“Get over yourself. You’re the one who keeps bringing it up.” I roll my eyes.
“Oh, no. I’ve only brought it up once. You’ve brought it up at least twice.”
With a sigh, I grab the bottom of his shirt and pull. “Shut up already and kiss me, will you?”
His mouth lowers to mine, muttering, “Yes, ma’am.”
All night, I toss and turn. Sleep eludes me as if it’s some hidden treasure I’m not worthy enough to find. Gregory tried to tell me before we left that sleeping on the ship is some of the best sleep ever; I have to disagree. I’m thoroughly exhausted and so glad we’re at sea today. I don’t know that I could handle getting off at port and exploring. Hopefully, I’ll be so tired by tonight, my body will have no choice but to succumb to the exhaustion. Not only that, but I feel off kilter and my head is killing me.
Brent stirs next to me. I roll over to face him and kiss his cheek just as he opens his eyes. “Happy birthday, old geezer.”
He smiles. “I’ll let you get away with that today, but only this once.” His eyes scan over my face. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, but do you feel okay? You don’t look too good.”
“I’m fine.” I’m not about to tell this man on his birthday that I have a headache from hell and I feel bad in general.
“Are you sure? You bumped into me a few times when you were tossing and turning, so I know you didn’t sleep well.”
“Maybe that’s how I sleep,” I quip back.
He raises an eyebrow at me. “Hon, you don’t move like you’re restless and need to go for a run in your sleep. I should know because this isn’t the first time we’ve shared a bed,” he reminds me. There’s a knocking sound from the balcony, which causes Brent to groan. “Our side is still closed. That means we don’t want to be bothered.”
“They probably want to wish you a happy birthday.”
He tosses the covers aside and steps onto the balcony to separate the partition.
“Happy birthday, Daddy!” I hear Kayla say.
And then, “Yeah, happy birthday, Dad,” Gregory says, sounding like he just woke up.
“Thanks.”
I turn my head to where he stands in time to see him hug them both.
“We have presents for you, but we left them at home because we didn’t want to add to the weight of our suitcases or get lost somehow,” Kayla tells him, causing him to nod and tell her that’s fine. Then, she asks, “When are we going to breakfast?”
“Ah.” Brent looks inside to me. Surely he isn’t trying to get out of breakfast with his kids. “I guess after everyone showers and gets ready.” With plans made, everyone returns to their rooms. Brent climbs back into bed and crawls over me. He kisses my forehead, my eyelids, my cheeks, and then my mouth. “I was hoping for morning birthday sex.”
“Maybe after breakfast.”
“Fine,” he growls, making me smile. “I’ll take my shower first. Maybe you can try to get a few more minutes of sleep.”
“You’re sweet.”
“Oh, sorry!” we hear from outside the glass doors. We glance over to see Gregory covering his eyes. He belatedly knocks. “Dad, can I talk to you?”
“I’ll take a shower first,” I say, wanting to give them privacy in case Gregory wants it.
Brent nods, gets off me, and goes to let Gregory in. “We were talking,” he says. “Wasn’t even under the covers with her.”
“Dad, I don’t want an explanation because then it’ll be burned into my mind.”
I laugh a little as I get out of bed, a surge of dizziness holding me in place for a moment before I’m able to go around to where we’ve stored our clothes just outside of the bathroom.
“Everything okay, son?” Brent asks while I find at least a clean bra and underwear. I’ll get the rest later.
“I wanted to let you know that Kayla’s a little pissed at you two.”
I open the bathroom door, step inside, but I don’t close it yet. What in the hell have we done?
“What the hell for?” Brent asks.
“Because you didn’t call our room to make sure I came back from the teen center soon after it closed last night.”
Things are quiet and then Brent asks, “Did you?” Gregory must nod or something because Brent says, “Good. I trust you’ll do as I ask on this trip and I also trust that if you don’t, your sister will let me know. No news is good news and all that mess.”
