Not dripping but still thoroughly wet, Eric let himself into the Commodore’s suite, fully expecting a frosty reception. He had not responded to his beeper immediately, as his uncle always expected him to do. Worse, he had not responded to three separate summons, which he knew the Commodore would consider outright mutiny. He had his explanation ready.
The Commodore and Dudley were seated on the couch. They both gave him a dirty look when he entered the living room. Eric could tell that Dudley was thrilled he was in trouble.
“Uncle Randolph—” he began.
“You look like a drowned rat!” the Commodore barked. “You’re hardly the spit-and-polish appearance I expect of every officer on the Royal Mermaid.” He paused. “As long as I can keep it afloat.”
“Sir, I’m soaked because of my concern for our passengers. I heard people talking about how much fun it would be to sit outside in the storm. I scoured the decks to make sure no one was that crazy. I know how foolish people can be, not realizing how dangerous that is.”
“Did you find anybody?” Dudley asked in a montone, his eyebrows raised.
“Thank God, no,” Eric answered vehemently. “I feel so much better knowing everyone is safe on board. The passageways are empty. Everyone is tucked in for the night, hopefully being rocked to sleep in the comfort of the Royal Mermaid, a protective cradle in this stormy sea.”
The Commodore raised his hand. “I didn’t realize you were that poetic, Eric. Get out of those wet clothes and get back in here. On the double. We have a crisis on our hands.”
“Everyone was warned that it was not safe to go out on deck in the storm. That should have been enough,” Dudley said primly.
In his room, Eric quickly peeled off his clothes and put on a jogging suit. When he returned to the Commodore’s living room, his uncle was staring at the locked glass cabinet on the wall opposite the couch.
“Eric,” the Commodore said, pointing to the cabinet, “I didn’t tell you because I wanted it to be a wonderful surprise. We have an extra passenger on this voyage.”
Eric’s knees turned to water. “An extra passenger? Who?”
“Grandma.”
“Grandma? Grandma died eight years ago.”
“Your grandmother’s ashes,” Dudley injected. “They’re in the silver box in the glass case.”
“Grandma was cremated?” Eric asked, stunned.
“It was her wish to be cremated. In her last hours she told me she knew I would realize my dream to own a cruise ship, and when that happened she wanted me to take her on the first sailing and scatter her ashes at sea.”
“Nobody tells me anything,” Eric complained.
“If you had attended her funeral you would have known,” the Commodore admonished. “My three ex-wives attended. They had great respect for your grandma. Your ex-aunt Beatrice, your ex-aunt Johanna, and your ex-aunt Reeney all sat together, crying their eyes out. When I spoke to Reeney not too long ago, I told her the time had finally come and I was planning to scatter Grandma’s ashes on this maiden cruise. She wanted to join us, but even I have a limit to my patience. Now this cruise has been marred by bad publicity—”
“How do you know?” Eric asked, his heart skipping a beat. “What are people saying about this cruise?”
The Commodore gave him the rundown. “It’s such disrespect to your grandmother’s memory. She did so much good in her life that I thought it would honor her memory to have her final send-off not only from my first cruise but surrounded by good, good, good people. Now, it’s all become a mockery—” The Commodore’s voice cracked, and he reached in his pocket for his handkerchief. “It’s so unfair,” he said, wiping his eyes. “Not a single person is paying to be on this cruise. Not a single one! And everybody’s making fun of me!”
Eric sat down next to his uncle, awkwardly put his arm around him, and was shocked when the Commodore buried his head in his shoulder. “There, there, Uncle Randolph.”
“Grandma doesn’t deserve this. At dinner tomorrow, I was going to make an announcement that my dear mother’s ashes would be lowered to the sea early Wednesday morning on what would have been her ninety-fifth birthday. When Dudley suggested we have this Santa Cruise that is costing me a fortune, the fact that your grandmother’s birthday would fall during the cruise made me realize it was meant to be. I was going to tell our passengers tomorrow night that there would be a brief but moving ceremony in the chapel at dawn, and I would be so touched if anyone joined me. I know, of course, Eric, that you will be at her final send-off. I think you’ve matured in these last eight years. But now, I just don’t know what to do—”
Eric looked over at the glass case. “Hello, Grandma,” he said softly.
Tears flowed from the Commodore’s eyes. “That beautiful woman is in that exquisite silver box. Under lock and key.”
“You were always so protective of her.”
The Commodore nodded. “In life and in death. I’ve heard terrible stories about ashes of the beloved being spilled by careless or clueless parlor maids. That’s why I’ve guarded those ashes with my life.”
“Where did you keep Grandma all these years?”
“Her urn was in a cabinet exactly like this one in my bedroom at home. It is fireproof, waterproof, and theft proof. I haven’t discussed it much. . . . It was too painful. But from me, Grandma gets only loving care.”
Dudley cleared his throat. “Sir, I have been through many crises before and it’s how the situation is handled that is important. For goodness’ sake, I was on a cruise ship that accidentally sailed without any desserts or dessert makings on board. The pastry chef had quit and turned out to be quite spiteful. He canceled the orders for all the flour, chocolate, etc., etc. His last-minute substitute didn’t have the ingredients to whip up so much as a Twinkie. There was a revolt among the passengers, but we turned it into an advantage. We had round-the-clock exercise classes and gave a free cruise to the person who lost the most weight. Someone won by a tenth of a pound.”
Dudley stood and began to pace the room. “I suggest we send out a press release tonight stressing the purity of this cruise, the sweet story of your mother, and the charitable achievements of everyone on board. And if the media can’t understand that, well then they should be ashamed of themselves! You should go ahead with your plans to have the beautiful ceremony for Mother Weed. Tomorrow, another press release will go out hailing the new day and how lucky these freeloaders—I mean guests—are to have spent their first night on the high seas on this beautiful ship.”
The Commodore wiped his eyes and blew his nose. “I’m so blessed to have the two of you. Believe it or not, I miss being married. Your companionship means the world to me.”
Dudley stood. “I will go back to my cabin and work on the first press release.”
“Sir, you should go in and get some sleep,” Eric said to his uncle.
“Eventually. But now I’m going to stretch out on the couch and visit with Grandma. I don’t have much time left with her before she belongs to the sea. . . .”
Inwardly, Eric panicked. He had to go back downstairs to check on Bull’s-Eye and Highbridge. How could he get away?
“Eric, I insist you go in and take a hot shower and get to bed. I can’t have you getting sick. If we’re going to pull ourselves up by the bootstraps and make this cruise a success, we all have to be in top form. Now, say good-night to Grandma. . . .”