Chapter Ten
Mari wasn’t a stranger to early mornings.
It was the late nights that were taking their toll.
Much as she wanted to shake off the mother gene, the one that kept her up long after she retired to the stateroom . . . the one that wondered when Rosa was going to return . . . the one that wanted to ask where she was, what she was doing, and who with . . . Mari couldn’t.
Her eyes had finally closed sometime after midnight.
The sound of Rosa bumbling around the room woke her around two in the morning. Mari decided to pretend to be fast asleep, banking on the fact that the two of them would be spending the majority of the next day on a beach relaxing. And likely discussing Rosa’s evening.
Mari stayed relatively quiet until she heard the first moans coming from her friend.
“Someone was out late,” Mari said once she was positive Rosa was awake.
Rosa moaned again. “I think I’m dead.”
Mari chuckled. “I assure you, that isn’t the case.”
“What time is it?” Her voice sounded rough around the edges.
“Just past seven.” Mari pushed off the bed and opened the blinds.
Rosa pulled the covers over her head. “Please, no. I feel awful.”
“Dancing and drinking all night might be the cause.” And whatever else Rosa had been up to.
“I feel like a vampire, Mari.”
She glanced at her friend, who peeked over the edge of the covers. Her face was pale, her skin looked clammy.
Taking mercy, Mari darkened the room. “I think it’s safe to say that you’re hungover.”
“I’m too old for this.”
“No breakfast this morning?”
Rosa rolled to her side. “Don’t mention food.”
Mari moved closer and placed a hand on Rosa’s forehead. “You’re warm.”
“It’s cold in here.”
“It’s not.”
Rosa looked up. “Would you hate me if I abandoned you today? I don’t think I can muster the strength to even sit on the beach, much less kayak or snorkel.”
James had suggested they meet at nine thirty so they could find their spot on the cruise line’s private island to spend the day.
From the look of her friend, Rosa wasn’t going anywhere.
“I won’t hate you.”
“Good.”
“But I’ll remind you of this tonight.”
Rosa curled up in a ball. “Let me die in peace.”
After a quick shower, Mari gave Rosa the solitude she needed.
Mari took her coffee and plate of food from the buffet outside to stare out at the water.
A couple of familiar faces waved as they walked by.
There hadn’t been too many quiet moments since she’d arrived on the ship. No real time to reflect. Which was exactly what she found herself doing.
Before going on this trip, Mari would have sworn she wasn’t in need of a vacation, or new experiences. She didn’t have a desire to foster new friendships and certainly never thought she’d be looking forward to a man’s company later that morning.
Yet that was exactly what she was doing.
Even though Mari had made it perfectly clear that romance was off the table, that didn’t stop James from seeking out her company.
It was nice.
Probably more than nice.
It was then Mari realized that she hadn’t thought of Paulo much at all. Yes, when James had asked questions about her life, but not at other times. Like when James stared a little too long, or placed an innocent hand on her arm or shoulder. Or moved close for a picture.
Perhaps she should feel something, guilt, unease . . . anything about starting a friendship with a man who wasn’t a neighbor, family member, or otherwise attached. And maybe that guilt would come.
In this environment, the cruise, the islands, the lack of family close by or responsibilities of life, it was easy to live without guilt.
Paulo would be chiding her if he were alive. “You should only be guilty for having a full life and not living it. My life has been short, but I lived it fully. Live yours, cara.”
Death has a way of making you wise, even when you’re young. Perhaps especially when you’re young.
Rosa had certainly embraced that mantra.
Slowly, Mari felt herself doing the same.
Paulo would be proud of her for going on this cruise and taking risks. He’d tell her it’s about time she did.
Mari finished her coffee, gave up on most of the food, and made her way back to her room to get what she needed for the day.
Wearing a wide-brim hat, sunglasses, and a swimsuit under her outfit, Mari made her way to the departing deck.
James was already there.
“Where’s Rosa?” he asked after they said their hellos.
“Hungover and sleeping.”
He smiled. “This doesn’t surprise me.”
“Me either.”
James cocked his head to the side. “Are you okay with it just being me today?”
“On a beach filled with hundreds of other people? I think I’ll be all right.”
James offered her an elbow. “Let’s do this.”
Mari put her arm through his and let him lead her down the bridge connecting the ship to the pier.
“Have you ever snorkeled before?” he asked.
