When she sat down, a group of teenagers got up, laughing and acting silly. They belted out a horribly off-key rendition of “Sweet Caroline.” The audience ate up their antics, many people singing along. Juanita’s fears eased. She might not be great, but she could certainly do better than that.
Ryan went up to a table at the front and returned with a big notebook. “These are the songs they have available.”
Juanita flipped through the long, alphabetically ordered list, scanning the titles. It seemed like every song she recognized was either a heartfelt love song or a bitter break-up lament. She didn’t think she could handle either of those. The few she spotted that appealed to her were either low bass or screechy soprano in range. She got to the end and started working back toward the beginning.
“Want to do a duet?” Ryan whispered over a man singing “Achy Breaky Heart.”
“Sure.” Finally Juanita spotted a song she thought would work. The bleak lyrics fit her mood without being specifically about love or its loss. “How about ‘Dust in the Wind’ by Kansas? I sing along whenever I hear it on the radio.”
“Perfect. I’ll go sign us up.” Ryan reclaimed the notebook and headed back to the table at the front.
Juanita nearly chickened out several dozen times while they waited for their turn. A woman belted a masterful rendition of “You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman” that brought the audience to its feet, hooting and cheering. A skinny boy who couldn’t have been more than fifteen opened his mouth and a rich, deep bass emerged, singing “I Walk the Line.” A group of women with drinks in their hands had a blast harmonizing on “Mamma Mia.” But between those high points were enough enthusiastic but mediocre performances to reassure Juanita. She and Ryan might not stand out as stars, but they wouldn’t make fools of themselves, either.
Finally the announcer called their names. Juanita clutched Ryan’s hand and forced her legs to carry her forward. This was just like opening night of a new show, she told herself sternly. A few bars into the music her fear would drain away and she’d be fine.
Sure enough, as Ryan’s voice joined hers on the opening lines, her racing heart steadied. She sucked in air for breath support and concentrated on making the notes strong and smooth. On the second verse, Ryan dropped to sing harmony below her melody, and the beauty of the music they were making drove everything else out of her heart.
Instead of falling silent during the instrumental break, Juanita crooned along with the soaring strings. Ryan joined in, taking the counterpoint. Their voices twined together, weaving up and down, improvising wordless chords so gorgeous they brought tears to Juanita’s eyes.
As their voices soared together on the final verse, Juanita found odd comfort in the bleak lyrics. Only earth and sky were eternal. Everything else faded away. Clinging to the present was useless, for nothing could stop the relentless progression of time. The wind carried off life and love, joy and sorrow, hope and despair, and all you could do was open your hands and let them go.
Ryan’s arm went around her waist as they let the final note trail away to silence. The crowd was still for a breathless second, then broke into applause. To Juanita’s ear it sounded genuinely appreciative. She smiled at Ryan, trying to put everything she couldn’t say into her gaze. His eyes were deep and his expression tender. She knew he understood.
They returned to their seats and listened to a few more songs, but when Ryan looked at her questioningly and tilted his head toward the door, Juanita nodded. They slipped out and made their way through the quiet corridors to their room.
Both of them were subdued as they got ready for bed. Juanita took all but one sundress off the hangers and packed them in her suitcase. Her shoes fit around the edges, stuffed with unworn underwear and socks. Dirty clothes took up one whole side. She retrieved Carmen’s bikini from the bathroom. Maybe her sister would let her keep it. Juanita had gotten used to having her tummy bare.
Ryan pulled their purchases out of the cabinets and spread them on the bed, sorting them into two piles. Juanita tucked the presents for her family among her clothes. Once everything was divided, Ryan packed his items. He insisted Juanita take one of the bottles of rum that had been returned to their room, and more than half of the chocolate. Finally he pressed the vase into her hands. “You take this. I don’t have room in my suitcase. And it belongs to both of us, so it doesn’t matter who packs it.”
Juanita stroked the beautifully patterned ceramic. She wanted to protest, but couldn’t without bringing up things that they’d agreed to wait until morning to discuss. “Okay.”
She wrapped the vase in a t-shirt and squeezed it into the center of her suitcase where it would be well protected. She’d find a way to put it with his things tomorrow, hopefully without Ryan noticing. He’d paid for it, so he should be the one to keep it. It could remind him of her and the few precious days they’d spent together.
Ryan swiped his phone’s screen. “What time do you want me to set an alarm for? We have to be out of our cabin by eight, but they’re only serving breakfast in the dining room until eight thirty.”
“Set it for six thirty, and we’ll plan to eat at seven thirty.” So early. When they woke, the ship would already be docked in Galveston.
“Got it.” Ryan set his phone on the bedside table and watched her pack the last few things she wouldn’t need in the morning. She hoped the suitcase would close. Half the stuff Carmen had packed Juanita hadn’t touched.
Finally she pulled off her clothes, rolled them up, and added them to the dirty items. She took a final long look around the room, decided there was nothing more she could do that night, switched off the light, and slid into bed beside Ryan. He turned off the lamp, and darkness enveloped them.
Juanita snuggled into his body, pressing every inch of her skin she could into his. His strong arms encircled her and held her close. She listened to his heartbeat, slow and steady. She wasn’t going to think about endings. She was going to try not to think at all. Only feel and be.
