They found Terrell, as they expected, on the top deck in the ship library. Instead of puzzling over the clues, he appeared to be staring off into space. He jumped when Myrtle and Miles approached.

"Sorry," said Myrtle insincerely. "You must have been deep in thought. Trying to figure out a clue? Perhaps Miles and I can be of assistance—we're both experts with many years of experience."

Ordinarily, she'd have expected Terrell to bluster through a defensive explanation of his crossword ability, but today he seemed very absent-minded and vague. He said slowly, "Many years of experience."

"That's right," confirmed Miles. "Can we help you with something?"

Terrell immediately looked relieved. "Actually, that would be wonderful. I've been trying to figure out what to do."

"How many letters is the answer?" asked Myrtle. She started reaching for the paper.

Terrell's eyes narrowed in confusion and then he said, "Oh, you're talking about the puzzle. I was talking about some advice I need. Since, as you pointed out, you do have years of experience between the two of you."

Myrtle was tiring of the confusing conversation and was ready to go enjoy a coffee and the breakfast buffet. "What's the problem you need help with?"

Terrell blushed a bit and said, "It's Donnice. I just don't know what to do. I've never really been in a situation like this ... meeting someone and making conversation and making future appointments to meet for meals and drinks and such."

Myrtle said, "You mean dating. That's what dating is all about. But you've been married."

"Yes, but that was Mother's idea and she arranged the whole thing. Dates, too. Now I'm on my own and horribly out of practice. I suppose I was never in practice and I'm certainly having to scramble now. What I want to know is, what to do to continue seeing Donnice," said Terrell.

Miles said, "You're talking about when you're back home?"

"That's right. It's amazing that she doesn't live very far from me. I mean, it's a drive in the car, but not one that would limit our seeing each other. The problem is that I don't want to seem ...." Terrell stopped and searched for the right word.

"Pushy?" asked Myrtle. Because it was rather pushy to try to continue a shipboard romance on the ground.

"That's right," said Terrell, relieved. "I don't want her to think that I'm taking it too seriously. In case she doesn't want to take it too seriously. I've been in a stew about it. What do you think I should do? Or say? I don't want to drive her off. What if I ask her for her number and she gives me a fake phone number or something, just to get rid of me?" Terrell seemed to be working himself up into a lather over it all. "And what about today? Should I ask her to go out on an excursion with me? Is that, again, pushy?"

Myrtle realized once again that Terrell had paid little attention to anything to do with the ship's itinerary. "Well, you certainly won't be asking Donnice to go on an excursion with you today. Not unless you both dive overboard. It's our at-sea day."

"Oh. Oh, right. Of course." Terrell looked bemused.

"But, as I recall from yesterday afternoon, she asked you to do something with her. So it seems only right to reciprocate today. Otherwise, your problem might be that she doesn't believe you're as serious as she is," said Myrtle.

"There are shipboard movies," suggested Miles.

"Movies," murmured Terrell as if making mental notes. "That would be easier than other activities. Maisy told me we should go dancing." He made a face. "I'm no dancer. I'm not wanting to drive her off. All right, so I'll be the one to suggest a mutual activity today."

"You might want to ask her questions about herself. And give her a compliment of some kind ... that her blouse really brings out the color in her eyes or some such," said Myrtle.

Terrell actually took out a slip of crumpled paper from his pocket and jotted down her suggestion on it. Miles rolled his eyes at Myrtle. This was dating 101 and Terrell acted as if the advice was something he'd never considered before. The idea that an octogenarian who hadn't been on a date in fifty years or more could advise him on dating just went to show how rusty he was.

Myrtle said, "As far as wanting to see her after the cruise, why not be upfront with her? Tell her that you don't want her to think you're taking things too seriously, but that you really enjoyed meeting her and spending time with her. That you'd like to learn more about her after you return home."

Terrell was furiously scribbling on the sheet of paper. Miles and Myrtle exchanged another glance.

Miles added, "If you thought you were being too pushy, you could give her your number and let her be the one to follow up at home. Then you'd know for sure if she were interested."

This idea seemed to make Terrell anxious. "What if she loses the number and it turns into a missed connection? Like something out of that old movie."

"An Affair to Remember?" offered Miles.

Myrtle said, "I hardly think that would happen, Terrell. But Miles has a point—give your number to her and then you know what her intentions are. Put her in the driver's seat."

Terrell suddenly turned quite pale. "Here she comes! Here she comes!"

Donnice was across the room, smiling. She lifted a hand for a friendly wave.

