Web of Dreams (Casteel 5)

He was waiting for me on deck. Suddenly I felt all quivery over how I would look to him, but he took one glance at me and smiled widely, his eyes brightening just the way they often did when Momma appeared all dressed up to go to a gala or to a fancy restaurant.

"Do I look all right?" I could almost hear Momma whispering behind me: "It's all right to fish for compliments, Leigh. A woman should sound a little insecure, no matter how sure of herself she might be."

"You look gorgeous, Princess." He turned to his right. "We have the prettiest date in Jamaica tonight," he declared to Captain Willshaw.

"No question about that," Captain Willshaw said, stepping forward. I had been so anxious about how I looked to Daddy when he first saw me that I hadn't even noticed the captain standing on the sidelines.

I couldn't help my look of confusion, nor my look of disappointment when Daddy added, "The captain has recommended what he has found to be the best restaurant in Jamaica, and he has agreed to join us for dinner, Leigh. Isn't that nice?"

"Join us for dinner? Oh. Yes."

But Daddy, I thought, what happened to our private date? Don't you understand what is in my heart of hearts? Couldn't you see that I needed you and you alone with me tonight? What happened to what was supposed to be our wonderful night in Jamaica when we would comfort each other and grow closer to each other? Oh, I had so many private and personal things to tell him. I wanted to tell him about Fulton and Raymond and about Tatterton Toys and what I had bought for Momma. I wanted to tell him how I was pl

anning to try harder not to displease her and do things that would cause them to fight.

Mostly, I wanted him to look at me and be reminded of her and then I wanted to hear him tell me how much he missed her and needed her. I hoped to have him tell me about their first days together when their romance was intense and true, the way I hoped love would be for me someday.

We would walk hand in hand through the Jamaican night after dinner and feel happy again under the stars.

But instead, Daddy and Captain Willshaw talked about the cruise. They went through it all, endlessly evaluating each and every day, each and every event, reviewing what they would change, what they would improve or increase. I listened politely. Normally I might have been interested but tonight I had wanted my father to treat me like a woman. I was bored and terribly unhappy. Even though the food was delicious, I lost my appetite and had to force myself to eat, but Daddy didn't seem to notice.

We had to return to the ship immediately after dinner because it was the last night in Jamaica and there was a show and a ball planned. I told Daddy I had to go to my suite for a while and I would meet him later.

"Just like your mother, you've got to go powder your nose, eh, Princess?" he asked. He winked at the captain.

"Yes Daddy," I said, my eyes down. I felt two small tears in the corners of my eyes. They lingered without falling.

"You all right? That food wasn't too spicy, was it? You're not overtired, are you?" he asked, his voice filled with fatherly concern.

"No Daddy." I had to bite the inside of my mouth to keep from crying or screaming. Why was he talking to me as if I were a little girl again? Why couldn't he see what was really wrong? Were men simply insensitive to the things women felt? I had so many questions running through my mind, questions that I guess only another woman could answer.

When I entered my suite, I felt so letdown and alone that all I could do was sit on the bed and cry. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror--my hair brushed and shining, my beautiful clothing, Momma's jewelry and my evenly tanned face now changed by sadness and tears. I thought I looked pathetic and ridiculous, like some little girl trying to imitate her mother. I had hoped that when Daddy set eyes on me and had inhaled Momma's jasmine perfume, he would have lost himself in the memories of her and be soft and precious with me. But none of that had happened.

Never had I felt I needed Momma more. I wanted her to tell me what she felt like when she had dressed herself up and not dazzled a man the way she had planned to. What could I do? I couldn't talk intimately with anyone on this ship, certainly not the Spenser sisters, or someone else's mother.

How horrible it must be for a real orphan, I thought, never to have anyone you trust and who loves you and will not laugh at you when you told her your deepest, most heartfelt feelings. Tonight, I felt like an orphan, cast out on the sea, floating aimlessly about, lost in the waves to be tossed here and there with no one to hear my cries.

I wiped my tear-streaked face and looked at myself in the mirror. Maybe Daddy and I would have our private chat in a day or so on the way home. Maybe it was very hard for him to talk about these things and he was deliberately finding ways to avoid talking about them. He had so much on his mind, so much responsibility and worry, and didn't need me to add to the list. I would have to be more understanding and more patient, I thought. I straightened up.

"No one cares about someone who is pathetic and weak," Momma once told me. "Pity is the most degrading emotion. Even if you are upset, don't give anyone the satisfaction of knowing it. It makes them feel superior."

"All right, Momma," I whispered, as if she were here in my suite beside me, "I'll do what I must do. No one will know my secret, sad thoughts. I'll do it for Daddy and I'll do it for you, and I'll do it for myself."

I stood up with determination, but in my secret, putaway heart I knew that when I returned to my suite at the end of the evening and crawled under the covers and put out the lights, I would sob like a baby in the darkness until I cried myself asleep.

The journey home seemed so much longer because I was so anxious to get there to see Momma and to see Momma greet Daddy. I got down on my knees every night and prayed that she would be less angry with him. I did a lot of reading and worked on my lessons with my tutor, Mr. Abrams. I played chess with Raymond and Fulton and went to the movies and shows with them and spent time with the Spenser sisters. Daddy seemed busier than ever. I barely caught a glimpse of him at all during the last day at sea. He didn't eat lunch with me, and when we finally sat down together at dinner, he was distracted by so many people: guests who came by to tell him how much they had enjoyed the cruise and members of the crew and staff who came by with questions.

The night before we were to sail into Boston Harbor, Raymond and Fulton came to see me separately to give me their addresses and get mine. They each promised to write and even visit first chance each had. I was very flattered by their attention. Raymond kissed me on the cheek, pecking it quickly and pulling away, his face red. It was the first time a high-school-age boy had kissed me and I couldn't stop the flutter of butterfly wings under my heart. Fulton just shook my hand, but he kept his shoulders back and his eyes fixed on me as if he wanted to drink in my face and never forget it.

After they left me, I saw to my packing. Daddy told me to leave my bags just inside the suite door and the porters would come by to pick them up while I was having breakfast. Our schedule called for us to dock shortly after breakfast. I was so excited, I had a terrible time falling asleep. I wrote and wrote in this diary until my eyelids drooped, but even after I put out the lights and closed my eyes, I kept thinking about all the things I wanted to tell Momma. I didn't want to forget a thing.

As soon as the first rays of morning light came through my window, I hopped out of bed and took my shower. I wanted to have my breakfast quickly and go out on deck to watch us approach Boston. But after I had gotten dressed and had just finished brushing my hair, I heard a knock on my door. It was Daddy.

He was dressed in his dark suit, but he didn't look as handsome as he usually did. He looked like he had been up all night and had gotten dressed in the dark. His tie knot was not tied tightly and his suit jacket looked wrinkled. His hair looked a little bit mussed.

"Good morning, Princess," he said softly. My heart began to pitter-patter. He looked so sad; his face was as gray as his hair.

"Morning, Daddy. Isn't everything on