Forty-Eight
Cary was somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. It was hard for Shiloh to know how far behind he was, on the clock. And his hours
were so strange and varied—she could never predict when he’d have time to check his email.
It was a surprise to get an email from him as she was sitting in bed, already composing a message to him on her laptop.
Cary’s message was short:
“I haven’t had a good day.”
Shiloh abandoned the silly message she was writing and replied directly to his email. “Can you tell me about it?”
“No,” he sent back.
“Cary, whatever happened today, I know you were doing your best.”
“How can you know that?”
Shiloh paused for a second and sucked on her lip. Then she typed, “Because I’ve only ever known you to do your best.”
She waited for Cary to reply. There was a delay sometimes. Internet on the ship was spotty. Cary had to send emails from a
work computer because his personal laptop wasn’t connected to the network.
A new message appeared. She opened it.
“Shiloh? Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
She waited a few minutes. She felt anxious. She got up to pee and wash her face.
When she came back, Cary had sent, “Was Junie okay? After what happened?”
Shiloh frowned. She pulled the laptop closer. “Yes. Cary, she’s fine. I promise. Please don’t lose sleep over that.”
As soon as she sent the message, Shiloh started typing a new one: “It sucks for my kids to have divorced parents. But they do. It’s reality. Their dad is already dating, and I could date someday, too. Theoretically. Junie’s going to have to adapt.”
Cary didn’t reply. Shiloh left the laptop open. She got under the covers and lay down. She kept the computer open by her face
and refreshed her inbox every minute or so.
Cary’s name went bold with a new message. She opened it.
“You haven’t dated?”
Shiloh bit her lip and sat up a little to type. “No. It’s hard to picture that happening right now. My kids are so young.”
“So are you,” he replied.
She pushed the reply arrow but didn’t start writing a message. A new email from Cary arrived before she could:
“You should date, Shiloh. You should at least think about dating as something beyond a theoretical possibility.”
“My mom dated. It sucked.”
“You’re not your mom,” Cary replied . “Or mine. Weren’t you just telling me that Junie will have to adapt?”
“I feel like you’ve switched sides, Cary.”
“I just don’t like thinking of you alone. You deserve more.”