Eventually they started to move, gentle strokes and slow, aching caresses. Only deep breaths and soft sighs disturbed the night’s silence. Juanita worked to memorize her lover’s body, every surface and angle and crease of him, every scent and flavor and texture. His long, deliberate touches and lingering kisses told her he was doing the same.
He was so dear to her. She was so glad she’d met him, so profoundly grateful he’d become a part of her life. Nothing could ever change the fact that it had happened. These few days were real, a moment fixed in space and time, a truth that would always be a part of the universe. They would remain eternally at the heart of her life, no matter how long it might endure. Knowing Ryan had changed her profoundly. Like a butterfly who’d emerged from its chrysalis, she had neither the ability nor the desire to go back to what she’d been before.
Finally, when neither of them could bear to remain separate any longer, he moved on top of her and slid inside. She held him to her heart, rocking with him in a slow, primal rhythm. For a long, long time they breathed together, in and out, soaking in the joy of their union.
At last, though, their bodies could no longer be denied. Juanita quit calming the storm and let it build, high and hot and sweet. It burst like a summer shower, drenching her with sparkling, rushing floods. Ryan followed like thunder after lightning, pouring into her in a long, deep rumble. They floated together on the sunlit ocean until the last rays faded into starlit night.
CHAPTER 17
Ryan waited until after they’d placed their breakfast orders to broach the subject. He dreaded what Juanita would say, but it couldn’t be put off any longer. “Juanita, I think you know that I would very much like to continue our relationship after today. I don’t care if it’s casual or serious. I don’t know where it will take us. I just know I want you to stay part of my life.” He swallowed. “If that’s what you want, too.”
She clutched her glass of orange juice, staring at it as if the secrets of the universe were contained i
n its sunny depths. Her voice was barely louder than a whisper. “Ryan, this cruise has been amazing. I’ve loved every minute we’ve spent together. If things were different, I would accept gladly.” She took a deep breath and swallowed. “But they’re not.”
He’d feared that would be her answer, and was ready with countering arguments. “I don’t care about whatever minor risk I’m taking by staying in touch with you. Once we and Carmen get through customs, there’s practically zero chance Immigration will find you. But even if they do, I want to be at your side through whatever happens. That’s my choice to make. I don’t need you to protect me.”
She raised her glass to her lips and took several deep gulps. Long seconds passed before she set it down again. “I’m not protecting you. I’m protecting me. If Immigration ever does figure out what we did, it will lead them straight to you. If we’re still in touch, even a little bit, you’ll lead them to me.” She clenched her fists. “I’m not willing to take that risk. I’ll do anything to avoid being arrested and deported again. Even give you up.”
Her words stabbed like a rapier through his heart, but he couldn’t argue with them. He knew how deeply her experience had traumatized her. He knew how much she feared its repetition. And he couldn’t pretend her fear was unrealistic. What she’d described wasn’t terribly likely, but it could happen.
Which meant he had no choice but to accept her decision.
He reached for her tensely balled hand and stroked it. “And I’ll do anything to keep you safe.” He swallowed. “Even give you up.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
Heartbreak was calmer than he’d imagined. Ryan felt empty and numb, but also strangely at peace. He pulled his hand back. “So how are we going to handle things after we leave the cruise terminal? Carmen and I drove together to Galveston in my car. Her car is parked at your mother’s house, along with yours. The plan was that I would drive you there, and you would stay with your parents for a while. Until you find a new place. Or until…” He spread his hands.
Juanita nodded. “I would appreciate it if you give me a ride. Or I can get an Uber. Whatever’s convenient for you.”
“I don’t have any plans for the rest of today. There’s no need for you to spend your money when we’re both going the same way. Your parents’ house is only about twenty minutes from my apartment.”
She chuckled wanly. “Practically next door.”
She fell silent. Ryan tried to think of something else to say, but couldn’t. Luckily their food arrived before the quiet grew too oppressive.
They ate quickly, then returned to their room to retrieve their suitcases. Ryan made a final circuit to be sure they hadn’t forgotten anything. The room was as bare and sterile as it had been when he and Carmen had first entered it. This afternoon someone else would be moving in. They’d have no clue how much joy and tragedy had taken place within these walls.
They rolled their suitcases to their assigned waiting area on the promenade deck. After only a short wait, the tenth floor was called to disembark. Ryan flashed Juanita an encouraging grin, although his heart was pounding. “Here we go. Remember, no one has any reason to suspect anything. You look more like the picture on Carmen’s driver’s license than she does. Give the customs official a bored, patient smile and think about what a pain in the ass going through this whole stupid rigmarole is.”
She nodded, not smiling, but looking a lot more composed than he’d expected. He’d been concerned she would revert to the panicked terror she’d exhibited in Cozumel, but that clearly wasn’t going to be a problem.
Instead, the terror seemed to have found a home in Ryan’s chest, along with the panic. What if they were wrong? What if customs officials were chosen for their ability to spot minuscule differences in people’s faces? What if they were trained to pick up the subtlest signs of guilt? What if Juanita’s cool demeanor passed inspection, but his panting, sweating, trembling agitation triggered their suspicions?
