Never Too Late (7 page)

"Pushing
forty-five then," Jerry said. "At least I find her attractive."

Lillian
Danforth smiled. "So does that tall young Italian I saw her with earlier,
which, I assume, was what prompted the disagreement."

Jerry eyed
Andrea, and said, "She got a little testy when I brought it up. But I was
warning her about gigolos. An attractive older woman travelling alone is a
prime target."

"Yes, I
imagine she is," Lillian replied. "I'm sure Andrea is aware of it
though." She looked at Andrea and waited.

Andrea laughed
lightly. "I have my
Frommer's Guide
along," she said. "I know all about gigolos and purse snatchers and
walking alone at night, and all the other dangers lurking out there, so there's
no reason for anyone to worry." She shot one last glare at Jerry, who gave
a little grunt of disgust before stabbing a cherry tomato in his salad.

The Danforths
took their places at the table and ordered their meals, and while everyone ate,
the subject of shipboard relationships never came up again, the conversation
jockeying between Edward Danforth's years in the Army, and Charlie Danforth's
memories of growing up as an Army brat. Fond memories, it seemed. Their waiter
had just cleared the first course, when the Danforth's son, Ned, turned to his
father, and said, "Dad, when we dock in Nassau the Robinsons are going
snorkeling and Jimmy asked if I could go with them. Can I?"

Charlie Danforth
hesitated for a moment, then glanced at his son, and replied, "We don't
know the Robinsons, so no. Not this time."

Ned looked at
his mother. "Mom, talk to Dad. Get him to let me go."

"You heard
your father, Ned. The answer is no."

Ned, seeming to
drop the subject, continued eating.

Andrea sat
silently watching the boy, but she could almost feel Jerry's response to the
interchange between the boy and his parents. Bafflement. Just as she was
feeling. With Scott, there would have been an exhausting argument, and if he
didn't get his way he'd play one parent against the other. Invariably, one of
them would cave, and Scott would put that victory in his arsenal of parental
manipulations to use during the next confrontation.

Ned never
brought up the subject of snorkeling again, but as soon as they were finished
desert, he asked to be excused. After he'd gone, Andrea said to the Danforths,
"Your son is so well-behaved. You must be very proud of him."

Lillian
laughed. "He's a work in progress. And yes, he's pretty much the focus of
our lives. As you must have noticed, we're on the old side to have a
fourteen-year-old boy. After we'd tried every fertility drug on the market, and
followed all the usual... methods, the doctor told us to stop spending our time
trying to get pregnant and find a place to just relax and enjoy each other. Two
days later we flew to a resort in Nassau, spent six days beachcombing and
snorkeling, and being with each other and remembering what it was like when we
just let things happen, and it worked. Nine months later, Ned was born."

"But he
doesn't seem in the least bit spoiled," Andrea said, wondering if there
was another side to the boy, a side he hid when in public. "He accepted
your refusal to let him go snorkeling with his friend without question."

Lillian
laughed. "He knows better than to try. Charlie and I vowed when I finally
got pregnant that no matter how much we might disagree on how to handle our
child when issues came up, we'd always present a united front to him."

"But what
if you'd disagreed with Charlie earlier?" Andrea asked.

Lillian
laughed. "Charlie already knew I agreed with him. We have this signal
system with nudging and blinking. One nudge or blink means
I agree completely
, two means
absolutely
not
, and three means
let's talk about
it and let him know later
. We've been using it since Ned was old enough to
understand that what Mommy and Daddy says goes." She looked at her husband
and smiled. "Believe
me
, Charlie and I have
disagreed many times behind the scenes, and Charlie's had to give in to me as
much as I've had to give in to him. But when Ned gets his answer from us, or is
given his punishment for bad behavior, Charlie and I always appear to be in
agreement."

Charlie tipped
his wine glass toward his father, who was smiling at him. "That guy across
the table from you showed me the way," he said, affectionately. "He
and my mother were a formidable pair when they said no. Thanks, Dad."

The old man
beamed. "Your mother would have been proud to hear you say that."

