Open Seating (10 page)

Seth laughed. “Come in the summer and you’re bound to get good weather. Spring and fall are unpredictable, and winter is a nightmare. Where are you from, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Originally from San Francisco, but we moved to Portland, Oregon, last year,” Jeannie said.

“That must have been a big change,” Seth guessed.

Jeannie’s happy smile disappeared, replaced by a look Seth could only describe as haunted. A few heartbeats later, she replied, “More than you know.”

“Honey, I think we’re next,” Andrew said. “Let me help you.”

Seth watched Andrew help Jeannie to her feet. Again, he wondered what made her so frail. She was definitely wobbly when she first stood but seemed to find her footing with her husband’s reassuring presence.

“It was nice to meet you,” Andrew said. “We should have drinks once we’re on board.”

“Leave a note at the front desk,” Seth suggested. “I don’t remember our suite number, but I’m sure we’ll get the message.”

“It’s a date,” Jeannie said, seemingly restored. “I’d love to chat with you about your next release.”

“I’d like that,” Seth agreed.

“Bryce and I can talk hockey while you guys do that,” Andrew said. “I’m a big Hawks fan.”

“So am I,” Bryce said.

They watched the couple slowly make their way to the check-in area. “What’s wrong with her?” Seth asked.

Bryce shrugged. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

“Come on,” Seth said. “We’re next.”

There was an uncomfortable moment during the check-in procedure when they were informed all charges had to go on one credit card and Bryce insisted they use his instead of Seth’s.

“Why?” Seth argued. “There’s no need for you to do that.”

“I’ll probably spend more than you,” Bryce argued. “I like to gamble and would feel funny loading up your credit card with my expenses. Whatever charges you rack up will be clearly marked with your name. We’ll settle up back home.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes,” Bryce assured him.

“Okay,” Seth said as he watched Bryce hand over his American Express card to the ship officials.

The
Emerald Queen
wasn’t a mega cruise ship accommodating five thousand passengers, but the scaled-down version carrying two thousand passengers plus crew. Because of its smaller size, they were able to dock at certain ports off-limits to the monster ships, which avoided tendering, a fancy maritime word that meant boarding the motorized lifeboats lining the decks, standing in line coming and going, more paperwork, and dealing with motion sickness if the sea was choppy. Many passengers balked when informed they’d have to be tendered to shore and missed out on great opportunities because they didn’t want to go through the hassle. It was another reason why some passengers preferred smaller ships.

In planning their trip, Mark and Seth had been determined to experience as much of the British Isles as possible, and shore excursions were the way to go. Being accompanied by a local guide who could give them an overview of the area and get them into exhibits without standing in line with the other tourists was far more sensible than wandering around aimlessly on their own. A lot of forethought had gone into their selections, and Seth had seen no reason to change anything because his partner had switched. Hopefully, the Shore Excursion Director had been informed of the new development, and an envelope with a set of tickets in Bryce’s name would be waiting for them in their cabin.

Choosing accommodations aboard the ship had turned into another battle of wills between Mark and Seth due to the veranda Seth insisted he needed. Mark had argued that it wasn’t necessary to spend the extra money when all they were going to use the cabin for was sleeping, but after scrimping and saving for years to take this trip, Seth envisioned long hours reclining on a deck chair from his private balcony, watching the ocean turn colors as the sun set on the horizon. He knew it was part of a fantasy he’d created for this dream trip, and he’d won the argument after pestering Mark for days.

They strolled up the gangplank—after the usual welcome-aboard photographs—and took the foyer elevator up to the Caribe Deck, where their suite was located. Bryce took the lead down the long corridor, and Seth followed quietly, rolling his small carry-on suitcase containing his laptop and other important items. They’d been assured the rest of their luggage would be deposited in their suite within the hour.

There were three colorful balloons pinned to their door, and as they entered the suite, a large banner with Happy Anniversary was strung across the sliding glass door leading out to the veranda. A magnum of champagne was icing in a silver bucket on a table with a tray of fruit, cheese, and delectable chocolates. Seth gaped when he saw the royal welcome. The reality of his abrupt shift in status from happily partnered to depressingly single slammed into him without warning, and he burst into tears.

