As the rays of the morning sun flickered over my face, I awoke with my friend, Anxiety.  At first I did not know why.  Suddenly I remembered that Betty Lou had not been here last night.  I had tried to stay awake the night before, but could not.  I quickly sat up and looked around.  There she was, sleeping soundly.  With a sigh of anxiety-loss, I got up and went to the bathroom.  I decided to go ahead and shower.  I made sure I had on the “patch”, took a much-needed aspirin, and emerged.

Betty Lou was sitting up and smiling with the look that I must have had when I got back last night.  “What? What?  Tell me!” I demanded.

Over breakfast in the ship’s dining room I heard most of the rest of the story.  It seems that when Betty Lou was sitting alone at the dance Mr. Sinister came over, brought her a drink “on the house”, and asked her to go for a walk, as he was off duty soon.  Well, you know Betty Lou.

“So…what happened next?”  I personally felt she was lucky she had not had to walk the plank into the ocean.

“Well,” she said, “We walked around the deck, stopping sometimes to look at the stars…”  My eyebrows were, I believe, into my hairline at this point.  Only my jaw was still in place.

“Stop!  What caused the big switcheroo?  First he is not allowed to talk to guests, and the next he is buying you drinks and dragging you off for a walk!”  I’m sure I must have sounded a lot like a wild woman, or a loudly screaming Eagle.

“O.K. Here’s the deal.  He said that he didn’t think it was right that he could not personally talk with the guests, and that he has given notice to leave his position.  See?  I told you me may be having a bad day.  He says I have made him realize the life he is missing, and that he would like us to have a real relationship.”  Oh my.

“He said all that at once?!  Why didn’t he say something to you in the Blue Room when he came to our table?  And does Mr. Sinister have a name??”

“Well, he said all that over the course of the evening.  His name is Robert AND his middle name is ‘Lou’ , too.  Isn’t that sweet?  He said he got cold feet when he came up to us because he thinks you don’t like him.”

“Oh, Betty Lou.  He thinks right.  I don’t like him, and I hope this whatever-it-is goes away so you can finally see the guy that I see.  Does he also have a last name?”

“Oh yes, Goulet.  And Judy Lane, don’t worry.  I know you will learn to like him when you get to know him better.  He is really sweet, kind, sensitive and thoughtful.”

“Wait, Goulet.  Robert Goulet?  Good grief, Betty Lou.  Does he sing, too?”

“What do you mean by that?  He’s French.  That’s a French name!”

“Well, unless I am wrong, my grandmother used to play some of his recordings.”

“Well, Judy Lane, I am sure it is simply a coincidence.  I think it is a fine name, and sounds sooooo good with mine.”

I was entertained for a moment or two while Betty Lou repeated her name over and over with “Goulet” last.

“Don’t you think it sounds marvelous?”  Betty Lou asked, starry-eyed.

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