by Jan Thompson
Logan made a mental note to call his cousin to see if there had been any prospective land in metro Atlanta. Or Fulton County. Or Hall County where the property taxes were low—
The screen blacked out.
“No, no, no!” He should have recharged the battery overnight. He knew it has been red for a while, but he was confident he wouldn’t run out of juice.
He let out a growl.
Someone tapped his shoulder. There was Marie’s outstretched hand, offering him a battery pack.
“Lifesaver.” Logan plugged it into his phone. “Thanks.”
Marie simply nodded. On her lap, Jonas was sleeping, his long legs looking for a place to stretch. That boy would probably grow up to be as tall a Logan—or taller.
“What else do you carry in that purse?” Logan asked.
She smiled but said nothing.
Chapter Eleven
When the tour bus stopped at the dock, Jonas bounced right out of his seat after his power nap. Now he wanted his daddy to carry him. Marie didn’t like to hear him whine.
“Whose bright idea was it to go from a salmon bake to whale watching?” Logan frowned.
“Yours, brilliant one,” Marie said.
“I’m going to be so wiped out by the time we get back to the ship. Not sure if I can eat dinner.”
Marie said nothing. She and Logan were different there. When Logan was tired, he chatted non-stop. When she was tired, she didn’t speak.
Which also meant she wasn’t in the mood for a conversation.
In fact, at this moment, her eyes looked longingly away into the distance, toward the row of cruise ships at the nearby port. She could skip the whale watching trip, get a taxi cab or Uber ride back to their ship, go to her stateroom, and take a nap.
This jet lag was making her groggy at all the wrong times of the day.
Still, they exited the bus, looking like a proper family.
Logan carried Jonas on his shoulders, and led the way down the steps of the dock to the double-decker catamaran. The boat was crowded, mostly with cruise ship passengers.
Marie recognized a few faces from their ship’s dining room, poolside, and children’s play area.
“Mommy!” Still clinging to his dad’s head, Jonas pointed. “My new friend Abdul. See him?”
Well, Marie might be a few inches shorter than Logan, but Jonas’s head cleared both of theirs. She faced the direction where Jonas had pointed, but saw no hijab, no entourage, no Abdul. Still, she nodded, giving her son the benefit of doubt.
After a snack of smoked wild Alaskan salmon on crackers—delicious!—they made their way to the top deck to find somewhere to sit. Jonas was too excited for words, and Marie was only too happy to let Logan deal with him. It was past Jonas’s nap time, and that second wind was wearing down Marie.
It didn’t even faze Logan. He was calm and collected, and let Jonas bounce all over him.
Oddly enough, he hadn’t used his phone once on the trip out on the catamaran, and neither had he returned the phone charger to her.
With Jonas between them making noise, there had been no opportunity for Marie and Logan to talk.
Just as well.
Some things could never be the same again.
All they had between them was Jonas.
Someday, Jonas would be eighteen, go to college, and then that was the end of it.
Marie closed her eyes, and nearly fell asleep, except for the fidgety Jonas next to her. He was yakking away about whales and whatever.
Over the intercom, the announcement came about their arrival somewhere.
For some reason, Marie didn’t feel like leaving her seat. “I’ll stay right here and take a nap.”
Jonas looked like he was about to cry.
“What?” Marie wrinkled her eyebrow. Clearly she had missed all the instructions Jonas had been trying to give her.
“You’re coming with us. Now, Mommy.”
The crowd around them moved outside.
“I want to be in front,” Jonas said.
Marie sighed. She didn’t want to spoil the party.
She was surprised when Logan reached out and pulled her to her feet, like an invitation to a dance…
Chapter Twelve
The humpback whale calls were difficult to imitate, but Logan and Jonas made a go at it and tried their best as they watched the whales breach the water surface and then splash back into their comfort zone.
In unison, father and son made a mess of the whale song. Logan knew they were laughable, but it had made Jonas happy that Dad had sung along.
“You two sound like some pathetic frogs trapped in a sewer,” Marie said, almost nonchalantly.
Logan glanced at Jonas.
“I’m a whale, not a frog!” Jonas spread his arms wide.
Now he looked like a stampeding elephant in the crowd of tourists on the catamaran, but Logan wasn’t about to say anything. He waited for Marie to do the honors.
This time, Marie didn’t say a word.
Jonas tried his whale song again, alone. Somewhere in the crowd someone laughed. It was probably about something else, but somehow it affected Jonas. His face sagged. He began to cry.
Logan swept him up into his arms and pointed toward the swimming whales, now squirting water into the air. “Look at that, Jonas!”
He had no idea what Marie was doing behind them now, but he didn’t care. This trip, this cruise, was primarily for Jonas. It was part of his boy’s birthday present, and Logan was determined to make it count.
Their cruise had barely started—well, it was the third day—and the last thing Logan wanted was a pouty kid to take home this weekend.
Why can’t Marie just play along?
A hand touched his arm. He didn’t have to look. He knew who that hand belonged to.
I so miss her touch.
