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Besides, this weather was nice in its own way. The air tasted like salt and storm, wild. I walked to the end of the deck and stared over the edge with my hands on the railing, and I found myself a lot less fearful of it than I’d been at the dock. The sea here wasn’t pretending to be calm, and I liked it better for its honesty.


I leaned over and watched the bow of the ship cut through the waves, spray shooting up like a running horse’s mane. A side gust caught me, the kind of wind that made you feel like you could grow wings and fly. It took my breath away—and my nausea. When I couldn’t feel my nose anymore, I turned and walked the perimeter of the deck.


There were fewer people out here than there’d been the night before, what with the weather. But even if there’d been more, the person in the wheelchair up ahead still would have been recognizable. Claire’s paisley blanket was higher now, shielding her from her shoulders down. She turned and caught me looking at her, then waved me over, her hand peeking out from underneath her cover.


“How are you doing?” she asked as I arrived.


“I’m slightly more convinced about this mode of transportation than I was yesterday.”


She nodded, like I had just learned a valuable lesson. “I love it out here. You’ll need a thicker coat, though, especially for the Alaskan cruises.”


“I’ll get one.” I hugged myself, standing still.


“Would a walk help keep you warm?” she asked.


“Sure, uh—” I looked at the brakes on her wheelchair. To wheel, or not to wheel, was the question.


“You look pretty strong. Plus, I’m warmer this way,” she prompted, shrugging her blanket.


“Ha. Okay.” I leaned over and undid the brakes. “Hey, you know how Hal asked us if we were newlyweds yesterday?” She nodded as I pushed her. She was heavier than she looked, but her wheelchair made an excellent windblock. “Well, Asher proposed this morning. So we almost are.” I ought to get to share my second piece of good news with someone. My mom would be fine with an out-of-wedlock baby, having long since given up on my timeliness, but she might never forgive me if she didn’t get a chance to host a wedding shower.


Claire turned to look back at me. “Oh, congratulations!”


“Thanks.” I beamed. It felt good to tell someone.


She tilted her head and pierced me with one bird-like eye. “What about the baby? Does he know?”


I stopped abruptly, and the ship rolled, sending her wheelchair back to run up against my foot before I caught it. “What? How did you—”


“I’m an old woman,” she said, as though that were answer enough.


Well. Since I’d already outed myself anyway. “Um, yes. He found out about the baby before he proposed. Not that he wouldn’t have anyway, eventually—he was just really excited about everything.”


She smiled and nodded. “He’s a stand-up man.”


“I like to think so.” And despite the fact that I’d asked for it, I felt a little overexposed and desperate to change the conversation. “Do you have kids of your own?” If she did, they’d be my age—or my mother’s.


Claire shook her head sorrowfully. “Oh, no, that was never in the cards for Hal and me. I do like children, though.”


“Me too. I think.” I waited a bit. “I hope.”


She laughed melodiously. “I’m sure you’ll catch on,” she said, and leaned out of the wheelchair to point. “Can we go over there? That’s where I was supposed to be, before I started wandering.” I started to push her across the deck, impressed she’d been able to roll herself that far. Her upper body was probably stronger than mine.


“So where are you going next, after this?” she asked me.


“Back to the room?” I guessed, like it might be the wrong answer.


She shook her head. “No, no. I mean after this cruise.” She braced herself on the wheelchair’s arms underneath her blanket and craned back at me, seemingly oblivious to the rocking of the waves. “You shouldn’t finish one trip without having another one in mind. It’s the secret to staying young—always having something to look forward to.” She gave me a conspiratorial smile. “You’ve got to see the world while you can, preferably while you still have your original knees.”


I grinned at her. “How old are you? If I can ask, that is.”


“Well, I’d tell you that bullshit line about ladies never revealing their age, but let’s just say I’m pushing eighty-nine. Or you are, since you’re back there.”


I snorted. We’d almost made a full circle of the deck—on this side, we were protected by structures on the deck from the wind. We passed by a few people determined to be tropical, huddling shoulder-high in the hot tub, and a few kids racing around the kiddie pool under shivering parental supervision.


“It’s like they don’t have any nerves,” Claire said from the warmth of her blanket.


“Or they’re a different species,” I agreed. It was hard not to stare at them and think too hard. Would that be me out there in a year? What will she look like? I thought, half a second before I realized I desperately hoped we’d be having a girl. I’d never thought about that before. Ever.