He managed to keep himself under control while they rode the elevator to the atrium, shuffled through the exit with the rest of the crowd, and rolled their suitcases down the long, enclosed ramp that bridged the space between the ship and the cruise terminal. Everyone made their way through the drab concrete interior of the building, across the big open space where those who’d checked their luggage could reclaim it from the vast array of suitcases ranged in neat lines, to where signs hanging from the ceiling and stripes painted on the floor directed them to stand in line and wait to pass through customs.
It was going to take a while. Several hundred people were ahead of them, the line winding back and forth through the large hall as if they were at an amusement park, waiting to board a ride. Ryan’s heart was hammering as hard as if the Texas Titan rose ahead instead of a brief, cursory inspection.
Juanita glanced at him, then back at the line. “Makes me miss Astroworld,” she commented.
He laughed, startled. “I was just thinking that this reminded me of a line for a roller coaster. Although I was imagining Six Flags Over Texas.”
She grimaced. “I’ve never been there. But we had a season pass to Astroworld one summer when I was little. Mom would take us on weekdays when it wasn’t so crowded and we’d ride every ride four or five times in a row. I was just a tiny bit too short to be allowed on the best coasters, so I made her buy me some sandals with really thick soles so my head would reach the mark on the measuring stick.”
Ryan chuckled. “Why am I not surprised? We went a lot when I was young, too, before they closed the park. Greezed Lightnin’ was my favorite ride.”
Her face lit up. “I loved that one! The Texas Cyclone was better, though.”
Talking about what they remembered kept them occupied while the line shuffled slowly forward. They were nearly halfway to the front when they ran out of Astroworld memories and Ryan switched to describing various Six Flags rides to a fascinated Juanita. He wished he could take her there and ride every one at her side. At least there was a good chance she’d get to visit the park eventually.
Maybe, someday, a few years from now perhaps, when she’d remained undiscovered long enough that she lost the fear—
No. He couldn’t allow himself to think about that. He couldn’t put his life on hold for the slim chance of a reunion. And more importantly, he couldn’t ask her to wait for him. She needed him to grant her the freedom to move on.
Juanita started telling him about Sea World in San Antonio, where she’d gone on a church trip in high school. He countered with memories of summer visits to Schlitterbahn in New Braunfels. They were so busy talking he didn’t notice how far they’d moved until a terminal employee cleared her throat to get their attention. She directed them to one of a dozen parallel lines. Each led to a separate customs station. Less than ten people stood between them and the head of the line.
Neither Ryan nor Juanita restarted the conversation. Ryan reached for Juanita’s hand, and she clutched his. Together they peered ahead and studied the procedure they were about to go through.
The line stopped at a yellow mark on the concrete. A man in uniform was stationed inside a booth with plexiglass-topped walls, about ten feet farther on. He beckoned the passengers forward by family groups. One at a time, each person passed him their ID. He took it, typed something into a computer, then looked carefully back and forth between the picture and the person’s face. Once satisfied, he passed the driver’s license or passport back and repeated the process with the next traveler.
Ryan felt dizzy. His heart hammered. His cheeks flushed hot, then cold. He desperately wanted to grab Juanita’s hand and flee, shoving through the waiting crowd. There was nowhere for them to go, but he didn’t care. He just needed to escape.
Why the hell had he ever agreed to this? It wasn’t going to work. The official would take one glance at Carmen’s picture and realize it wasn’t Juanita. He’d sound the alarm and police would pour in. They’d surround Juanita and grab her and slap her in handcuffs. They�
�d haul her to a police car and drive away with sirens blaring. They’d throw her into a cold, bare cell. They’d shove her onto an airplane and she would fly out of the country, away from her home, away from her family, away from her life. Away from him.
The customs official beckoned. The family in front of them, a couple with four children ranging from a toddler to a teen, walked up to the booth. Juanita tugged him, and Ryan stumbled forward until the yellow line on the concrete lay before his toes. It yawned like a canyon, an unbridgeable gulf he was about to tumble into and fall until he smashed into bloody pulp on the rocks below—
Juanita squeezed his arm hard, yanking him back to reality. He realized he was gasping. He shook his head and fought to control his ragged breaths, with little success.
She was pale and tight-lipped, but composed. He had to get over his panic for her sake. Otherwise any minute she’d lose it too, and they’d both be doomed.
Juanita pressed close and put her mouth to his ear. “Ryan. Remember Thursday night, on our balcony?”
The memory burned through his fear like a laser beam. Juanita leaning over and gripping the rail, dress hiked up around her waist. Him behind her, buried deep in her sweet body. The ocean and sky and stars all around…
“How could I forget?” he managed to whisper.
She gave him a strained grin and brushed a hand down the flowered fabric of her sundress. “I’m not wearing panties now, either.”
A jolt of arousal lanced through him. “Oh,” he choked out.
“When he asks for my driver’s license, I want you to come up behind me and lift my dress and open your fly and slide inside me. Right there with everyone watching.”
He stared at her, shocked and horrified and unbearably titillated. “You can’t be serious.”
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