***

Alone in the
honeymoon suite that night, Jerry lay stretched on the bed, his mind divided
between what might be going on in Alessandro Cavallaro's stateroom, and the
exchange at the table with the Danforths earlier. At the moment, he was mulling
over the Danforths and their handling of their son. Mistakes he and Andrea made
with Scott were becoming clear for the first time in years. Eighteen years too
late. Scott had been difficult from the start—colicky and fretful as an infant,
prone to tantrums as a toddler, manipulative and controlling as a teenager. But
the one thing his parents were consistent about throughout the whole challenge
of raising him was that they never seemed to agree on what to do with him.
What's more, they never presented a united front. Scott would play one against
the other until he got his way...

A rapping on
the door had him quick to open it, suspecting it might be Andrea, who would
have also been mulling over the Danforth's exchange at the table and wanted to
talk about it. But to his annoyance, he found Val standing in the doorway.

"Hi there,
sugar pie," she said, slipping past him. "I've come prepared this
time." She turned to him and held up a little red foil packet, then
dropped it on the bedstand. "It's my favorite flavor. Wild Cherry."

"Look,
about last night—"

"What
happened last night is nothing to be embarrassed about, sugar dumpling,"
Val said. "Many men your age have failures. But I guarantee we can fix it.
That's what sugar babies are for. To be your companion, your helpmate, and your
lover." She slipped her arms around his neck and said, "I'm going to
fire up your engine and have your piston back in working order before the
night's
done."

Jerry pulled
her arms from around his neck. "You don't need to fix anything—"

"What I
saw last night definitely needs fixing, honey bun." In one practiced
sweep, Val slipped off her tee shirt and tossed it on the bed then stood in
front of him in a red lace half-bra that came across to him as more of a
serving platter than a support garment, and what she was offering simply didn't
interest him. "Put it back on," he said.

Val looked at
him, perplexed. When she did nothing, Jerry snatched up her shirt and held it
out. "I said, put it back on." While she stood looking at him, as if
at a loss what to do, he said, "How old are you?"

Val smiled in
relief and tossed the shirt back on the bed. "If that's what's worrying
you, I'm of age," she assured him. "Twenty-two to be exact." She
stretched out on the bed like a languorous lioness and patted the bed beside her,
and when he made no move, she tucked her fingers into the waistband of his
sweat pants and tugged.

Jerry grabbed
her wrist. "You're the same age as my middle daughter," he said.

Val gave him a
wry smile. "Does she like older men too?"

"You're
through here," Jerry snapped. He grabbed her hand and pulled her upright,
then snatched the shirt from the bed and shoved it against her chest. "Put
it on and go find another sugar daddy because I'm not interested." He
opened the door for her to leave.

Val was in the
process of tugging the shirt over her head when Andrea appeared in the doorway.
By the time Val's head popped through the head hole, she was already heading
down the passageway and had not seen Andrea, who'd slipped into Jerry's
stateroom unnoticed.

Andrea eyed the
bed, which looked
mussed,
and said with irony, "I
didn't mean to interrupt anything, but you and I have a date tomorrow. It is
our anniversary, in case you've forgotten."

"I haven't
forgotten," Jerry grumbled, "but I don't remember any plans."

"That's
because there weren't any until the steward handed me this fax a few minutes
ago. It's from the girls." She handed the paper to Jerry. While he read
the message informing them that when the ship docked in Nassau, a horse and
buggy would be waiting at the docks to take them to a special place, then to a
restaurant where they'd have a romantic dinner, Andrea lifted the condom from
the table and read the writing on the red-foil wrapping. "Wild
cherry," she mused. "I would have thought Val more the cinnamon
type." Jerry went to grab the condom, but Andrea snatched it out of reach.

She gave him a
cynical smile. "At least you're being responsible,
sugar pie
. You'd have a hard time explaining to our daughters how
you managed to get some bimbo pregnant while on a cruise they'd given us as an
anniversary gift, not to mention the awkwardness of presenting them with a
sibling younger than our grandkids."