“No.” But how hard can it be?
“Kayak?”
“At least twenty years ago.”
They stepped onto the dock and left the ship behind.
“This should be fun.”
James reminded himself that karma was real and, at the very same time, mentally thanked the universe for Rosa’s hangover.
He and Mari found a spot on the beach far away from the singles party crowd and the family groups with screaming children.
Because the cruise line owned the island, the food and drinks were included. And the equipment rentals were easily obtained.
They found an empty palapa that offered plenty of shade and thick cushions to relax on.
“Have you ever seen water so blue?” Mari asked once they set their things down.
“Yes,” James said. “Yesterday.”
She laughed and shook her head.
James pulled his shirt from his shoulders and stretched out.
Mari stretched out, too. Only she wasn’t as quick to shed the cover-up. What was it with women hiding behind a thin mesh fabric? The woman was beautiful.
“I hope you’re not bored with my company today,” she said. “I have a feeling I’ll doze off at some point.”
“If you’re comfortable enough around me to fall asleep, I’ll consider that a win.”
She diverted her attention away from him, but not before he caught her smile.
“Have you talked to your girls?”
“I sent them both text messages this morning.”
“No phone calls?”
James huffed. “Teenagers don’t realize the device in their pocket makes phone calls. My kids respond to text messages. Leaving a voice mail is like screaming for help in the middle of the ocean. They’ll never hear it. I’m convinced Ellie doesn’t even know how to retrieve her voice messages.”
“Chloe was like that. Until I threatened to take her phone away.”
“My girls know that would only be a threat. Their phones are more for my peace of mind than their social life,” James said.
“Little Italy is a small community. When I took Chloe’s phone away, there was always someone close by so I could reach her.”
“Torn between two homes makes that hard,” he explained.
“I can’t imagine,” she said. “Remember life before cell phones?”
The image of the house phone flashed in his memory. “We had one landline with a very long cord.”
“That stretched all the way to the bathroom, where you could get some privacy,” Mari finished for him.
“Exactly. And long-distance calls always happened at night since they were cheaper.”
Mari nodded. “And we’d make a collect call to let our parents know we arrived somewhere safe. But they wouldn’t accept the charges.”
James placed a hand on his head. “I forgot about that. I bet the operators hated those calls.”
“Do they even have operators anymore?” Mari asked.
“Naw. I think that was on the way out before the first car phone. Everything was automated by then.”
Mari crossed her legs and sat up. “I used to think that my grandparents had lived through the most innovative time in history. From wars to ease of travel. The telephone, film, and music. But when I look back on my own life, I think we’ve seen just as much, only different.
Life before cell phones and the internet.
Paying for anything with a swipe of our phones.
You couldn’t convince me that this was how we’d be living our lives. ”
“It makes me excited to see what the next forty years is going to do.”
“Your Madison will be on the ground floor of our future innovations. She’s the one that wants to be the rocket scientist, right?”
“You remembered.”
“And Ellie wants to play professional softball.”
James groaned. “I wish her head wasn’t in the clouds.”
Mari paused, tilted her head to the side. “If you can’t pursue your dreams when you’re young, when can you?”
“I suppose.”
“Did you ever wish you’d tried something and regret that you didn’t?” she asked.
“Of course. Marriage, children, a mortgage . . . these things have a way of forcing you into reality.”
“Then your Ellie needs to try before any of those things come along. No one wants to live a life of what-ifs. Besides, you never know what will happen. You said she’s good.”
James felt pride in his chest. “She is.”
“Then you support the softball. And encourage a second major in something practical she can fall back on. Even star athletes get hurt or retire young from their sport.”
Mari held a sparkle in her dark brown eyes when she spoke of something with passion.
“I think I need to take your advice.”
“No thinking about it. You absolutely do.”
If he smiled any wider, his cheeks were going to cramp up.
“Chloe studied yoga.” Mari stopped, rolled her eyes, and focused on him again. “Yoga. She started an online studio a couple of years ago. She’ll never get rich, but she’s happy. And when babies come, she can continue to work and be home with her children.”
James chewed on that for a minute. “I don’t want my girls to be dependent on a man.”
Mari didn’t miss a beat. “They will always have their father, and they can depend on you if the wrong man comes around.”
“And if I’m not here?” As soon as the words left his lips, James regretted them. Hadn’t that been Mari’s life after losing her husband?