Santa Cruise by Mary Higgins Clark Read Free Book Online Page A

drill is just a precaution.”
    Regan opened the closet door, pulled out the two life jackets, and handed one to her husband. “Do you think this is the only time we’ll be putting these on?” she asked jokingly.
    â€œWith the way things are going, I wouldn’t count on it,” Jack said as he helped pull Regan’s life jacket over her head. “You even look good in fluorescent orange.”
    â€œYou liar. Let’s go.”

10
    A t least the lifeboat drill had gone well, Dudley thought, as he stood in the supply room, waiting to hand out the Santa Claus suits. Except for that idiot who thought it was funny to keep blowing the whistle on his life jacket.
    I wish that the safety instructions didn’t have that new advice that if you can’t reach a lifeboat, you should put one hand over your mouth, hold down the shoulder of your life jacket with the other hand, and pretend that you’re just walking off the ship as you jump into the water. It was ridiculous. Walk or jump you’re still hitting the water in a most unpleasant way. That kind of talk scares people—I know it scares me. I can just see myself standing on the rail with the ship going down, and trying to delude myself I’m out for a stroll.
    Dudley shrugged his shoulders. There was enough to worry about without borrowing trouble.If anything else goes wrong I may be walking the plank anyhow, he thought. I cannot believe the Commodore was so mad at me this afternoon. Was it my fault that that waiter didn’t pay his alimony? No. Was it my fault that that first prong on the rock-climbing wall fell off? No. The Commodore should have been thrilled that I escaped with only a few bruises on my buttocks. I could use a good soak in a tub, he thought, but of course my room doesn’t have a tub. I’m lucky it has a sink.
    But I did hire the waiter, he admitted to himself. And the screwup on the room was an honest mistake. When I received the letter from Mr. Crater’s nurse showing me the receipts for all the money he had given to charity this year, and saying that his final wish was to be with good people like him on this cruise, how could I refuse? I just wish I had written it down when I gave his name to the reservations people. Maybe I didn’t get the final count straight, but it’s their fault for assigning two people to the same room!
    â€œOkay to come in?”
    The first Santa Claus had arrived. “I’m Ted Cannon,” he said.
    He’s one of the quiet type Santas, Dudley thought. He doesn’t seem like a barrel of laughs. I can’t picture him saying, “Ho! Ho! Ho!”
    â€œGreat to see you, Ted,” he said in his most enthusiastic voice.
    The Santa Clauses had been told that as a condition of coming on the cruise, they’d be expected to wear a Santa outfit at the first and final dinners at sea. Dudley was turning over in his mind how best to present the Commodore’s newest idea—that he’d love to see them wearing the outfits as often as possible. The Commodore wanted his passengers to enjoy a festive atmosphere, having no idea that Santas all over the ship at all times would more likely drive his guests out of their minds.
    The other nine Santas arrived within the next two minutes and crowded into the supply room. In those two minutes, Dudley had perfected his speech. Don’t let them think they’re doing us a favor, he reminded himself—let them think they’re being honored by being chosen to work.
    He felt relief as the men began to smile when he told them how proud the Commodore was to have them all aboard. “He wants to put the spotlight on the good you have all done to create warmth and joy for so many people during the holiday season,” Dudley explained, thinking that some of the Santas probably promised kids presents they didn’t get. “Because the Commodore understands how much love you provided to childrenof