Jerry snatched
the foil packet from her. "I'm not even going to respond to that," he
said. "What happens in here is none of your damn business." He yanked
open the drawer to the bedstand, tossed the packet inside and shoved the drawer
closed.

"Actually
I don't care what goes on in here," Andrea said. "If it were up to me
I'd suggest that
either you and
your sugar baby go to
the romantic restaurant, or Alessandro and I go. But since it will be our
twenty-fifth
anniversary,
and the girls expect us to
spend it with each other, out of respect for them and all the trouble they've
gone to, I say we call a truce for a few hours and bear it out. As soon as it's
over we can go our separate ways. I, for one, have plans afterwards, as I'm
sure you do too."

Jerry stared at
the fax. For twenty-five years he'd been faithful to Andrea. Never once had he
strayed. He'd checked out women from a distance, on occasion, and in the past
year found himself fantasizing about how a particular woman might be in bed, but
until boarding the ship, it had never occurred to him to strip naked with any
woman but Andrea. Yet, last night, he'd shed his clothes and stretched out in
bed while Val stood in front of him, peeling off each piece of clothing with
the skill of a seasoned stripper. But when everything was go, he couldn't do
it. "I suppose we'll have to go through with this dinner thing then,"
he said begrudgingly.

"Unfortunately,
you're right," Andrea replied. "And we're supposed to
dress-to-please. The girls were specific about that. So thinking ahead of the
evening, wear something that will make Val horny." She smiled. "I
know
exactly
what I'm going to wear.
It will drive Alessandro to distraction."

Jerry knew then
that Andrea planned to wear the one dress that used to drive
him
to distraction, and he wondered how
he'd handle it, knowing she'd be going straight from dinner with him to her Italian
stud. It was going to be one hell of a long evening.

***

What caught
Andrea's attention, as the ship cruised along Cable Beach at the west end of
New Providence Island on its way to Prince George Wharf, where they'd be
docking, was the luxury resorts and glitzy casinos lining the beach. Nassau was
the hub of activity in the Bahamas, with its shops and restaurants and dance
clubs. But none of that interested her now. Five years ago she and Jerry would
have strolled through the streets of Nassau, hand-in-hand, while browsing the
straw market and the bazaar, or they might have rented mopeds to tour the
island. But all she wanted now was to get through the afternoon and evening
with Jerry, and return to the ship, where Alessandro would be waiting for her.

The ship pulled
into Nassau in early afternoon, and after being cleared by customs, passengers
were free to tour Nassau and New Providence Island. But a couple of hours
before setting out with Jerry, Andrea decided to come clean with Alessandro
about Jerry and the divorce, and tell him about their anniversary dinner.
Alessandro had been clearly disappointed that she wouldn't be joining him for
dinner in his stateroom because he'd ordered a meal that included lobster
thermidor. But he was also sweet and understanding, and settled for
after-dinner drinks and watching a late night movie on the TV in his stateroom.
And cuddling a little, he'd informed her in his lovely Italian accent. Nothing
more. Which emboldened Andrea to want to do more, especially since Jerry would
be with Val.

She rummaged
through the bag with the gifts she'd purchased from the novelty shop on C Deck
and pulled out the octopus briefs. She still didn't know what possessed her buy
them. She wouldn't be giving them to Jerry, and Alessandro was far too reserved
to cavort around like Jerry would. But maybe lovemaking wasn't intended to be
fun. Maybe it was supposed to be the joining of two people, while also the
joining of two souls. Although she'd felt that with Jerry, it had still been
fun, and funny, and exciting, until their heightened senses turned to
passion...

She sighed,
pulled open a dresser drawer and tucked the briefs under her clothes. She
didn't want Val to see them and maybe want to give them to Jerry. The thought
of him prancing around for another woman was troubling. Everything was still
too new.

Two hours
later, Andrea slipped into her green and tan sundress and put on a pair of tan
stiletto heels she'd purchased, along with a matching handbag, from one of the
specialty shops on the ship. She'd had her hair styled at the ship's beauty
parlor—trimmed, feathered, and moussed. Her father would be pleased. Just as
he'd be pleased when he learned she and Jerry would be calling it quits.