Chapter 37
She and Daniel managed to keep their mutual promise to avoid each other for twelve whole hours.
When Nora got back to her room last night, Greg was asleep, just as she’d assumed. He was snoring gently, and he didn’t even stir while she washed her face, brushed her teeth, undressed and got into bed next to him.
He’d awoken refreshed, and it took all her self-control not to burst into tears and confess everything to him. “I know I was kind of a wet blanket last night, Nora. But I’m ready to go now. Let’s go and see everything on the ship today.”
So they went to breakfast in the Main Dining Room, with no sign of Daniel. She looked up every time anyone walked by their table, and passed it off as idle curiosity. “I always wondered what kind of people come on these cruises,” she’d said, and he accepted that.
After breakfast, he suggested going up to the spa. “Maybe they’ve got couples massages,” he said. She could hardly say she wasn’t interested, when she’d been the one to mention the spa yesterday.
The spa was located in the Solarium, a huge glassed-in space on deck nine with a small pool, two hot tubs and a snack bar, as well as tons of beach chairs and plenty of tables scattered about, where couples or little groups were sitting and chatting or playing cards or, at one table, some sort of board game.
And that, of course, put her mind on Daniel.
She might have dismissed the thought—if he weren’t in the hot tub they were walking past. She only saw him from the back, but it was unquestionably him.
She couldn’t mistake his dark hair, or his build, or the delicate chain draped around his neck.
She also didn’t miss the arm around him, which was connected to a slim blonde woman chattering away.
She remembered nights sitting in his dorm room with her arm around him, how comfortable—and comforting—it felt.
That thought was not helping at all.
He didn’t turn to see her as they walked by, thank God. But she was tensed up now, and Greg had to notice that.
“Nora? Are you okay?” His arm was around her, and that wasn’t helping at all either.
“I just had a chill,” she said, and it wasn’t even technically a lie; she definitely felt something cold and upsetting running from her head down to the pit of her stomach. “It’ll pass. Let’s go get that massage.”
With any luck, Daniel and—Leanne?—would be out of the hot tub and somewhere else entirely by the time their massage was done.
And maybe after an hour—or however long it actually was—of being oiled down and kneaded by expert hands while lying a few inches from her boyfriend—she wouldn’t be thinking about Daniel anyway.
Daniel , an hour later
When he’d heard her name spoken, Daniel tried to convince himself that it wasn’t her. There were over two thousand passengers on board. There had to be at least a dozen Noras, right?
He couldn’t make himself believe it; it was enough of a victory that he didn’t turn to look at her and the man—Greg, she’d said—who was with her.
“You’re so distracted, Daniel,” Leanne had said. “You’re not still mad about last night, are you?”
He hadn’t been mad. Well, not at her.
When he got back to the cabin last night, he’d tried his best to quash the bitter anger he felt towards himself, and he thought he’d succeeded.
But then, when they’d woken up this morning, Leanne had apologized for spoiling their first night on the cruise.
He told her five times she’d done nothing wrong and had nothing to apologize for, but she still didn’t believe him.
“I was mad at myself for leaving you in the room when you were feeling bad. Really angry, to be honest.” It was strictly true and completely dishonest, and he hated himself for saying it.
But she’d finally accepted it, and suggested some time in the hot tub after breakfast to make them both feel better.
And it had worked until he heard her name. But then her footsteps trailed away, in the direction of the spa, and he managed to sort-of relax for a few more minutes of soaking.
Now they were up on deck ten, standing on the elevated railing that ran around the deck, looking out at the ocean. It was peaceful at the moment; nobody else was up here, and the shouts of little kids splashing in the main pool one deck below were just background noise.
And as a bonus, Nora would almost certainly not come up here. She wasn’t exactly acrophobic, but she also didn’t love high places, especially when they were fully exposed to the elements as this spot was.
Leanne, on the other hand, was in heaven. “This is great, Daniel! You can feel the wind, and smell that air—it’s so clean. I get why people love sailing.”
She had a point. The view was beautiful, and the air was clean. You never noticed the pollution and the random smells of the city—even in a smaller city like Charlotte—until you were somewhere where there was none of that.
“I’m not sure about a sailboat, with all those ropes and everything. But this is really nice. I could get used to this.”
