The Least Likely Cruise Heroine Part 1

You’ve been reading the chapters and meeting the heroines of The Love Boat Bachelor, right? Monday through Friday this week and next you get a sneak peek at them.

Then, on the afternoon of February 4, we’ll open voting for readers. YOU get to choose the one heroine you think makes the perfect fit for Brent. Your votes will decide the final chapter of the book.

Voting will take place Feb 4-7. Then, on Saturday, February 14, the book will be made available on Kindle FOR FREE for FOUR days – Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday.

I thought I’d share some cruise memories, but a little more my style. I can’t give all my secrets away as some are with my heroine, but sadly, I have enough “That Julie, she’s fun to watch moments” that we can read for awhile.

Let’s get started.

It was 1995. First cruise. First adult vacation. It’s me and my sister and I’ve worked hard for this. We’re excited but so naive as we were sheltered kids. Was I a confident traveler? Did I look like a book cover heroine?

Ummm, no.

As the big sister, I was worried sick about my sister. A blonde with blue eyes, the ship’s crew followed her everywhere. It was creepy and we were taught to be kind. I feel like all I did that week was give the men dirty looks and tell my sister to hurry along and stop saying hello to everyone.

Then there was the humidity.

Heroines seem to have perfect hair in the movies. Me? Frizz. Horrible, horrible frizz.

How about the excursions? Surely I had to be a romantic vision there, right?

I was in Tulum, Mexico visiting the ruins.

It was about 450 degrees with full sun.

I am sweating in places I didn’t know could sweat. Don’t try to sugarcoat it. It wasn’t perspiring. It was full on drenched sweat.

And I realized during the excursion I didn’t pack extra bras.

What I had on, was all I had.

Oh, but my awesome self wasn’t done.

On the way back the young, single tour guide asked if anyone was single.

After all the yelling I did at my sister for inviting trouble, I am the first to raise my hand.

He asked if I was rich.

I shook my head. Rich to me was someone with a mansion.

He said, “You’re rich. You’re American.”

And I looked out the window.

The homes we were passing were shacks, if that.

There weren’t families with cars tooling around, and if they had a car, it was one, and it was a beater.

Their income came from tourists like us.

And my ignorant heart was the least romantic thing of all.

The good news about that cruise was the pictures. After we got home and I had the pictures developed, I went to take them to the Arduini home, a gathering place for dinners and good times between the parents and siblings. That particular day I’d been running late, and everyone ate and left, except for the second oldest, Tom.

I showed him my pictures and we talked for three hours.

As the least likely heroine, that was the day Tom realized there was something about me he wanted to know better.

We’ve been married more than 18 years.

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