Day 14 - BA5 takes the lead

Deck chairs procured!!! Poolside on the Norwegian ‘Escape’…

7/5/22. Tuesday. Day 6 on cruise

8:00-12:00 - We’re at sea the entire day and I vow to get TWO lounge chairs no matter what. My objective is assisted by the time change - passengers were instructed to turn back the clocks one hour last night. I’m up at 7:00, but it’s really 6:00, shower, bathing suit, beach bag, and I’m poolside by 8:00 am!! I score two lounge chairs. I did it!! I set up shop and go get breakfast. Pool advisories on the jumbotron are running every few minutes and repeatedly admonish guests not to leave their chairs unattended for longer than two hours. These advisories are resoundingly ignored…by everyone. There is no pool enforcement.

Great day! No wind and sunny. Nice and hot.

12:00-1:00 - L. surfaces and takes the chair I saved for her. After about an hour, she heads to the bar to get water.

1:00-2:30 - By 2:30, L. has still not returned from the Pool Bar. Lest you think I’m one of those neurotic mothers, let me remind you that L. went to the bar to grab a couple of waters. The bar is a few yards away. It’s been 90 minutes. So, yes, I’m a little concerned.

2:30 - 3:00 - I start texting L. and eventually she responds and returns. It seems she has met a boy [excuse me - a 25-year-old male] and they got to talking; they also ordered drinks. Here, on cruise, on the Grecian seas, L. is legally allowed to drink and she’s been experimenting while on vacation - nothing excessive, however.

And so, after this chance encounter between L. and this young Native American man named Colin Two-Hatchet, I never see L. again. But, right now, I don’t know this…yet.

Other than our booked excursions and family dinners, L. is with Colin for the duration of the cruise and I spend it…alone. That’s not the main issue, however. At this stage in my life, I’m independent and totally used to doing everything by myself. I haven’t needed a “side kick” in a couple of years so that’s not the problem, initially. The real dilemma is L. no longer consistently returns to our cabin, staying out with a strange man, whom I’ve never met and know nothing about, until 12:00 am, 1:00 am, 2:00 am for the remaining 5 nights.

The last half of the cruise will become extremely anxiety-provoking for me as I wait for L. to return to our stateroom. I will text L. for her whereabouts and she will be resentful, because she’s an adult, and won’ t bother responding most of the time. She will come and go as she pleases and all of this will be so much worse than what I’m already experiencing at home, in California, because although L. comes and goes at will there and bristles when I text her the question, ‘When are you coming home?" [NOTE: she does NOT have a curfew of any kind] because, after all, she is an adult, and shouldn’t have to tell me where she’s at, even though I’m only asking because she’s my “only” and I’m terrified that she’s been either raped, murdered, in a car accident, or all three, I still know the people with whom she is partying and they are generally trustworthy and care about L. I know nothing about Colin Two-Hatchet [yes, that is his real name].

To make matters worse, as the cruise continues, my family will inquire about Colin as if it is perfectly natural for L. to be out at all hours of the night with a strange man [25 to her 20], whom she has just met, at a bar of all places, on a cruise: “Did you see Colin last night? Did he text you? What’s Colin doing today?”, S&M and my Mom will ask. I will have difficulty sleeping the rest of the trip, because L. is gone every night.

Over time, L. will enter into a relationship with Colin and end her relationship with T. When she returns to California, L. will talk to Colin on the phone, nightly. She will learn that he smokes weed every day, is “a gamer” who plays video games for hours on end, hates his job as a UPS supervisor, and has no incentive to go to college even though his grandfather said he would pay for the entire four years of school. And although L. will fly to Kansas once, where Colin lives, and he will come to California twice, where L. and he will book hotel rooms during his stay, L. will refuse to give me the courtesy of meeting Colin, saying only that she and Colin were too busy or had too many activities planned, and there simply wasn’t time for an introduction. When she goes to Kansas, L. will deliberately ignore my texts requesting her flight information [to AND from], Colin’s address, phone number, and DOB until just before take-off from LAX, at which point she will finally send me the requisite information.

Once we return from cruise, as 2022 unfolds, the only way I will be able to spend time with L. is if I book an “appointment” and even these scheduled dates and times will be fraught with miscommunication, solely on L.’s part: “Oh, did you say 7:00?” “I have no recollection of this.” “You said nothing about getting dinner after the musical so I booked a “private” [art student] as soon as it was over.” “Was it Wednesday?” “I have Tuesday so I booked a double-shift at The Club.” L. will come to see me as an after-thought, an inconvenience, someone to “squeeze in” and even though I have sacrificed my entire life for this child, converted a garage into an art studio solely for her, have never charged L. rent or utilities, and am paying the remainder of her college tuition for a total of $40,000, L. will rarely, if at all, say thank you and, for the most part, largely ignore me.

Eventually, I will quietly, silently give up trying to spend time with my daughter and focus more on embarking on the journey of what I have come to call “the second half of my life” while L. embarks on the journey of the first half of hers, because this is what 20-year-olds do. And although, in October, L. and I will take a 2-day trip to Vegas together, I will be acutely aware that I was only invited because Colin canceled at the last minute, and L. was unable to get a refund because she booked a room at the Virgin Hotel, well in advance, for the reduced rate. On this trip, I will pay for everything, our dinners, our shows, etc., on a State-pensioner’s salary, and L. will thank me only once for the dinner we had at Nobu upon our arrival and I will be reminded, again, that had Colin not canceled, I wouldn’t even be here.

In November, L. will end the relationship.

But, on this particular day, Day 6 of the cruise, I don’t know any of this yet. All I know is that L. is late in returning to her deck chair from what was supposed to be a quick stop at the bar to get water. This day will become the catalyst that sparks a radical shift in my relationship with my daughter…forever.