Chapter Ten #2
He didn’t need to worry, Mari had an answer to that, too. “You said it yourself. Your business is worth something, and if, God forbid, your life was cut short, your girls would be provided for.”
She made it sound so easy. “Are you always the voice of reason?” he asked.
“I am the matriarch of my family. When my children stop listening to me, it’s time for me to hand over my wand. But until then . . .”
“Pay for the cleats and the DI school.”
Mari nodded. “Exactly. Let the world disappoint her. That isn’t your job. Keep her safe, guide her, be there to pick up the pieces when she needs you. That is your job.”
James stared into Mari’s eyes, a soft smile on his face. “Your children are lucky.”
She didn’t agree or deny it. Mari simply smiled and turned to look out over the ocean.
Like on the ship, a waiter walked around the beach, offering drinks.
Mari waved them off, stating she’d drunk enough to last her half the year since arriving on the ship.
Other than wine.
Apparently, Italians didn’t really consider wine alcohol.
James made a mental note to find a decent bottle to share with her before the cruise ended. Preferably with a dinner for two.
They found a taco bar for lunch. Opted out of the kayak but donned snorkel masks and waded into the crystal-blue water to look at the fish willing to swim close to the rocks that divided up the beach.
Mari had tucked her hair into a short ponytail but lost the binding the first time she pulled her mask off. From that moment on, every time she removed her head from the water, her hair spilled around her mask.
Twice James brushed it away.
Twice Mari let him.
They stayed out of the sun more than in it. The palapa made it easy to avoid a sunburn.
After their short stint of looking at what lived under the sea, Mari wrapped her shoulders in her cover-up and reapplied the sunblock lotion everywhere else.
James considered asking if she needed help with the sunscreen in places she couldn’t reach but held back.
As much as he wanted to know if her skin was as soft as he imagined it would be, he wasn’t about to push knowing for certain.
The day went by entirely too fast, but eventually, it was time to work their way back to the ship.
“This was the perfect day,” he started.
“It was. Quiet and relaxing. Just what I needed after all the go, go, go since we boarded in Florida.”
“You made it perfect.”
She blinked twice and hesitated.
“Do those words scare you?”
He could see that they did . . . on some level.
“They shouldn’t. I know they’re not meant to.”
They kept walking.
James let her process whatever was going on in her head.
“I wouldn’t have enjoyed today nearly as much sitting there alone. But I know that isn’t what you mean,” she finally said.
“Not just anyone makes a day perfect.”
“I know,” she said, looking away. “You made today special, too. Can we leave it at that . . . for now?”
James wanted to fist-bump the sky. “Absolutely.”
The bridge to board the ship was much busier than it was when they left.
They approached the person scanning their badges, but when Mari’s ID was checked, a yellow light instead of a green one lit up.
The attendant looked at her ID again. “Mrs. D’Angelo?”
“Yes? Is there a problem?”
“No. Not at all.” But instead of waving her along, the attendant used a radio and said something James didn’t quite catch into it. “Can you wait here a moment?”
James moved closer to her side. “Is there something wrong?”
The person behind Mari scanned their badge and was waved through.
“Our concierge would like to speak with you.”
“Concierge? About what?” she asked.
Another guest scanned and walked past.
Before James could ask any more questions, the employee in question approached with a wide smile on her face. “Mrs. D’Angelo. Thank you for waiting. I’m Astrid.”
“What is this about?” Mari asked before James could.
“Please, if I can have a moment of your time?”
James didn’t think “No” would be an accepted answer.
Astrid directed them both from the entrance of the ship to a corridor away from the other passengers.
Mari took a quick glance over her shoulder at him, her eyes wide.
Was there a problem at home?
An emergency?
James brushed his fingers against Mari’s arm.
She immediately took hold of them and squeezed.
Taking that as permission, he kept her hand in his as Astrid opened a door to an employee-only room.
As soon as the door closed, Mari’s question came out in a rush. “Did my family call? Is something wrong?”
“I’m sorry to worry you. No. Nothing like that.” Astrid pointed to a sofa. “Do you want to sit?”
“We want to know what’s going on,” James said with less patience than he expected.
Astrid smiled. “It’s your roommate.”
“Rosa?”
Mari squeezed James’s hand tighter.
He placed his other hand on her shoulder.
“She alerted our staff that she wasn’t feeling well.”
“She drank a little too much last night. Was out late.”
“Exactly what she said. She assumed a hangover was the cause of her discomfort. But then she developed a fever.”
James waited for something bigger than a fever to drop.
“A fever?” Mari asked. Her voice sounded as confused as his thoughts.
“Yes. That, along with a stomach illness, is something we need to quickly isolate on board. If an outbreak occurs . . . well, I’m sure you’ve heard the news in worst-case scenarios.”