But it was over between them.
The hand remained on his arm.
He didn’t hear her say anything, but he knew she was sorry about what she had blurted without thinking. He wanted to tell her it was okay, but it wouldn’t be true.
It wasn’t okay. Their son was only five years old, and took things literally. Logan felt sorry that Marie hadn’t had the privilege of being mommy to Jonas.
Whose fault is that?
Certainly not his. He had done all he could to save the marriage. Marie had wanted out long before they had met the marriage counselor at church.
She had checked out of their marriage as soon as her maternity leave was over, always gone on assignments in Europe. Logan couldn’t imagine what was so important that she couldn’t take time off to be with her son or her husband.
If Logan had known that she would be in absentia, he wouldn’t have married her at all.
Then again…
Here they were, like a family again.
Jonas in his arms.
His wife by his side—
Ex-wife.
Logan watched Marie—oblivious to his thoughts—pull out her phone and take photos.
No, she was filming a video.
He followed her gaze.
She was pointing at the whales, the sea, the sky, and then at the people all around them, then to the mountain ranges in the distance, and then back to the people and crowd.
Back and forth.
Logan wondered what on earth she was up to, panning across the crowd, but he didn’t want to spoil the moment—whatever moment it seemed to be.
On the ride back to shore, they listened to a lecture on whale baleen. Logan thought that Jonas might be excited to see how big and long a baleen really was, but the boy was fast asleep.
And so was Marie.
Her head rested right on his other shoulder. Just like she used to do a long time ago when they had traveled together on trains across Europe. In between her assignments as a translator and his business meetings, they had taken excursions with some friends.
Logan remembered their favorite spot in Budapest, the city where they ha
d their first kiss. It had seemed like ages ago, though it had only been six or seven years.
The memory surprised him.
Maybe, just maybe, there was still something left between him and Marie…
Nah.
They had parted ways under a cloud of distrust and mistrust. Unresolved problems did not a happy relationship make.
Still, Marie had been a good sport all day—for the most part.
He remembered her faraway stares on the tour bus earlier this afternoon, like she had longed for something missing.
Truth be told, he did too.
He had their son to raise. But more than him, Logan wanted his wife back.
But how, Lord Jesus? How?
Marie’s head shifted on his shoulder, and now her hands wrapped around his arm. He didn’t move at all, in case she stirred and left his side.
Lord, our marriage broke and shattered. Can You put it together again?
Immediately, Logan answered his own question.
Sure, You can, Lord.
But would it be best for us?
Chapter Thirteen
Back onboard the cruise ship, they had almost ordered room service, but Jonas woke up from his second power nap of the day to declare that he wanted to eat dinner with his new friend, Abdul.
Mrs. Ping tried to get him to sleep until four o’clock—only fifteen minutes away—but it was a fruitless exercise in frustration.
Marie felt sorry for Jonas because he was an only child. Accompanied by three adults—Dad, Mom, and a nanny—Jonas didn’t have his regular friends from kindergarten back in Atlanta with him.
After listening to Jonas whine for two minutes, Marie gave in. “Dinner isn’t until six o’clock. Maybe he could play with his friends for a little bit, if we can coordinate the time. Do you happen to know how to contact them?”
Mrs. Ping didn’t know, but Jonas did.
“Abdul said he’s going to be in the playroom when they get back,” Jonas said in some weird kid’s voice that didn’t sound natural. It was whiny, and grated on Marie.
“Who taught him to whine?” Marie blurted to Mrs. Ping.
“I don’t know, ma’am.” Suddenly formal, Mrs. Ping busied herself with putting away Jonas’s sneakers in their small closet.
Who else but Logan? Spoiling our son.
“Jonas, say that again in a normal tone,” Marie said. “I don’t speak whiny language.”
Jonas’s lips quivered.
Mrs. Ping interjected and offered to take Jonas to the playroom to meet his friend, Abdul.
“No, Mrs. Ping. I will take him myself—but only after he stops whining.”
Everyone was silent.
“Mommy,” Jonas said in a normal voice.
“Yes, son?”
“May we go to the playroom?”
“Of course.” Marie reached for his hand.
Jonas jumped up and down.
“Go to the spa or something,” Marie told Mrs. Ping. “We’ll see you at dinner.”
“But I’m paid to do this.”
Even as the nanny protested, Marie could tell that she would welcome extra time off.
“Don’t worry. When I go home to France, you’ll have your hands full twenty-four seven. Enjoy your rare days off, yes?”
Nodding, Mrs. Ping started tidying up the stateroom.
“They have stewards for that,” Marie told her.
“I know.”
“Don’t clean the bathrooms while you’re trying to get something done. Go to the spa. I’ll pay for it.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Marie.”
And then mother and son skipped happily out of the stateroom, toward the elevator.
Holding hands with an exuberant and chatty child was something Marie had missed for several years. The last time she had spent any time alone with her son, he had been in diapers.
Chatty, he had not been.
She wondered if Jonas had taken after Logan more.