Miles looked alarmed. "We should go."

Myrtle shot him a look. "We have other things to discuss with Terrell."

"I don't want to be party to an intimate conversation," protested Miles, looking squeamish.

Terrell looked panicky. "You can't go! Not now. I'm all worked up. I won't even be able to say anything. Coach me through it."

Donnice paused to get a coffee from the counter on her way to join them.

Myrtle said crossly, "I'm not Cyrano de Bergerac, Terrell. And this woman is not scary, I promise you. I know scary. I'm scary. Donnice is a piece of cake."

"I'm going to give her my number now. I don't think I'll have the guts to do it later," said Terrell.

Miles shifted uncomfortably and looked longingly at the door. "I wouldn't rush things. Don't just spit it out, Terrell."

Myrtle was feeling desperate to ask her question. The barista was making a complicated drink for Donnice but it would still only likely take her a minute to get the coffee. "Terrell, Miles and I will help you. We will not desert you while you're so worked up."

Terrell said fervently, "Thanks for that. You don't know how much I appreciate it."

"Oh, I think I do. But I do have one thing that I wanted to ask you. A favor," said Myrtle.

"Of course," said Terrell in a brisk, professional voice. "What can I do for you? Some sort of medical question?"

"No. I want to know why you lied to Miles and me about the lecture. I heard that you left it early and that leaves you with unaccounted for time. I want to know what you did with that time," said Myrtle.

Miles raised his eyebrows. Myrtle was being even more direct than usual.

But Terrell was in no position to dilly-dally or beat around the bush. "I left early. You must have talked to Bettina. She spotted me after she'd been chatting up some poor sap in the pool area."

Miles gave a long-suffering sigh at Bettina's commando tactics.

Myrtle said to Terrell, "Bettina is really the one you should be asking about relationship issues. She's certainly got the practice."

Terrell rolled his eyes. "No thanks. I'll pass. But, in terms of the lecture, you're right. Fascinating lecture topic, but dry delivery. I slipped out the door when the fellow wasn't looking. No need to hurt any feelings. He'd have noticed, though—there were only two people in the audience. Imagine that!"

"Imagine," said Miles dryly.

"As I left, I thought I might try to find Donnice." Again with the blushing. Myrtle hoped that he would soon be able to stop doing that. It might be cute on a young man in the bloom of youth, but made Terrell look as if he were afflicted with some sort of unmanageable skin condition.

Myrtle said impatiently, "Yes, yes. You were looking for the girl. But you didn't immediately find her, did you? So what happened?"

Terrell sighed. "I decided to look for her in the pool area. I knew that swimming isn't so much my thing, but perhaps Donnice feels differently. That's when I saw her."

"You mean Eugenia," said Myrtle. "Alive or dead?"

"I presume dead," said Terrell stiffly. He glanced over at Donnice who was now paying for her coffee. "Look, I didn't say anything because I was worried I'd be misinterpreted ... as it appears I am. When I came upon her, she was very still and slumped with her head back. It looked like too uncomfortable of a position for anyone to willingly choose if they were alive."

Miles looked at Terrell with a disapproving expression. "You're a medical professional. Didn't you think to approach her and see if she were having some sort of cardiac event or something? Something that you could have tried to help her with? She was a member of your family!"

Myrtle knew that, to Miles, the worst part was that Terrell had not behaved up to the standards that chivalry demanded.

Terrell did appear to be abashed. "I know. I should have done something. If she'd been face-first in the water then I probably would have done something—at the very least I'd have made sure that she hadn't fallen asleep and was drowning. But there was something very ... dead ... about Eugenia when I spotted her in that hot tub. I've seen a lot of dead bodies in my time as a doctor and I guarantee you that she was already dead. There was nothing I could have done." He paused and added, as an afterthought, "But I'm very sorry it happened. I was fond of Eugenia. In my own way. Although it was rather disturbing how she kept following me around."

Myrtle sighed. "If you say so. Sometimes it's easy to misinterpret what someone's intentions are."

Miles said unhappily, "And sometimes not. Bettina has certainly made her intentions clear."

Terrell raised his eyebrows. "If Bettina has been pursuing you, you should know that she was also apparently after some other gentleman onboard. Flirting in the pool area, I believe. Heads-up."

Miles nodded miserably. "Fingers crossed she makes a match with the fellow."

"That all reminds me that I was going to take my book to the pool deck and read. Supposed to be like being on a beach. And there's a bar right there," said Myrtle thoughtfully.

