t help it. I could forgive him anything when he talked to me like that.

  Luis noticed my black swimsuit and let out a low wolf whistle. “Stunning,” he murmured.

  I blushed.

  “Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the luau tonight?” he asked, bowing low.

  The luau! I thought dreamily. Is that tonight? I had been so upset all day that I’d forgotten all about it. I had been looking forward to the luau ever since I’d seen it advertised in the brochure.

  “Please?” Luis begged. “Pretty please, with sugar on top?”

  “Well. . . .” In spite of myself, I felt my anger diminish somewhat. Luis did seem apologetic. And I couldn’t stay mad at him for long. “Yes, that would be wonderful,” I finally accepted. Maybe this miserable day can be rescued after all, I thought hopefully.

  “Great!” Luis said. “I’ve got some things to take care of, so I’ll meet you there around seven.”

  I got ready in record time. Surveying myself in the full-length mirror, I concluded with satisfaction that I looked very elegant in my new outfit: a white, tailored jacket with rhinestone buttons over a wine-colored blouse, and a white pair of palazzo pants. White heels, gold hoop earrings, and my favorite diamond bracelet completed the ensemble. I gazed at the bracelet fondly. Harold had given it to me on my sixtieth birthday.

  Around six-forty-five, I joined the Starry Night “girls” and their escorts at a big, round table near the main stage. At the entrance, hula girls hung leis around all of the partygoers’ necks. I was a bit early, I explained to the others. Luis was not supposed to be there till seven. The others decided to go through the buffet line and asked if I wanted to join them, but I declined, saying that I’d wait for Luis.

  Gina was there without an escort, claiming that she preferred to go stag so that she could have her choice of dance partners. I decided that I would not lord it over her too much, since I had a date and she didn’t; but I must admit I felt a bit smug when she learned to her chagrin that Luis was my escort for the evening.

  I wasn’t really too worried when Luis did not appear at seven. He had a tendency to run late. When seven-thirty rolled around, however, I’ll admit that I was a bit miffed, especially when Gina asked the group pointedly what time it was.

  “He’ll show up,” she said, patting me on the shoulder in mock sympathy. “I know he will.” I seethed inwardly, thankful when she went off to dance with the ship’s purser.

  “You really might want to get a bite to eat,” Sheila urged. “It’s delicious.”

  I looked longingly at her plate, piled high with island delicacies. “No, I’ll wait for Luis,” I insisted stubbornly.

  Diane and Sheila exchanged glances.

  The luau was an extravagant affair with a sumptuous buffet featuring all varieties of seafood. White cloth napkins encircled with turquoise sea horse napkin rings were at each place setting. Conch shells lay on each table. Fabian blew into our conch shell and Lois laughed uproariously. A Don Ho look-alike strolled around the room, singing and strumming his ukulele while a group of Polynesian dancers performed on the tiny stage.

  It was quite an extravaganza, and ordinarily I would have enjoyed it immensely, but as time wore on and Luis still didn’t show up, I started to feel sick. I stole a glance at the clock. Eight-fifteen.

  After they’d finished their meal, Lois got up to dance with Fabian, leaving me sitting alone with Diane and Sheila. I couldn’t stand the pity in their eyes.

  Come on, Luis, I prayed silently, resolutely not looking at the door. I didn’t want Diane and Sheila to know how concerned I really was. “That Luis, always running late,” I said lightly. “I’ll have to give him a good talking-to when he gets here.”

  They nodded politely.

  Gina glided past, now in the arms of the ship’s captain. “Luis’s still not here?” she commented loudly.

  I glared at her. “I think I’ll try some of that buffet, after all,” I said to Diane and Sheila. There’s no use missing a good meal just because Luis hasn’t gotten here yet, I reasoned to myself. Besides, maybe it will settle my stomach.

  “I’ll go with you,” Diane offered. “I’d like seconds on those shish kebabs.”

  I took a little of everything: pasta salad, teriyaki chicken, crab, shrimp. There was even a pig roasting in a makeshift oven, tended to by a couple of “natives.” Diane urged me to try the poi, a dish made from cooked taro root, and the haupia, a type of coconut pudding. I’m sure that under normal circumstances, everything would have been delicious, but right then, everything tasted like paste to me. I had lost my appetite.

  It got later and later. I acted like Luis’s absence didn’t bother me, laughing gaily at everybody’s jokes, but my laughter rang hollowly even in my own ears. Eight-forty-five . . . nine o’clock . . . quarter to ten. Even I had to admit the obvious: I had been stood up.

  Gina sashayed past with the ship’s doctor. “You mean he isn’t here yet?” she trilled, shaking her head and looking like the cat that ate the canary. “He’d better hu
rry soon, or the luau will be over.”

  I gritted my teeth. It was all I could do to keep from strangling her on the spot.

  It was almost ten when I heard my name being called over the loudspeaker. I wondered, piqued, if it was Luis, calling with some lame excuse for standing me up.

  I went to the phone by the bar. It was hard to hear over all the hubbub. Everybody else was having quite a night.

  “Elsa? It’s Luis. . . .”

  “Luis, where are you?” I asked, a note of irritation creeping into my voice. “You were supposed to be here hours ago.”

  “I am in—how you say?—sick bay.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. I am so sorry about tonight, but an old man . . . he had an attack of some sort. Dr. Hill says that I saved the old man’s life. He called me a hero.”

  “Oh . . . well, that’s wonderful. . . .” I said wearily, trying to muster up some enthusiasm. He had saved an old man’s life, after all.

  If it’s true.

  Then I felt ashamed for doubting Luis’s sincerity. Maybe Luis stretched the truth sometimes, but he wouldn’t make up something like this.

  “I want to stay here a little longer, to make sure the gentleman is all right. Dr. Hill is almost through with his examination. Do you mind?”

  “Of course not,” I lied, hiding my disappointment. I guess it doesn’t matter now, anyway, I thought sadly. The luau was almost over.

  “I could come if you need me.”

  “No, I’m fine. You see to the man and then you get some rest. You need it after all your heroics.”

  “Thank you for understanding,” Luis said. “I’ll make it up to you, my darling.”

  How many times have I heard that one? “I’ll hold you to that.”

  “Good night, princess. I’ll see you tomorrow. And I am so sorry about tonight.”

  “Well, I guess it couldn’t be helped. Lifesaving does take precedence over everything else,” I kidded.

  We said our good-byes. I was glad to get off the phone; I was definitely not feeling as lighthearted as I pretended to be.