Chapter 7 - The Final Meltdown
The climax of the trip happened on the final night of the cruise.
It was the Captain’s Farewell Dinner.
I decided to wear my favorite dress—a sweeping emerald green gown that made me feel like royalty. I put on the silver seashell earrings I had originally bought for my mother. They looked better on me anyway.
I was dining alone at the Captain's VIP table, a perk of the penthouse suite.
The dining room was a stunning multi-level masterpiece with a massive chandelier in the center.
I was halfway through my lobster tail when the screaming started.
“There she is! That’s my daughter! Tell her to let us in!”
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath.
Dad.
I looked down from the VIP balcony tier.
My family was causing a scene at the main entrance of the dining room. They were trying to push past the maitre d', demanding to be seated in the premium section.
“Sir, your keycards are for the main dining hall, not the VIP tier,” the maitre d' said calmly, though two security guards were already walking over.
“My daughter paid for this entire trip!” Dad roared, pointing a thick finger up at me.
Hundreds of heads turned to look at the balcony.
Mom was crying loudly, playing the victim for the crowd. Vanessa was yelling at the security guards.
“She stole our packages! She’s hoarding a penthouse while we sleep in a closet! Make her give it back!” Vanessa shrieked.
It was embarrassing. It was chaotic. It was exactly who they were.
A security officer stepped up to my table. “Miss Miller? Are these individuals bothering you?”
I looked down at the people who shared my blood.
The people who had bled me dry for a decade.
“I know them,” I said calmly, my voice carrying slightly in the quieted room. “But they are not my family.”
Dad’s face went white.
“They are just some passengers who seem to be confused about what they are entitled to,” I continued, turning back to my lobster. “Please escort them out. They are ruining the ambiance.”
The officer nodded curtly.
Down below, the guards took Dad by the arms.
“Millie! Millie, you can't do this!” Mom wailed as they were firmly guided out of the dining room. “We're your family!”
“Not anymore,” I whispered to myself, taking a sip of wine.
The dining room stayed quiet for a moment, and then, a slow clap started from a table nearby.
It was the women from Chicago.
May you like
Soon, a few others joined in.
I smiled, raised my glass to them, and finished my dinner in peace.
