waiter returned and thanked us, his hands clasped nervously in front of his chest. “You were so fast! We have protocols, practices, but we don’t use them very often. Is there anything I can get you extra? For your help?” He looked from Asher to me.
My nurse’s stomach had withstood the onslaught of someone else’s emesis, but the pregnant portion of me was now rethinking everything else. I pushed my half-eaten plate of pancakes away. “I think I’m good. Thank you, though.”
“Oh, no, no, thank you. So many people sick on board,” he said, shaking his head. And then he blanched as though he’d said too much. “But it’s not us, it’s the waves. We’re racing a storm. All the waves’ fault.”
“I believe you,” Asher said, with just the right tone to calm the man.
“Thank you, thank you,” he said again, waiting for an extra second in case we changed our minds, and then backing hurriedly away.
“Are you okay?” Asher asked me, looking worried.
I smiled at him, trying not to look at the table or smell anything. “Yeah. I’m fine. You should eat, though.”
“Maybe later.” He smiled, pushed his plate away, and stood to offer me his arm. “Let’s go on a walk. After all, my job here is done.”
* * *
I made it until we were outside the restaurant, and out of earshot of everyone. “Oh, Doctor—” I teased again, in fair imitation of the boy’s mother. “Save me, Doctor!” I pretended to faint against him.
“You realize you’re not too pregnant yet for me to spank?” he chided.
I stood a little straighter and took a step away. “I just like how you get to be the one to save people’s lives, and even on vacation I’m the one that gets to deal with the biowaste.”
He gave me a thoughtful look, then shrugged. “Well, now that you put it like that, being a doctor does sound sexy.”
We walked past a cruise employee furiously wiping down handrails with cleaner. I felt for the man. He, at least, understood how germy people could be.
There were saloon doors in front of us, and someone pushed through them, letting fresh air in from outside. “Oh, that’s nice.”
Asher stopped and propelled me forward. “You go out—I’ll catch up with you. I have someone I need to meet.”
I was about to protest when I realized he meant Operation Shotgun was under way. “By meet, you mean bribe?”
He broke into a wolfish grin. “If that’s what it takes.”
“That’s my fiancé.”
He raised my hand to kiss it without the least hint of irony.
* * *
Outside, it was brisk and turning gray as the clouds caught up. I’d brought precisely one sweater for this trip, and luckily I was wearing it now. I’d packed with our destination in mind—Hawaii, lush and green, all short sleeves and sunblock—and hadn’t planned for this. This was better than Port Cavell, though, where it snowed all winter long. There was something to be said for being outdoors without a thick coat.
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
My nurse’s stomach had withstood the onslaught of someone else’s emesis, but the pregnant portion of me was now rethinking everything else. I pushed my half-eaten plate of pancakes away. “I think I’m good. Thank you, though.”
“Oh, no, no, thank you. So many people sick on board,” he said, shaking his head. And then he blanched as though he’d said too much. “But it’s not us, it’s the waves. We’re racing a storm. All the waves’ fault.”
“I believe you,” Asher said, with just the right tone to calm the man.
“Thank you, thank you,” he said again, waiting for an extra second in case we changed our minds, and then backing hurriedly away.
“Are you okay?” Asher asked me, looking worried.
I smiled at him, trying not to look at the table or smell anything. “Yeah. I’m fine. You should eat, though.”
“Maybe later.” He smiled, pushed his plate away, and stood to offer me his arm. “Let’s go on a walk. After all, my job here is done.”
* * *
I made it until we were outside the restaurant, and out of earshot of everyone. “Oh, Doctor—” I teased again, in fair imitation of the boy’s mother. “Save me, Doctor!” I pretended to faint against him.
“You realize you’re not too pregnant yet for me to spank?” he chided.
I stood a little straighter and took a step away. “I just like how you get to be the one to save people’s lives, and even on vacation I’m the one that gets to deal with the biowaste.”
He gave me a thoughtful look, then shrugged. “Well, now that you put it like that, being a doctor does sound sexy.”
We walked past a cruise employee furiously wiping down handrails with cleaner. I felt for the man. He, at least, understood how germy people could be.
There were saloon doors in front of us, and someone pushed through them, letting fresh air in from outside. “Oh, that’s nice.”
Asher stopped and propelled me forward. “You go out—I’ll catch up with you. I have someone I need to meet.”
I was about to protest when I realized he meant Operation Shotgun was under way. “By meet, you mean bribe?”
He broke into a wolfish grin. “If that’s what it takes.”
“That’s my fiancé.”
He raised my hand to kiss it without the least hint of irony.
* * *
Outside, it was brisk and turning gray as the clouds caught up. I’d brought precisely one sweater for this trip, and luckily I was wearing it now. I’d packed with our destination in mind—Hawaii, lush and green, all short sleeves and sunblock—and hadn’t planned for this. This was better than Port Cavell, though, where it snowed all winter long. There was something to be said for being outdoors without a thick coat.
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
Similar Books