I decide I’ve been eavesdropping long enough and quietly close the bathroom door and start the shower. I don’t think I could ever get used to this shower. If my elbow isn’t hitting the wall, it’s hitting the curtain. When I lift my leg to shave and bend over, I scramble to grab onto whatever I can grab as a huge wave of dizziness and nausea crashes into me so hard. My legs must be shaved. If we end up having sex today, which is highly likely, I don’t want Brent touching prickly legs.
With slow, deep breaths, I manage to quickly get the job done and hurry to get the hell out. What is wrong with me? This can’t be happening on Brent’s birthday! It’s not until we’re on the top deck, walking to one of the dining rooms for breakfast and I have to grab onto Brent with both hands because I feel like I can’t walk properly with the boat rocking precariously from side to side when I realize that I’m the only one feeling this way. And then it hits me.
Motion sickness.
Whew. That’s all that’s wrong with me.
Except I feel absolutely terrible and we’re nowhere near our room.
“Honey, you okay? You’re pale.” He briefly looks to where I’m grasping onto him.
“I’m fine.” I can survive long enough until we get back to our room where I can tell him and get one those those patches he was telling me he has in case I need it. But I’m pretty sure I can’t walk without holding onto him. Not without feeling worse and wanting to fall over.
We get some hand sanitizer and get in the buffet line. I grab a plate and move my free hand to grab a fistful of Brent’s shirt on his back. He gives me a curious glance, which I return with a smile. We move throughout the area and I’m able to subtly get Brent to fill my plate by asking him, “Hey, will you put some on my plate too, please?”
With our plates full, we shuffle through the tables until we find where everyone else is already seated. Brent realizes we didn’t grab drinks and leaves to get us both something. Thank goodness I don’t have to go. Sitting is slightly better than standing, but not by much. I hope that patch will work quickly once I get it on. In the meantime, I have to figure out how to eat while feeling so nauseated.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt so terrible. How do people deal with this? They’re probably smarter than I am and put on a patch instead of waiting to see whether or not they’ll be subjected to seasickness. Brent returns and everyone begins to eat while I push the food around on my plate, struggling with the idea. The smell alone makes me want to run for the bathrooms. I did notice there is a women’s bathroom right outside the entrance to this room.
“Jamie, aren’t you going to eat?” Brent asks.
“Oh, yeah. Of course. I was just lost in my head.”
I cut a piece of French toast and that goes down okay. Maybe this won’t be as bad as I thought. That’s the jinxing thought I have two seconds before I put eggs in my mouth. My stomach revolts immediately. My reaction is all instinct with no thinking. My chair slides back, my hand clamps over my mouth as vomit pushes up my throat and my stomach clenches, and I rush through and around people to jog toward the bathroom.
Vomit coats my hand as I run into the bathroom and into the first open stall I see. The sound of the vomit falling into the toilet makes me cringe and puke again. I hold onto the walls of the stall for stability, feeling as if I might fall in any direction at a moment’s notice.
“Jamie? Are you okay?” Kayla asks from somewhere behind me.
My response is more vomit. When am I allowed to curl into a ball and cry? I’m over this. OVER IT.
“Is there anything I
can do for you?” Before I can ask for Brent, she gasps. “Oh my god. You aren’t pregnant, are you?” There’s no disgust in her voice, only pure curiosity and fear.
“No,” I answer in a scratchy voice.
“You’re sure? Even though Logan and I are so careful, I don’t think I could be sure without a test if I was in your situation. I mean you ate eggs and threw up. And it’s morning. This could be morning sickness, Jamie. Maybe we should find a doctor.”
“I’m not pregnant!” I yell. “Oh god,” I mutter, feeling like I might puke again.
Kayla doesn’t realize that, though. “What was that for? Did you realize you’ve missed your period or something? Are you sure you don’t want me to ask someone for a doctor?”
Thinking like maybe I only feel like I might vomit and I won’t actually do it right now, I storm out of the stall after flushing. “I’m not fucking pregnant, Kayla!” Being this exhausted and crummy makes me so cranky and irritated.