Claire looked back up at me, expectantly. I’d stopped without warning. “Sorry,” I apologized, and started walking again.


Please please please, may it be a girl, I prayed fervently, to anyone who could be listening, with a smile.


“We have to go now, Thomas.” The wind carried a voice I recognized over to me, and I looked back to see Liz scooping her arms toward her child, who began crying.


He was fighting her, reaching back for the water she was pulling him away from. “Stop that, honey. Come on, it’s time for lunch.”


He went into full-on tantrum mode, and she was having none of it, folding in limbs as fast as he could free them while he fought her to stay.


Then came a moment when he stopped fighting her and went limp. I could see him accept defeat, tears streaming down his face. And then he looked at me, looking at him—and beyond, to the ocean at my back. I could almost read his thoughts. If he was being made to leave one body of water—so what, when there was a much bigger one nearby? His hand slipped out of hers and he barreled toward the nearest railing, twenty feet away from Claire and me.


CHAPTER NINE


“Claire, hang on.” I trusted her wheelchairing skills to save her as I let go and raced to stop him. It was silly really, he was just a kid, and I was so much bigger. I beat him easily and swooped down to catch him just as Asher had the night before. He barreled into me, let me pick him up, and then tried to climb over me, to use me as a launching ramp to get out to the sea.


“Hey!” I tried to pry him off me while he fought like a monkey to stay on and climb higher. The ship rolled with a wave and I fell to the deck with a yelp, taking Thomas down. He knocked my breath away as he landed on top of me; it was all I could do to breathe and keep him still.


“Thomas!” Liz warned at full volume. He didn’t stop fighting me until she was near enough to cast a shadow over us both, like a passing hawk.


“Woman, restrain your child!” Claire chastised, wheeling over.


“It’s okay—” I let go of Thomas carefully, like passing a baton, only releasing him when I knew Liz had a firm hold.


“It’s not okay. What kind of mother are you?” Claire went on, squinting up at Liz. “Who lets their child do that?”


“Edie?” Asher arrived just as I was managing to stand.


“That monster knocked over your fiancée.” A bony hand emerged from under Claire’s blanket to point at the offending child.


“I’m so sorry. I have no idea what’s gotten into him lately,” Liz said. I could see she was on the brink of tears—and I heard Claire inhale, to give her no quarter.


“It’s fine. Honestly. It’s fine,” I said, trying to cut things off.


Asher looked me over, his eyes dark. “You’re okay, right?”


“Completely.” I gave Liz as warm a smile as I could. It wasn’t her fault that Thomas was unruly; kids his age were just like that. Toddlers were supposed to be scared of strangers and new things—being on a cruise ship must be terrifying for him.


Not to mention his dad being some kind of cold scientist. That had to be rough, on both of them. “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been there to catch him,” she said, shaking her head, Thomas clutched near.


“He probably would have run into the railing, like a bird into a windowpane, is what,” Claire said.


“Yes, exactly,” Liz agreed, trying to smile us into liking her again. It was working on me. I gave her another smile back, and she seemed fractionally relieved.


But Asher was looming nervously, worried about me. She shied away from him in a skittish-horse kind of way, spinning Thomas to her other hip. “Why don’t you come to dinner with Nathaniel and me tonight? It’s the least I can do.” She asked me, not him.


“Oh, that’s okay—” I began. I felt bad for her, she seemed genuinely nice and a little lonely, but I didn’t want to volunteer to spend my free time with her husband.


“Sure,” Asher butted in, calmly. “What time?”


Liz smiled even more, all of her even white teeth showing. By us accepting, her child’s behavior would be forgiven, and calm would be restored. Something about the way she held herself, her facial expressions, the place she stood—I’d seen this eggshell walk before, and it made my heart bleed a little for her. Oh, Liz, you’re definitely too good for him.


“Seven. At the, uh, fancy one on the ninth floor,” she said, not willing to try the French.


“Thanks. We’ll see you there,” Asher answered for both of us. Freed to leave, Liz carried Thomas away.


“If I’d had a child, he would never, ever, act like that,” Claire said, and rearranged her blanket carefully back over herself. I didn’t say anything—but I didn’t think I’d ever get to be as freely judgmental as Claire again. In a few years, that kid might be my kid, no matter how hard I tried. At least Asher wasn’t Nathaniel, though.