At the insistence of their mother, Fredericka and Gwendolyn had gone for a swim in the pool. “A sound mind in a sound body,” Eldona trilled as she sat at the water’s edge, her feet dangling in the pool, two pages of next year’s Christmas newsletter already written. “Here we are on the maiden voyage of the Royal Mermaid, and the kindliness of my girls is already the talk of the ship. . . .”
When the girls had finished their required laps, they had a water fight, which succeeded in splashing people sunning in deck chairs around the pool. “The energy of the young gladdens the heart,” Eldona continued as she wiped her glasses.
Word of the Commodore’s mother’s service was being spread by the stewards who were already serving Bloody Marys and Margaritas. Needless to say, Fredericka and Gwendolyn got wind of the impending ceremony. They climbed out of the pool.
“Mommy,” Fredericka said breathlessly. “Did you hear about the sunset service?”
“Yes, dear. And you may attend. It will be very beautiful.”
“Maybe we can sing at it, like we do in church.”
Eldona’s eyes glistened with tenderness. “What a lovely idea. I think the Commodore would appreciate that. But you should make sure. Why don’t you run and put on a play outfit and ask him yourselves?”
“Yeaaaahhhhhhhhh.” The two girls clapped hands and jumped up and down. “Where did Daddy go? Let’s tell Daddy!”
“Over there in the corner,” Eldona pointed to her husband, who was sprawled on a lounge chair, a magazine covering his face. “He moved to the shade. You know how careful he is of his health. He’ll be so happy to hear about your thoughtfulness.”
“I’ve got a better idea, Mommy. Let’s make it a surprise for him when we sing tonight.”
“Whatever you want, darlings. Run along now.”
* * *
The Commodore and Ivy were on their third cup of English Breakfast tea. He had tenderly placed the silver chest with his mother’s ashes on the coffee table. When Winston brought in the tray with the teapot, strainer, cups, and saucers, he had set it on the table, then started to pick up the box. The Commodore had sternly reprimanded him. “That is only for my hands, Winston. Leave it there. Mother always enjoyed a cup of tea.”
“My mother loves tea, too,” Ivy said. It was a thrill to be in the Commodore’s suite. When she first met him, she had been intimidated. He was such an imposing, rugged manly man. The kind of man her mother would call “a fine, big fellow.” But sitting talking to Commodore Weed made her realize that he was a real softie inside, that like so many people, he was someone who wanted to be loved.
Now, as the Commodore refilled her cup, he said, “Ivy, as I told you in the chapel, you make me feel so good about this cruise.” He laughed. “I had three ex-wives who married me for what they perceived I could give them. My last wife, Reeney, and I are actually still quite friendly—”
Ivy felt a pang of jealousy.
“—but we just couldn’t agree on so many things. She wanted to go antiquing all the time. She fancied she had an eye for value, which I can assure you she did not. But the worst thing was she hated boating—”
“I love boating,” Ivy cried.
“Me, too. But Reeney helped with a lot of things, I must admit. She’s a great organizer. She helped me decorate the house in Miami that I bought after our divorce. She even helped me find Winston. She told me I didn’t need another wife, I needed a butler. Someone who wanted to take care of me.”
Ivy had to clamp her lips together to keep from blurting out, “I’d love to take care of you!”
“You say you’ve never been married, Ivy?” the Commodore asked her, a tone of wonder in his voice, unconsciously calling her by her first name. “An attractive lady like you?”
Ivy felt a warm glow. She was having such a wonderful time! She didn’t want it to end. She started to murmur, “Ohhhhh, thank you,” when a loud banging at the door startled them both.
“What now?” the Commodore asked, as he got up and impatiently crossed the room and opened the door.
Fredericka and Gwendolyn curtseyed to him. “Good morning, Commodore Weed.” Without being invited, they dashed past him into the room. “Good morning, Ma’am,” they said to Ivy, curtseying again.
“Hello, girls,” Ivy said, thinking the curtsey was the ultimate irony since the two of them had forced their way in.
“Ohhh, how pretty,” Fredericka said as she reached to pick up the silver chest.
Ivy was too quick for her. Her hand clamped over it. “That’s the Commodore’s,” she said firmly.
The Commodore had almost passed out at the sight of his mother’s ashes being jostled by this pushy child. “What can I do for you girls?” he asked, trying to conceal his feelings.
“We heard about the special service for your Mommy tonight. We’d love to sing a special song,” Fredericka explained.
“We’re in the children’s choir at home,” Gwendolyn chimed in.
God help me, the Commodore thought.
“There’s a song that we learned in school that we thought would be perfect. We just changed one word. ‘My Mommy lies over the ocean! My Mommy lies over the sea . . .”
Ivy watched them in disbelief.
“Thank you,” the Commodore said. “That would be very nice. Perhaps at the end of the service. Now go practice,” he said, his voice husky.
“Goody!” they cried. “We’ll tell everyone on the ship they have to come!” They ran out the door.
Gwendolyn turned to Fredericka. “Now let’s go see how Uncle Harry is. We’ll tell him about the service. We can reserve a seat for him and help him get to the deck. I’m sure he won’t want to miss it.”