“But—”
“But nothing! I can’t have kids!” I blurt out while I wash my hands. “I’m not pregnant! It’s motion sickness!”
“Oh my god, Jamie,” she whispers.
I rush out of the bathroom, not wanting to hear anything else she has to say, and bump into Brent.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Get me away from her,” I demand.
He frowns and glances behind me as Kayla walks out. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I—”
“Now, Brent!” I screech, causing heads to turn in our direction.
“Okay, okay. We’re going.” His gaze flicks to Kayla one last time before we walk away from her. I cling to his arm again, not sure I’ll be able to make it back to our room.
“It’s motion sickness,” I mumble. “That’s why I haven’t felt well, but I didn’t realize it until we were on our way to eat. That’s all I want to say.”
“All right. I’ll get you something to take until the patch kicks in.”
We’re quiet the rest of the way to our room, while I brush my teeth, as I take the pill and Brent puts the patch on behind my ear. I curl into a ball in the middle of our bed and hope to feel better soon while also forgetting what happened with Kayla. Brent sits by my knees with a hand resting on my thigh.
“Someone will have to tell me what happened in that bathroom before today is over with,” he says.
I might as well get that over with so I can be miserable in peace. I rest my hand over my stomach. “I don’t like being forced to tell people.” Brent frowns in confusion, not understanding. I grab his hand, place it on my stomach, and cover it with mine. “I don’t like being forced to tell people,” I repeat.
“Oh, fuck,” he whispers as it dawns on him. “What the hell happened, Jamie?” he asks softly.
“She thought me being sick meant I was pregnant and wouldn’t take my word for it that I knew I wasn’t.” She was so insistent, too. It never occurred to her that I might be seasick, which is odd. That should be her first guess. I mean, hello, we’re on a ship and the waters are rough. I sit up as a horrible thought hits me. “You didn’t tell her and Gregory, did you?”
“What? No!”
“Are you sure? She all of a sudden decides to be nice to me and the first time I throw up on a ship she thinks I’m pregnant instead of the most obvious answer? Maybe she wanted me to let my guard down, so she can knock me down a peg or two.”
Brent grabs my face, his grip firm, but not too harsh. “I did not tell anyone and I can promise you, my daughter would never do such a thing to anyone.” Ugh. There’s that tone.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. And I am. There’s so much regret in me for not believing him the first time he denied it, I almost want to throw up again. “I’m upset and I don’t feel well.”
“It’s okay; I understand.” Brent sighs. He gets up, walks around, and crawls in behind me, holding me close against him. “You’ll feel better soon. See if you can sleep.” He kisses the back of my head.
A few minutes later, as I’m nodding off, he whispers, “I’m sorry, hon.” All I can think is that better be an apology for his daughter’s actions.
Jamie isn’t asleep twenty minutes when I hear our balcony door slide open and a whispered, “Daddy?” I crane my neck to see Kayla. Carefully, I disentangle myself from Jamie and get out of bed to meet her outside on the balcony, closing the door behind me. We take a seat in the blue chairs.
Before she can say one word, I demand, “Tell me exactly what happened.”
“She didn’t tell you?”
“Not everything.” For Jamie to think Kayla purposely made her tell her she couldn’t have kids, there has to be something more to what happened than the very basic details she told me. “Start from the beginning and don’t leave anything out,” I tell her.
“Well, I went to check on her like you asked. She was throwing up when I got there and I asked her if she was okay. She couldn’t answer because she was still throwing up. I asked her if I could do anything for her and then I don’t know. I wondered if she might be pregnant and blurted it out. She said no and I asked how if she was sure because,” Kayla hesitates, “even if you’re really careful, you should still take a test, you know. I said something about her eating eggs and throwing up because of that and how it was morning. It could’ve been morning sickness for all we knew and maybe we should find a doctor.
