They were sitting together on the deck, the dog stretched out beside them, snoring gently. The inky sky was bright with stars and a half-moon that looked as though someone had pinned it up there. The sea rippled silkily, rocking the small boat, and a soft wind rattled in the halyards.
“Have you ever slept on the deck of a boat?” Jack asked.
She turned to look at him. He was lying on his back, his hands under his head, gazing at the stars. “No.”
“It’s the best. It’s just you and the sky and the breeze. When the sun comes up it touches your eyelids, warm as a kiss.”
She rolled over onto her stomach, chin propped in her hand, looking down at him. “It really does that?”
“Yup.”
She rolled back again. “I want the sun to kiss my eyelids,” she sighed. “I want to feel that kiss.”
“And so you shall, Cinderella,” he said, and went off to fetch blankets and pillows. He arranged the pillows under her head, and put the blanket over her, then knelt beside her.
“It was Giselle,” she said. “I’m certain of it. She was jealous of me because of Patrick.”
“More likely she got her friend to do it,” Jack said.
“Don’t go away.” She clutched his hand.
“I’m staying right here.”
“Good,” she whispered, closing her eyes.
When he was sure she was sleeping, Jack walked to the bow. He stared out over the dark sea, worrying about what might happen next.
After a while, he poured himself a brandy, then went back and sat beside Lola. He thought, with that little stab of tenderness again, she looked the way she must have as a child.
He lay down beside her, liking the feel of the breeze on his skin and the familiar slap of the sea on the sloop’s hull. He thought of Sugar and all the girls before her, and of how he’d enjoyed their company a board the Bad Dog. But he had never felt like this before.
He was awake before the sun kissed Lola’s eyelids. He sat up and looked at her in the soft gray light. She was still sleeping. He got up quietly, went down the steps to the cabin, took a quick shower, and put on the coffee. She was just stirring when he came back. The sun was peeking over the horizon and her eyes were still closed, but she was smiling. “I felt it,” she said. “I felt the sun kiss me.”
“How was it?”
“Good. It made me feel…good.”
“Now you know why I like being on a boat.”
She sat up and ran her hands through her tousled hair. “Don’t look at me, I’m a mess,” she said, knowing it was true.
“I’m not looking,” he said. “I’m just the room-service guy.”
Lola looked at the tray he was carrying. A pot of coffee, two mismatched mugs, two boiled eggs propped up in shot glasses, a paper plate with toast, cut into “soldiers” and oozing butter. She looked back up at Jack.
“It’ll make you feel better,” Jack said.
She nodded, smiling. “It will,” she said. “I promise.”