Terrell said, "If you do, be sure to sit back from the edge. Bettina was rather damp and said that there were lots of kids there splashing and no parent to fuss."

"Parents these days," said Miles, shaking his head. He looked at Myrtle. "But I do have my library book to finish. Maybe we could go to the pool this afternoon?"

"Sounds good. And now I think Donnice is upon us," said Myrtle.

Donnice was in a very cheerful mood. Her eyes danced and she seemed genuinely delighted to see Terrell. "Good morning, everyone! You know, it's just so nice to see people up and about early in the morning. I've always been a morning person, but it usually means that I'm all alone when I get up." She pulled a seat from another table to join them at theirs.

Terrell seemed frozen, weighed down by the momentous question he must ask to try to maintain this emerging relationship when he got home.

Myrtle gave him an impatient look and said, "I know what you mean. Sometimes it seems as though I'm the only person in my town that's awake—except for Miles here. He's also a poor sleeper." She turned to Terrell and said peremptorily, "Terrell? You're always an early riser too, aren't you?"

He stuttered out, "Yes. I am. Mornings are good."

Myrtle sighed. For all his degrees, Terrell was apparently turning into a monosyllabic person when faced with the charming Donnice. He gave her a helpless look and she sighed once again. Myrtle supposed that she had made some sort of deal with him to assist him. Miles was looking longingly at the door.

"And the conversation is always fun in the mornings, isn't it? We were just having a conversation about cell phones," said Myrtle.

Terrell seized onto this conversational topic although Donnice's expression seemed to indicate that she wasn't altogether sure it was all that interesting. "Phones, right." He launched into a long, confused, and rambling monologue on phones and how odd it was for him to get used to carrying one. This led into what a technophobe he was in general. Myrtle suspected that it wasn't very good to label oneself a technophobe at Terrell's age. Miles watched disbelievingly as Terrell continued yammering.

Finally, Myrtle interrupted, as Donnice was looking increasingly bewildered at her stammering suitor. Myrtle, with much authority in her voice that she'd gleaned in her schoolteacher years, said, "All this talk of phones has reminded me that I wanted to get Terrell's number for when I got back home."

Terrell, who'd begun perspiring at his temple, gaped at Myrtle.

"Since we've become such good friends on the ship," said Myrtle pointedly. She gave Miles a suggestive kick under the table.

"Oof! Ah ... yes. I'd like Terrell's number, too. Such good conversation over, ah, crosswords. And coffee," said Miles rather lamely as he reached down to rub his shin.

Myrtle turned to Donnice and gave her one of her sweetest smiles. "Should Terrell provide you with his number, dear? Since he's distributing it to everyone?"

Donnice blushed. Fortunately for her, her blushes were much more attractive than Terrell's were. "Yes, please," she said like a child asking for a peppermint.

Terrell swallowed hard. He tried to speak, but was completely tongue-tied. He gave Myrtle a desperate look.

Myrtle added quickly, "Oh good. Terrell was just saying how he looked forward to furthering his acquaintance with you on his return home."

Terrell, still jotting down phone numbers, pulled at his shirt collar with one hand.

Donnice said, "I'm so glad to hear it. And glad to be exchanging numbers." She put her hand out for the piece of paper that Terrell gave her and smiled warmly at him.

Myrtle said, "Miles and I are heading out now for the buffet. Good to see both of you." And they hurried away, relieved at their escape.

"Well done," said Miles. "That was your good deed for the day."

"That," said Myrtle, "was my good deed for the month."

They had a delicious breakfast at the buffet. Myrtle really piled her plate with all the foods that she wouldn't cook for herself when she got back home. When they were done and were walking toward their rooms, Miles asked, "What now?"

"I think, sadly, that I should start organizing my things for the trip home tomorrow. Just to put the laundry in a separate bag, that sort of thing. I need to decide what to have in my carry on, too. I suppose you've already packed everything up, as compulsive as you are. So the question should really be, what will you be doing now?"

"Oh, you know," said Miles glumly. "Eating, gazing at the lovely scenery, and avoiding the rapacious Bettina."

"I suspect Bettina has given up completely on you. You certainly didn't provide any scintillating conversation last night. And you made it seem as though you were a hermit living in a hovel."

"You think so? Thank heaven for that," said Miles fervently. "And after your organizing, we're going to read at the pool?"

"Exactly. It shouldn't take me too long," said Myrtle.

Myrtle was thoughtfully putting her toiletries into zipper bags when there was a light knock at the door. Surely Miles wasn't back already to go read. She opened the door and peered out.