Chapter 4 - The Buffet Confrontation
Vanessa’s voice went up an octave.
“You... you kept the penthouse? For yourself?!”
“I paid for it,” I replied calmly. “Why wouldn't I keep it?”
Dad’s face turned a dangerous shade of purple. “Do you have any idea what we’ve been through for the past twenty-four hours, Millie? Our rooms are closets! We have no windows! The floor vibrates all night because we are next to the damn engine room!”
“Oh, I know,” I said, picking up another grape. “I picked them out myself.”
Mom gasped, clutching her chest as if she had been physically struck. “You did this? Your own family? How could you be so cruel, Millie?”
I looked at my mother. The woman who had sent me one text to uninvite me from a $21,000 gift.
“Cruel?” I echoed, my voice steady, carrying over the hum of the busy buffet. “Cruel is telling the person who funded your dream vacation that they aren't considered family anymore. Cruel is locking me out of a trip I worked six months to afford.”
“It was just a misunderstanding!” Mom lied, her eyes darting around as other passengers began to stare. “Dad just wanted some... some quiet time with the nuclear family. Without all your work stress!”
“I see,” I smiled tightly. “Well, now you have plenty of quiet time. Down in the windowless hull.”
Vanessa slammed her hands on her hips. “You need to fix this right now, Millie! We tried to get drinks at the bar and they told us our premium package was canceled! We tried to log onto the Wi-Fi and it’s gone! Brandon and I have a snorkeling excursion tomorrow and the desk said it was refunded!”
“It was,” I nodded. “To my credit card.”
“Give it back!” she shrieked. “Call the front desk and give us our packages back!”
“No.”
The single word hung in the air.
No one in my family had ever heard me say that word with such finality.
Dad leaned in, trying to use his physical size to intimidate me. It was a trick that worked when I was a teenager. It didn't work today.
“Listen to me, young lady. You are going to march down to guest services, you are going to put us back in our balcony suites, and you are going to restore our packages. Or so help me—”
“Or what, Dad?” I interrupted, standing up. Even in heels, I was shorter than him, but I had never felt taller.
“Or what? You'll uninvite me from the cruise? You'll kick me out of the family group chat? You'll tell me I'm not family? You already did all of that.”
I picked up my purse.
“The accommodations you have now are the ones you paid for. Which is exactly zero dollars. Enjoy your trip.”
I turned my back on them and walked out of the buffet.
May you like
Behind me, I could hear Vanessa start to cry.
It was the most beautiful sound I had heard all week.
