Chapter 16
DAREK
We’d been cruising for about an hour when Liza asked for the third time where we were going.
“It’s a surprise,” I said, the same answer I’d given the first two times.
“I love surprises,” she said from the chair next to mine. “But I also hate not knowing things. My scientist brain needs data, details, coordinates.”
“You’ll have all of those soon enough.”
“How soon is soon?”
“Another twenty minutes or so.”
She groaned dramatically, and I couldn’t help but smile. Daisie had gone below deck with one of the crew members to get snacks, leaving Liza and me alone on the lower deck. The ocean was calm enough that the yacht barely rocked.
It was perfect. Exactly the conditions I’d been hoping for.
“Just trust me,” I said.
“I’m trying. But patience isn’t really my strong suit.”
“I’ve noticed.”
She swatted my arm playfully. The casual touch sent electricity through me. We’d been dancing around each other since the boathouse, maintaining a careful distance, being so damn professional it hurt. But moments like this made me wonder why we were trying so hard to keep things fake.
I pushed that thought aside and focused on the navigation.
We were getting close now. I had a feeling she would figure out what we were doing soon enough.
At least she would if she was as serious about whale migration as she said she was.
It was mid-May, which meant the whales should be making their way back north after spending winter in warmer waters.
Should be. There were no guarantees with wild animals.
I had done everything I could to stack the odds in our favor. Found the most likely corridor, checked the weather, timed our departure to coincide with optimal feeding conditions. If there were whales to be seen, we had positioned ourselves to see them.
If not? Well, at least Liza would know I tried. And we got to spend a nice day out on the water and far from prying eyes. The stupid paparazzi thing had spooked her.
The yacht started to slow and I knew we must be close. Liza noticed immediately. I watched her face, waiting for the moment of recognition. Anticipating her reaction.
Her eyes widened. “Wait. Hey, I know where we are.” She looked at me, pieces clicking into place. “Are we doing what I think we’re doing?”
“That depends on what you think we’re doing.”
Daisie came bounding back onto the deck clutching a juice box. “What are we doing? Are we there? Can I swim yet?”
“Not quite swimming weather,” I said. “But, Liza, why don’t you tell Daisie where we are?”
Liza turned to my daughter, and her face was radiant with excitement. “This is a known corridor for whale migration. At this time of year, they should be coming back from their winter vacation down south—from the Caribbean and places like that where they go to have their babies.”
“We’re gonna see whales?” Daisie’s eyes went huge.
“Well, there’s no guarantee,” Liza said quickly, tempering expectations like the responsible adult she was.
“Whales don’t follow exact schedules. It’s too wet underwater for them to keep calendars.
But we’re in the right place at the right time, and your dad has done a very nice thing for us by bringing us here. ”
She looked at me when she said it. The gratitude in her eyes made my chest feel tight.
The engine was cut off and I heard the anchor being lowered. The sudden quiet was profound, just the sound of water against the hull.
“So we just wait?” Daisie asked with her nose scrunched up.
“We wait and watch,” Liza confirmed. “Sometimes you have to be patient when you’re looking for wildlife. But that’s part of the adventure.”
I was happy. Genuinely, purely happy in a way I hadn’t been in a long time. Not because I thought we’d necessarily see whales—though I hoped we would—but because Liza was happy. I had managed to give her something good after the nightmare of last night’s paparazzi ambush.
I hated seeing her so shaken and afraid of being associated with me.
I couldn’t undo that fear. And unfortunately, I couldn’t promise that photographers wouldn’t show up again.
But I could give her this. It was a reminder that there was more to our arrangement than yacht club politics and custody battles.
I had to remind her that there was a reason she was pretending to be my girlfriend.
Liza went to grab her camera and rushed back onto deck. She stood at the railing with it ready, scanning the water.
“We have to listen,” Liza told Daisie.
Daisie mimicked her stance, hand shading her eyes, taking the job of whale-watching very seriously.
“What are we listening for?” I asked Liza.
“The blow,” she said. “That’s usually what you notice first. Whales have to surface to breathe, and when they exhale, it makes this sound, like a huge rushing of air. You can hear it from pretty far away if conditions are right.”
“And conditions are right?”
“Conditions are perfect.”
I stood at the rail beside them. All three of us stared out at the sea. I knew Daisie would get bored quickly. She was interested, but if we had to stand around for another hour, she was going to bail. I found staring out at the water very relaxing. But I wasn’t seven with endless energy.
“There!” Daisie shouted, pointing. “I heard it! Did you hear it?”
