“Marianne’s Cruise:” a flash fiction story
If only her daughter would let her enjoy it…
Marianne’s vacation with her daughter Lucy was exactly what she needed since the crash. She’d been recuperating indoors for too long.
And what a trip: a cruise from Tampa to Cozumel, Mexico, then to Honduras, Belize, and Puerto Costa Maya, Mexico, before returning to Tampa. How did that dear girl know Marianne dreamed of traveling on a ship for years?
The corridors were wide enough for her wheelchair to turn. The public doors opened automatically, with inclines leading into the public rooms, and there were elevators and ramps. The stateroom had similar provisions. Lucy must’ve researched this line and its accommodations thoroughly. She always was a sharp one.
But from the moment they boarded, she insisted on helping Marianne tie her shoelaces, putting her sweater on while on deck at night, even cutting her food at meals! She was a paraplegic, but she wasn’t a baby.
Still, Lucy probably couldn’t resist the urge to help. Marianne sighed and let her.
One afternoon, Marianne took advantage of the pool lift and took a dip. Good thing she opted to bring her swimsuit.
The lifeguard helped her into the lift’s chair. Lucy criticized the way he fit her inside and questioned whether Marianne was comfortable. When she was ready to leave the pool, he pulled her up and out and back into her wheelchair, again, with Lucy looking over his shoulder, telling him what to do and what not to do, never mind that he was a professional. The poor man appeared ready to strangle her.
Marianne wanted to scream.
Of course, Lucy followed her into the bathroom, even though it had a raised toilet and lowered sink. When Marianne washed her hands, Lucy actually pumped the soap from the bottle for her!
That was it. Marianne tucked her hands into her armpits.
“Mom?” Lucy asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Lucy. Please stop.”
“Stop what?”
“I love you and I appreciate this vacation. But you have to let me do some things for myself.”
Lucy hovered over her, the liquid soap still in her hands.
“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I assure you, dear, my arms and hands still work.”
“But we’re on a ship at sea. What if something happens to you?”
“What if, what if, what if! You think I’m unaware of what could happen? You think I’ve forgotten my condition?”
Lucy stared at her in the mirror a long time. Then she turned on the faucet and washed the soap away.
“I’m sorry.” She blow-dried her hands and left without another word.
Lucy wasn’t to blame for that SUV hitting her Subaru while driving Marianne home. One day that girl will realize that. This won’t be the last time they’d have this conversation on this cruise. But Lucy would have to adjust. For both their sakes.
Marianne washed and dried her hands and left the bathroom.