“Shit,” Bryce muttered under his breath. He was at Seth’s side in a second and drew him close, wrapping the distraught man in a protective embrace. “It’s okay,” Bryce said gently.

Seth cried even harder, sobbing against his chest. The grief he’d been dealing with since Mark’s death fell on him like a shroud, engulfing him in waves of guilt and despair.
Could have been
and
should have done
kept repeating in his head like a sick mantra, sinking him deeper into a fit of utter desolation.

“Come on,” Bryce said softly against Seth’s ear. “Mark would be the first to tell you this wasn’t what he had in mind when he ordered such a generous welcome gift. He’d urge you to toast your voyage with a glass or two of the fine bubbly. When you pull yourself together, we’ll stop at the front desk and rip them a new asshole for being so insensitive. Stupid bastards should have known better.”

Seth choked on a laugh, grateful for Bryce’s pragmatic nature. Once again, his rough-and-tumble companion didn’t seem in the least bit fazed by Seth’s meltdown, taking it in stride with his trademark sense of humor. Seth was beginning to recognize the jokes as a disguise for a more sensitive nature Bryce chose to keep under wraps.

“You’re right,” Seth said, tearfully looking Bryce in the eye. “Mark would expect me to pull a hissy fit over their faux pas and possibly get a shipboard credit to boot.”

“But not before we devour the goodies,” Bryce teased. “Mustn’t pass on the good stuff.”

Seth stepped away from Bryce with a nod and headed toward the box of tissues he spied on one of the bureaus. He blew his nose and grabbed a fresh tissue to wipe away the tears that had coated his cheeks and spiked his eyelashes.

“Crying is always so much more glamorous in novels than in real life. My heroines never look or sound like bullfrogs after a crying jag, unlike me. I’m sure I look frightful.”

Bryce grinned. “You’re fine.”

Seth snorted. “Has anyone ever mentioned you’re a lousy liar?”

“That’s why I try to stick to the truth for the most part.”

“Can you uncork the champagne so we can get started on the first part of our project?”

“No problem,” Bryce said. “Room service popped the cork beforehand and recapped it to trap the bubbles. A little wiggle will remove it.”

“By all means, wiggle away,” Seth said. He looked in the mirror above the bureau and stuck out his tongue in disgust. “God, when did I get so old?”

“Shut up,” Bryce said.

“I never fixated on my looks while Mark was alive. He always made me feel attractive, even when I was wearing pajamas, but now things have changed. I’ll have to make an effort with my appearance.”

“At the risk of being called a liar again and speaking as a friend with no ulterior motives, you should know there’s nothing wrong with your looks. Any guy who comes after Mark will be lucky to have you. If he doesn’t show you his appreciation right off the bat, he’s not worth knowing.”

“Is that right?” Seth said, unable to hide his smile. He was ridiculously pleased with the left-handed compliment. “I don’t look like a washed-out version of myself?”

“I didn’t know you back in the day, but what I see now is pretty damn hot.”

Seth rolled his eyes. “I’m not in the least bit hot.”

“Trust me,” Bryce said knowingly. “You are.”

ON THEIR
third flute of champagne and well on the road to shitfaced, Seth and Bryce were startled by a voice coming through the loudspeaker announcing a mandatory fire drill. At first they thought to ignore it and continue drinking and munching on the delicious appetizers, but when the captain himself came on the second time to remind passengers the drill was for their safety, names would be checked off a roster, and nothing would proceed until everyone was accounted for, they caved.

Grumbling but compliant, Bryce checked the ship diagram attached to the door to locate their assigned muster station. He discovered a pair of bright orange life vests on the top shelf of a closet and grabbed them, handing one to Seth. They followed the line of passengers trudging toward the main staircase, then down several flights to the sixth deck, where they stood with the other members of their group. When everyone was present, the officer in charge gave them instructions on what to do if they had to abandon ship.

Seth’s vivid imagination had already placed him and Bryce clinging to a floating iceberg in the tradition of
Titanic
, complete with Celine Dion’s voice warbling the iconic song as they struggled to survive. He wondered how he’d manage if the worst actually happened and he found himself in a situation where his true mettle came into question. Would he live to tell the tale or panic and die? He knew Bryce would pass any test of courage with flying colors. He was as reliable as tempered steel and built for endurance. Plus, he had heart. Bryce’s capacity for sympathy had been a wonderful revelation, and imagining him in the role of hero wasn’t that difficult.