We all went silent, listening carefully. And there it was, the unmistakable sound of a whale surfacing. That great rushing exhale, like the world’s biggest sigh, carrying across the water.
“Where?” Liza had her camera up, scanning.
“Over there!” Daisie kept pointing. “By that wavy part!”
“All parts of the ocean are wavy, sweetheart,” I said, but I was looking too, following the direction of her finger.
And then I saw it. A dark shape breaking the surface, water streaming off its back as it arched through the waves. A humpback whale, massive and magnificent, so close I could make out the barnacles on its skin.
“Oh my god,” Liza breathed. Her camera was already clicking, rapid-fire shots as the whale moved through the water. “Daisie, you were right! Good eyes!”
Another blow, this time off the port side. Then another. There wasn’t just one whale. There were several, a small pod moving through the area, likely feeding on whatever was around this spot.
Liza was in heaven. I could see it in every line of her body. She took pictures and then jotted down notes in her notebook. She was cataloging data like the adorable nerd she was. I almost forgot I was supposed to be watching whales and not the beautiful woman geeking out over the massive mammals.
“Daisie, come here,” she called. “Want to look through the camera?”
She knelt down and helped Daisie look through the viewfinder, showing her how to follow the whales’ movement. She let her take pictures. My daughter’s face was pure joy. Liza’s patience with her was perfect.
I pulled out my phone and took a picture of them. Liza kneeling beside Daisie, both of them focused on the whales, with the ocean spread out behind them. It wasn’t for show or for the custody case. It wasn’t for anyone else to see. It was just for me, a moment I wanted to remember.
“Darek, look!” Liza pointed. “That one’s about to breach!”
I turned just in time to see one of the whales launch itself partially out of the water, its enormous body twisting in mid-air before crashing back down with a splash that sent spray fifty feet into the air.
Daisie screamed with delight. “Again! Do it again!”
“They don’t usually breach on command,” Liza said, laughing. “But yeah, that was incredible.”
We stayed there for over an hour, watching the whales feed and surface and occasionally breach.
Liza filled pages in her notebook, took hundreds of photos, and explained everything to Daisie in terms a seven-year-old could understand.
Daisie was getting four years of college education in one hour on the water.
“They’re so beautiful,” Daisie said, watching one surface close to the boat. “Do you think they know we’re watching them?”
“They definitely know we’re here,” Liza said. “Whales are really smart. They might even be curious about us.”
“Do you think they like us?”
“I think they’re probably neutral about us. We’re just another thing in their ocean, not particularly interesting unless we do something to bother them.”
“We’re not bothering them, are we, Daddy?”
“No, sweetheart. We’re keeping our distance, staying quiet. Just watching respectfully.”
Eventually, the whales moved on, heading north to wherever their internal compasses were directing them. We watched until they were too far away to see clearly and the ocean was empty again.
Liza finally lowered her camera and turned to me. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks flushed with excitement and wind and joy.
“Thank you,” she said. “That was… I don’t even have words. That was one of the best experiences of my life.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Most of my research is done from shore, looking at data other people collected, analyzing patterns from a distance. I almost never get to see them like this, up close and in their natural habitat.” She shook her head, still smiling.
“I’m touched that you thought to do this.
I love that you support what I do enough to go to all this trouble. ”
“It wasn’t trouble.”
“It was really thoughtful. Thank you.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” I said.
“Enjoyed it? I’m going to remember this for the rest of my life.” She glanced at Daisie, who was still scanning the water hopefully. “You made your daughter’s day too. Did you see her face when that whale breached?”
“I did.”
“You’re really good at this, you know. At being a dad. At knowing what will make people happy and then doing it.”
“I just wanted to make up for last night.”
“Stop,” she interrupted. “Stop doing that. Stop deflecting every time someone tells you you’re doing something right. You planned this because you’re thoughtful and kind and you pay attention to what matters to people. Own it.”
“Okay,” I said. “I planned this because I wanted to make you happy. You deserve good things, Liza, and I wanted to give you at least one of them.”
She licked her lips. My eyes immediately dropped to her mouth. I had a feeling we were both thinking the same thing.
“Can we have lunch now?” Daisie asked, oblivious to the moment she had just interrupted. “I’m starving and the whales are gone anyway.”
Liza laughed. “Yes. Let’s definitely have lunch. I’m starving too.”
As we headed below deck where the crew had prepared food, Liza caught my hand for just a second, squeezed it, then let go.
“Thank you,” she said again. “For all of this.”
“You’re welcome.”