As for Marie, she had always been the quiet, observant one. Preferring to listen rather than talk, her own personality had served her well in her profession.
The one Logan doesn’t know about.
Chapter Fourteen
Sitting at the Lego table with Jonas, across from the hijab-wearing woman—who had introduced herself through her assistant as simply Aliyah with no last name—Marie was certain that the Middle Eastern mother had more to say to her, but either her English was not so good or she wasn’t allowed to talk to strangers.
“Do you speak French?” Marie asked, trying to build some sort of bridge.
Aliyah shook her head.
That told Marie that Aliyah understood her question in English.
She glanced at the assistant sitting next to Aliyah. It was the same woman who had accompanied her and the two kids. Their facial features were alike, and Marie had almost mistaken them to be related.
Aliyah had called the woman her assistant, but left it at that. Marie wanted to ask what kind of assistant she was, but she did not want to raise any suspicion about her own curiosity.
For all she knew, there was nothing going on beneath the surface, although in Marie’s mind, Aliyah’s assistant behaved more like a handler who had censored Aliyah’s words and phrases when she translated on the fly from Arabic to English. Perhaps to protect her? Or was it something else?
It was a not a good thing for the two ladies that Marie could understand Arabic.
Aliyah’s two boys and Jonas decided to leave the Lego table to build a megastructure on a giant round rug mere feet away from them, where several other kids were playing. They didn’t have the same language barriers as the adults. They spoke Lego, and they spoke playtime.
Marie could now cast her vote for their country of residency. It could be the United Kingdom, but it could also be any of the European countries, whose citizens spoke English more British than American. One thing she was quite sure of: the boy did not speak Australian English.
“I left my camera in my room. Could you get it for me?” Aliyah asked her assistant in Arabic. “I want to take photos of Abdul to send to his father.”
“I cannot leave you, your highness.”
Your highness?
Marie’s face was still turned toward the three boys at play. She smiled and clapped along when Jonas cheered, like she wasn’t paying attention to the two women at her table.
“If you give me back my phone, I will call Zaid to get my camera,” Aliyah suggested.
If you give me back my phone…
Marie pretended she didn’t understand their conversation in Arabic. She didn’t even look at Aliyah, but she could sense that the princess’s voice was somewhat under duress.
It struck Marie as strange. Why was Aliyah not allowed her own phone?
Is she a prisoner? Surely not on a cruise ship.
The translator called the man named Zaid. “I don’t know where it is. Look for it. I cannot leave here, and Abdul is still playing.”
A few minutes later, one of the three guards, whom Marie had seen at the poolside the day before, walked into the playroom. He was carrying a GoPro camera. He glanced at Marie, then at Aliyah and her aide.
Marie tried to commit his name and face to memory. Zaid.
She wondered what sort of photos were in the GoPro camera—
Stop!
I’m on holiday—vacation—whatever!
“Mommy, look!” Jonas waved what looked like a clump of Lego blocks stuck together. “Guess what this is?”
Oh, no. Don’t make me guess, son. “Uh…a ball?”
“Noooo…” Jonas looked hurt, as though his mom had to guess it right at first try.
“I’ll take a picture of it.” Marie walked toward Jonas, snapping away with her iPhone.
“Is it a boat?” She walked around Jonas, taking more photos—with Aliyah and her escorts around her at the table.
“Nooo, Mommy. Guess again.” Jonas made a whooshing sound.
&nb
sp; “A plane?” Snap. Snap.
Jonas made a face at his poor mom. “A helicopter!”
Marie laughed. “I would never have guessed.”
Snap. Snap.
She pocketed her phone as soon as the man—Zaid, right—started walking toward her. She quickly knelt down by Jonas. “Want me to build a plane?”
Jonas nodded his head vigorously. “Then we can have an air battle!”
Marie sat right in the middle of the group of kids, picked up a few Lego blocks and tried to make the best of it. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Zaid backing off.
Aliyah was saying something to him, but Marie couldn’t hear her, on account of the noisy kids.
When she showed her Lego pieces to her son, Marie stole a look past his ears.
The assistant motioned for Zaid to leave the room.
Ah, so we know who’s in charge, calling the shots.
It certain fit the narrative in Marie’s mind that the assistant is Aliyah’s handler. She could also be her personal protector, technically speaking. But it begged the question why. Why were they in Alaska, on this particular cruise?
Pretty soon, a couple of children younger than Jonas had joined the big play rug. For some reason, one of the little girls sat down on Marie’s lap.
“That’s my mommy,” Jonas declared.
Nice to be acknowledged.
When Marie looked up to ask Aliyah to join them, she was gone. Did she leave with Zaid?
The assistant came over, calling for the two boys, telling them it was time to leave.
The boys fussed, but she said they had to get ready for dinner. Their meal with special dietary needs would be ready for them soon, and their mother wouldn’t want their food to be cold.
It all sounded normal.
Marie smiled and waved goodbye to the assistant, but was ignored.
Well, you have a nice evening too.
Chapter Fifteen