Granted, Seth was seeing his roommate through the eyes of someone who’d recently been rescued by the unexpected source. But wasn’t that a true judge of character? How one responded instinctively, without time for artifice or forethought, was what separated the strong from the weak, the good from the bad, and the winners from the losers. Bryce might be a bed-hopper and delusional about aging, but he sure as heck knew how to make someone feel safe.

And therein lay the problem. Against his better judgment, Seth was falling for the guy. Perhaps it was rebound or simple loneliness, but the end result was the same. He enjoyed being in Bryce’s presence, arguments notwithstanding. The guy challenged him and made him
feel
for the first time in years. Life with Mark had been satisfying and balanced, a haven for his literary muse and perfectly structured to suit his needs, but it had also been rather predictable.

Playing his own devil’s advocate, Seth asked himself if he would have achieved his level of success if he’d lived with someone like Bryce who turned each day into an adventure. Wasn’t it the constants in his life that allowed him to focus on his career? Or was he using routine as an excuse to cover up his reclusive nature? More often than not, Mark had to coax him out of his writing cave with promises of good things to come. Even then, Seth shied away from public appearances.

Seth had been accused of being stuck up and unapproachable, when in reality he was just shy and afraid of rejection. He couldn’t stand small talk in a social setting, but he’d happily converse for hours on almost any topic with one or two people—and they could be complete strangers—but if the venue were cozier than a drafty convention hall, it made all the difference.

On several occasions, Mark had suggested he might be depressed because he was so quiet. What Mark never understood was Seth’s need to look within and listen to the challenges or invitations his muse presented when he was in the right headspace. Nothing would penetrate if he was surrounded by external noise, and that included earsplitting music, television, or a chatty partner. Silence was his sanctuary, and he embraced the magical moments when the voices in his head became reality with the help of his keyboard. Would another man ever understand that side of his personality?

As the officer wrapped up the procedural spiel, the passenger behind Seth complained about the inconvenience of standing around listening to meaningless crap when he could be somewhere more pleasant throwing away his money. Apparently no one had informed him that the casino, and all onboard boutiques, had to remain closed until the ship was five miles offshore due to laws regulating gambling and tax-free sales. Even Seth, an unseasoned cruiser, knew that much.

For the moment, they would have to content themselves with the orchestrated entertainment up on the Lido Deck, where the pool and casual dining were located. Seth had read every page of the ship brochure accessible online and could recite verbatim how and where one could avail of all the amenities. He knew, for instance, that there was a pizza bar that served fresh pies twenty-four hours a day. Bryce had been thrilled with the news, although he was sure they couldn’t compare to Chicago deep dish, but it was certainly better than nothing. There was also a self-service ice cream bar where one could whip up a sundae with the usual toppings whenever the mood hit. During lunch, the poolside crew served hot dogs and hamburgers along with a wide assortment of umbrella drinks, for passengers who preferred to soak up the rays instead of dressing for more formal dining indoors. Manis, pedis, and massages had to be booked far in advance, especially for “at sea” days when one had nothing better to do than be pampered. Seth had already made reservations for Bryce and himself tomorrow afternoon after they returned from their land tour. A deep-tissue massage followed by a soothing dip in the hot tub adjacent to the spa sounded relaxing right then.

This afternoon a live band and generous buffet had been laid out for anyone who wanted to stay above deck as the ship pulled away from its berth on the first leg of their journey. They would be traveling overnight to the British Isle of Guernsey (St. Peter Port), eight miles off the coast of France, where they would remain from seven in the morning until three in the afternoon. For their land tour, Seth had chosen a narrated scenic drive that would take them through Sausmarez Manor. Highlights included family portraits in the dining hall, a visit to the little chapel, and a miniature church decorated with shells, pebbles, and bits of broken china. It was a two-and-a-half-hour tour, and afterward, they could take a leisurely walk around town in case they wanted to do some shopping. Unfortunately, it was a tender port, so there was that slight inconvenience.