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"Back? But how, Momma?"

"I had the ship's captain inquire as to airplane schedules and found a flight going into Miami, Florida. From there, I will take another flight into Boston."

"But Momma, what about our vacation in Jamaica?" I couldn't believe what 1 was hearing, and what made it even more difficult to swallow was that she had already made all these travel plans, plotting here in the suite while I thought she was groggy and sick. "Why are you doing this?" I cried, unable to hide my disappointment.

"This has turned out to be anything but a vacation for me, Leigh. I'm not enjoying a moment of it, as you know." She straightened the fingers of her gloves. She was obviously determined to walk off the ship in style, knowing many people would be looking at her and wondering what was happening, since she was the owner's wife.

"But Momma, we're in the harbor now. We're not sailing. You won't be seasick."

"What about the trip back, Leigh? Do you want to put me through all that?"

"No, but I wanted us all to be together, to go shopping together and go to the fine restaurants and see the shows and swim in the ocean and . . ."

"Your father wouldn't have the time for much of that anyway. He wouldn't leave the ship. Don't you remember how we had to twist his arm to get him off the ship in London, and if we hadn't taken that tour, we wouldn't have seen half the city?"

"He arranged for the tour, Momma, and we had such a good time. I have all those pictures of us at London Bridge and Big Ben and the Tower of London. We did have a lot of fun there. We'll have a good time now, too. Please, stay with us, Momma. Please," I begged, silently praying that she'd reconsider.

"I can't." She turned away. "I'm sorry. I just can't. You'll understand later."

"Why? What do you mean?" My heart was in a frantic pitter-patter. Why later? What horrible news awaited?

"For now, just let it be, Leigh. Enjoy the rest of this vacation. I'll meet you at the dock when you return." She took my face between her hands and kissed my cheek. "Now, be a good girl and promise you won't do any repair work while I'm not around."

"Oh, Momma." I was crying now, crying so hard thought I might not ever stop, and I couldn't keep myself from calling her by the name from my childhood. Oh, why couldn't I be back in that happy, safe, childhood!

"I've left you some of my costume jewelry to wear on your nights out. Be careful with it." She absentmindedly stroked my head a bit but I could tell she was intent on her plans.

"Thank you, Momma." I lowered my head in defeat. Nothing I could do or say would make her change her mind. I felt so helpless and alone; but more than feeling sorry for myself, I felt sorry for Daddy. It would be so embarrassing for him to face his passengers once they all learned that his wife had left the ship and taken an airplane back to Boston. And he couldn't very well say she was so sick she had to leave. Looking like a fashion plate, she was walking off the liner. There could easily have been photographers from one of the glamour magazines snapping her picture as she descended to the dock. I decided right then to try hard not to embarrass him myself, to try to pull myself together.

"You're only going to be here three days, Leigh, and you have made some friends aboard, haven't you? You told me about the Spenser sisters and I had the captain report to me about their family. They're quite well-to-do.

"I'm only in everyone's way here," she added. "It's not fair to you and it's not fair to me.

Understand?"

I nodded, reluctantly. I couldn't believe she was making these feeble excuses to me. I didn't

understand. Why was she doing this? Why was she doing something that would hurt Daddy and me so much? It seemed the older a person became, the more difficult it was to be happy. Would that be the way for me as well?

"Good. Now help me leave. Take that small bag that contains my makeup, please."

We walked out together. I felt so empty inside. Oh Momma, it hurts so that you're leaving. Doesn't she care about us? I thought. There was something in the way Momma turned at the door to look back at the suite that told me she was saying "Good riddance."

I was surprised that Daddy wasn't waiting on the deck. How could she leave without kissing him goodbye? She didn't even look for him. She just started down the gangway to the dock and the awaiting taxi cab.

"Momma, where's Daddy?" My eyes looked frantically all over the deck, but he wasn't in sight.

"We said our goodbyes earlier," she replied quickly. She took the makeup bag from me. "Be a good girl. See you soon. I promise, I will make this up to you in ways you could never begin to imagine, Leigh."

It sounded like a good thing, but it frightened me even more to hear her say it.

She kissed me again and then hurried to get into the taxi, looking ever so happy when she peeked out of the window to wave. I stood watching her go off. Then I turned back to the ship. High up in the bridge, Daddy peered down, his face like the face of a stone statue--cold, lifeless, dejected, aged and worn by sorrowful times. He looked so gray and so old to me. The tears that streaked down my cheeks felt like drops of ice. What was happening to our happy, wonderful life? I used to believe the words "Once upon a time" had been created just for me. Now, I was afraid to include them in my own diary, afraid of what they had come to mean.

Even though I was angry at Momma for walking off the ship and leaving Daddy and me this way, I couldn't help but miss her. Whenever we had gone on one of Daddy's cruises, we always did so much together. It was so much fun shopping with her, and she would always find some fashionable place for us to lunch, no matter where we were. While we sat there, Momma would look about and comment about this one person or that, describing who she thought they were, what they did for a living, how much money they made, how sophisticated they were. Whenever I was with Mamma, people became interesting.

Mamma had a way of carrying herself in restaurants and stores when we were on vacation that made waiters and maitre d's and sales clerks think they were waiting on someone either very famous or royal. She spoke a little French and a little Italian, learning from the "Teach Yourself a Language" records she played over and over back home. Even if she mispronounced something or said something totally incorrect, she did it in such a way that the French person or the Italian person didn't correct her. And whenever she made a purchase or gave an order at a restaurant, she always made a point of leaning toward me and whispering something about what she had done, so I would learn from it.

It was no wonder then that I felt this great emptiness in my heart when she walked of the ship. Suddenly all the things I was looking forward to held no interest for me. And now there was Daddy to cheer up.