“But she yelled she wasn’t pregnant. Then, she said ‘Oh god’ and I thought she realized she missed her period and I said as much and asked again about the doctor. She came out, yelled at me she wasn’t pregnant and told me she couldn’t have kids, that it was only motion sickness. I feel terrible. She was so upset and looked like she was about to cry and couldn’t get away from me fast enough. I didn’t mean to upset her; I’ve been trying to be nice to her! I didn’t think about motion sickness because she’s been acting fine so far. You believe me, don’t you, Daddy?” Her eyes are hopeful, but most importantly, sincere.
“I do,” her shoulders sag with relief, “but it’s not me you have to worry about.”
“She doesn’t believe me? Why not?” she asks with a touch of anger.
“You can and should apologize to her. However, she’s been skeptical of you ever since you started being nice to her.” Kayla’s mouth opens in outrage and I hold up my hand. “You can’t blame her. If the situation was reversed and someone who had been bitchy to you for the past couple of months, all of a sudden started putting in an effort to be nice and get to you know, you wouldn’t be suspicious and wary? And now that this has happened, her guard is going to go up even higher, I think.”
“You may have a point,” she admits, looking out over the water. “Did you already know? I didn’t incidentally cause her to tell you, did I? Please tell me I didn’t because that’ll make me feel even worse.”
“I knew. I’ve known since shortly after I started seeing her. Since you accused us of starting a new family.”
Kayla winces at that.
And I too kinda forced her to tell me, but I’m beginning to think it’s different for Jamie because in my case, pregnancy was never the topic beforehand and she had no pressure to tell me. Okay, so maybe a little pressure.
“I really am sorry.”
I nod. “I know. I’m going to stay here with her until she feels better. You guys do whatever you want.”
She nods, stands, and hugs me.
Well, isn’t this a way to start my fortieth birthday. Nothing like what I was hoping or expecting. I need my little girl and my woman to get things settled because I’m officially at my limit. Jamie doesn’t want me talking to Kayla to make things better and I’m tired of doing it. I’m staying out of it, no matter what happens after this.
I return inside to lie with Jamie, grateful she’s getting some rest. She sleeps until nearly noon. She cuddles closer to me when she rouses awake.
“Feeling better?” I ask.
“Yes. I can still feel the rocking motion, but I don’t feel as ba
d.”
“Good.” I kiss her forehead. “Hungry?” Neither one of us had much of a breakfast and I’m starved. “We can grab something to eat and then figure out what we want to do next.”
“It’s your birthday and you’re the boss. I feel better so I’m game for anything now.”
I grin. “Oh, really?” My hand on her hip slips underneath her shirt and right up to her breast. “I do recall that sex was highly likely after breakfast.”
“I never had breakfast, though,” Jamie points out with a little laugh.
“Neither did I. Let’s go eat.”
We get out of bed and a few minutes later, we’re back in the dining room where breakfast was served to find a buffet for lunch.
“Hey! Look who it is!”
We turn to find Gregory also getting in line. He immediately hugs Jamie, startling her. “I’m sorry about my idiot sister,” I hear him say. “And I’m sorry about the other thing; I’m sure you would’ve made a great mom. Just felt like I needed to hug you and tell you that.” He releases her.
“Thanks, Gregory.”
“Are you feeling better?” he asks as we get hand sanitizer rubbed into our hands and then grab plates.
“Yes, much better.”
We move around picking out what we want before finding a table.
“What have you been doing all morning?” I ask him as we sit.
“I watched a movie on the top deck, but I’ve mostly been in the teen center. There’s a thing with the lumberjack after this. What are y’all going to do?”
“We haven’t decided.”
Gregory insists we should come with him to see the lumberjack, especially since we’re going to a show in Ketchikan tomorrow. He’s been carrying around an itinerary on what all is happening on the ship, so Jamie and I are able to look it over and decide what we might want to do after that. We could do a merengue dance class. There’s line dancing, a lecture on the ports, and a bingo game. All are possibilities before we have to get ready for formal night.
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