“How long will that be? I’m worried about my blood sugar.”
Considering where I am in my spiel, we’re about ten minutes from stopping and turning north toward the cove. I cover the mic and ask Jonah if he will please get Lucy a bottle of orange juice—if she really is having a blood sugar moment, I don’t need her to lose her s**t out here in the open water with all these onlookers.
Jonah hands her a bottle but instead of thanking him, she whines that it’s warm. The other guests look at one another and then me, a few throwing irritated stares at Lucy, as happens when one amongst a crowd is obnoxious. “We’re going to stop here in a little bit, and then when we return to the resort, the dining room will be happy to make sure you have all the cold orange juice you need.”
“I shouldn’t drink or