“Is Rosa okay?” Mari asked.
“She’s resting in her room. Please, what I’m about to tell you, I need you to keep to yourselves. Panic is the second thing we fear as cruise staff.”
“We can stay silent,” Mari said for both of them.
Astrid’s smile wasn’t as big now. “We have about a dozen passengers with Rosa’s symptoms. Our infirmary isn’t designed to keep that many. We’ve asked Rosa to isolate in your stateroom. Our doctor and his staff will treat her there.”
“But she’s okay?” Mari asked again.
“She’s resting. I’ve seen these situations many times in my years. Most cases turn out to be nothing that would require much more than fever reducers, hydration, and sleep for a few days. But if you’ve had children, you know how much this kind of thing can spread. And with a ship this full . . .”
“You can’t take those chances,” James said.
“We can’t. Which is why we’ve singled you out before you return to your room. With your permission, the doctor would like to see you before you rejoin the rest of the passengers.” It was then that Astrid looked directly at James. “Your name is?” she asked.
“James Russell.”
She looked between the two of them. “You’ve spent the day together?”
“Yes.”
Astrid squinted her eyes with a tight smile. “We’ll want to test you as well.”
James let out a long breath. “Of course. I feel fine, though.”
“I’m not sick either,” Mari said. “But I’m okay with your doctor making sure.”
“Thank you,” Astrid said with a sigh. “If you can just wait here.”
Astrid left them alone in the room.
Mari released James’s hand and sat in one of the chairs. “I thought for sure she was going to tell me something was wrong at home.”
James sat beside her. “That’s where my thoughts went.”
“Poor Rosa. I thought she was just hungover.”
“It might be a combination of both a stomach bug and too much tequila.”
Mari lowered her chin to her chest. “I need to remind my friend that we’re not as young as we once were.”
The door to the room opened, and a short man wearing an officer uniform followed Astrid inside.
The Greek doctor made an introduction and quickly pulled out what he needed to take their vital signs and ask them several questions.
With nothing but good health and maybe a bit of excessive sun exposure, he deemed both of them healthy enough to avoid quarantine.
“However, if it is possible for you to avoid any large crowds this evening, we would appreciate your efforts. We’ll make a dinner reservation at one of the specialty restaurants for you both, on us. They are a bit quieter. Nothing like the buffet or main dining room.”
“That would be fine,” Mari said.
James nodded his approval.
“Now, about your stateroom . . .” Astrid started.
“She can’t go back in there,” James said. Mari was bound to get ill and spend the rest of the cruise stuck in her room.
“That does pose a bit of a problem. We did have a few rooms that weren’t filled but now are with the other guests that roomed with the sick passengers. Are you traveling with anyone else? Someone who you can stay with?”
Mari started to talk.
James stopped her.
“She can stay with me.”
Mari quickly turned her head. “I can’t do—”
“I’m in a suite, Mari. The bedroom is separate from the living room.” James looked at Astrid. “The sofa turns into a bed, correct?”
“It does. That would be perfect.”
Mari put a resistant hand in the air. “I can’t put you out like that.”
“You’re not putting me out. I basically have three of your staterooms all to myself. You can take the bed. I’ll sleep on the sofa. It’s not a big deal.” In James’s head, the problem was solved.
“But—”
“If the shoe was on the other foot, would you suggest I sleep on the sofa in your room?”
Mari shook her head as if what he was saying was ridiculous. “Of course. I mean . . .” Her words trailed off. Her shoulders relaxed. “Of course.”
“Wonderful,” Astrid said. “We’ll have your things removed from the room. We’re happy to launder any clothing for you.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Mari said.
“We insist.”
In other words, hand over your crap so we can bleach the hell out of it so the entire ship doesn’t go on lockdown and get quarantined ten miles offshore for weeks on end.
He could see an argument boil in Mari’s expression.
“Do you have clothing Mari can wear while you’re decontaminating her belongings?” James asked.
“We’ll have something delivered to your room,” Astrid said.
“Thank you,” the doctor said. “Any symptoms at all. Please alert the staff right away.”
“We will,” James answered for them both.
The doctor left while Astrid lingered. “Do you have a preference on where to dine tonight?”
“Italian,” Mari said quickly. “Wait. Is the chef Italian?”
“From Rome, I believe.”
“Bene. I need comfort food,” Mari told James.
James smiled. “And a good bottle of wine.”
“Red,” Mari added.
“Consider it done. And thank you again for your cooperation in keeping this quiet.”
James narrowed his eyes, turned to Astrid. “You said panic was the second thing you feared breaking out on board. What is the first?”
“A stomach virus.”