I need to explain a few things.
My name is Claire. I’m twenty-nine. I’ve been married to Ryan for four years.
Ryan works on cruise ships. Or he did, when this all started. He was an assistant cruise director for one of the big lines. He ran trivia nights and pool games and the karaoke lounge. He hosted the deck parties where everybody wore white. He was very, very good at it. Ryan could make a room full of strangers feel like they’d known him their whole lives.
That’s how I met him. I wasn’t a passenger. I was a bridesmaid at my cousin’s wedding, and the reception was at a waterfront hotel where Ryan was working a summer job between contracts. He was the DJ. He played the wrong song for the first dance, and when my cousin glared at him, he grabbed the microphone and made the whole room laugh so hard that she forgave him.
He asked me to dance at the end of the night.
“You’re the only person here who didn’t laugh at me,” he said.
“I thought it was mean to laugh,” I said.
“See,” he said. “That’s how I know you’re a good one.”
His contracts were long. Six months at sea. Sometimes seven. Then six or eight weeks at home. Then back out again.
I knew that when I married him. I told myself I could handle it. Lots of people have long-distance marriages. Military wives. Truck drivers’ wives. I had my job as a pharmacy technician. I had my best friend, Dana, who lived twenty minutes away. I had my little routines.
When he was home, it was like a honeymoon every time. He’d bring me presents from every port. A scarf from Lisbon. A little ceramic bird from Mexico. He’d take me to dinner. He’d fix things around the house. He’d sleep in until noon and make pancakes in his boxers.
Then he’d leave again. And I’d cry for two days and then go back to my routines.
It worked. Or I thought it did.
We’d been trying for a baby for a year when I finally got pregnant.
When the ultrasound tech said, “And here’s the second heartbeat,” Ryan actually fell off the little rolling stool. He sat on the floor of that dark room, staring up at the screen, with his mouth open.
“Two?” he said.
“Two,” the tech said.
He started laughing. Then he started crying. Then he got up and kissed me so hard the tech had to look away.
“We’re having twins, babe,” he kept saying. “Twins! I’m going to be the best dad in the world. Double the best.” 