He turned to Leanne. Her hair was blowing in the breeze, and so was her sundress, and she was absolutely glowing, just radiating joy. All she wanted in the whole world right now was to enjoy this moment with him.
It should have been good enough for him. But—as hard as he tried to convince himself otherwise—it wasn’t.
Nora , an hour later
The massage had been nothing short of a miracle. Ten minutes into it, Nora had forgotten not only Daniel, but her own name.
The only thing she could think about was how the hands of the masseuse felt as they worked what seemed like every muscle in her body; and the strong, warm pressure of Greg’s hand holding hers between the tables they were laying on.
When it was over, it had taken her five minutes to summon up the strength to stand, and Greg had to support her out of the spa and all the way down to deck six and the art gallery by the atrium.
“I thought you’d want to see this,” Greg said.
Her brain still wasn’t fully engaged. “Pretty colors?” That was all she could comprehend. Pretty colors hanging on the walls.
They stopped in front of a painting of a brightly-lit cottage. Greg was admiring it. Nora stared for a good minute or two while she slowly regained the capacity for rational thought. “I like it,” she finally said. “But Mom would disown me if I put a Thomas Kinkade up in my apartment.”
He was confused at that. “I thought your mother ran an art gallery?”
“Exactly. But modern art. The more abstract, the better.”
Greg took her hand and led her around the little gallery. “Something like this?” He was pointing at a garish, almost neon-colored painting. “We could buy it for her. Christmas isn’t too far away.”
She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. Unlike yesterday, he didn’t pull away from her. “Oh, my God. That’s the nicest thing. But…”
His shoulders drooped at the word “but.” All she could do was laugh.
“No, really. It’s such a sweet thought. But there’s no way you could know.
Mark Kostabi,”—she gestured at the little plaque showing the details of the painting—“Mom actually knows him. Despises him, is more like it. Something happened when she worked on an exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art back in 1992. I have my suspicions, but obviously I can’t ask her and I don’t really want to know the truth anyway. ”
Greg perked back up with her words. “I wouldn’t want to remind her of—whatever went down with her and this guy,” he said. “Maybe tomorrow in Charleston—there’s the big market, right near the port. We can find something there for her.”
She kissed him again. “That would be fantastic, Greg. She’d love it.” The market was already on her list of must-dos in Charleston, so even if they didn’t come across anything that Karen Langley would actually like, which was pretty much guaranteed, it would still be a good time.
Maybe she could keep the promise she’d made last night after all.
Daniel , late afternoon
Right after lunch, the weather took a sudden turn towards cold and wet.
There weren’t too many options indoors this afternoon; the shops were kind of overpriced, neither of them wanted to go to the casino and, as Leanne said, “If I spend any more time in the hot tub, I’ll turn into a prune.
” But then she saw something they’d both missed earlier—the big theater on deck four was showing a movie, and the choice was made.
It turned out to be Grosse Pointe Blank , and two hours later, Leanne was still grinning when they walked out of the theater. “That was great! How did we miss it when it came out in the spring?”
He didn’t remind her of the truth, which was that he’d very much wanted to see it at the time, but the way the commercials emphasized the violent shootouts had turned her off. “I don’t really like movies with all that bloodshed,” she’d said.
Apparently the charm of John Cusack overcame her feelings about movie violence, which he supposed was good to know for the future.
But there was something else about the movie that was occupying his thoughts just now.
This was 1997. He was the same age as John Cusack’s hitman in the movie.
And his ten-year high school reunion was—coming up? Or had he missed it already?
“Daniel, what’s up? You’re getting distracted again.”
At least it wasn’t about Nora this time; he had nothing to feel guilty for. “I’m sorry. It’s the movie—it got me wondering if I missed my reunion. This is ten years for me, just like John Cusack. I don’t think I ever gave them my address when I moved to Charlotte.”
They wandered out to the atrium. Deck four was the lowest level, and there was a bar located there.
Leanne beckoned him to sit on a stool next to her.
When the bartender looked their way, she told him, “Two champagne cocktails for us, please.” Then she turned to him.
“It’s ten years for me, too. So this can be our own little high school reunion. What do you think?”