Lee woke and pulled the curtains back to reveal the skyline of Boston. The ship must have pulled into port at dawn while they were sleeping. Or sort of sleeping. Last night, she’d tossed and turned, thinking about Abby. Lee had suspected something was off with her friend, but she would never have guessed leukemia.
She clicked on her phone to see if they had Wi-Fi reception yet—and waited. Miraculously, the tiny green bars popped up at the top of her screen. She ignored the three-hundred-plus e-mails in her in-box and clicked over to Google. All they had to do was find a match for Abby. How hard could it be? The first thing she’d do when she got back to Charleston was get herself tested. What if she or Caroline were a match?
The ultimate confirmation that we are sisters, she thought. Lee knew she’d give Abby or Caroline her bone marrow, a kidney, whatever she could, just as she was certain they would do the same for her.
She scrolled down a list of studies, trying to be quiet, as Lacey rolled over in bed.
When she was back home, Lee would research the possibilities more. What if Abby’s leukemia had been misdiagnosed? What if there was another treatment plan that could cure her without something as dramatic as a bone marrow transplant? Did radiation work with leukemia? Lee was grossly uneducated about the illness; she hardly knew where to begin. Well, she had the whole summer to figure it out.
At that moment, a text popped up on her phone from Caroline. Of course, Caroline had already been online doing research. Hi! Wi-Fi working again. Did some checking this morning. 70% of Caucasian patients who need bone marrow transplants find a match! That’s a lot higher than Abby led us to believe. Must discuss later. Xo, Car
Well, there, thought Lee. Put Caroline Canton on the case and suddenly the skies brightened. It had been that way since Lee could remember. Caroline got things done, and what’s more, she had connections. If there were specialists in New York whom Abby should consult for a second opinion, then Caroline would find them. It was a comforting thought.
Lee dressed and slipped out of the cabin before Lacey woke. There was one more thing she wanted to do before they stepped off the ship.
Abby, Sam, and the boys were sitting at a table in the Blue Wave, enjoying their final breakfast of omelets and French toast. In forty-five minutes, they were due to disembark. From above her coffee cup, Abby watched while more guests poured into the restaurant. It amazed her that, even after nine days, there still managed to be people whom she hadn’t seen once on the ship. Some passengers wheeled their suitcases behind them as they went to sit down. Abby’s family had tagged their bags last night so that their luggage would be waiting for them in the cruise port.
She bit into her French toast, drowning in blueberries and syrup. “I’m going to miss this food,” she said.
“Me, too,” agreed Chris.
Abby had enjoyed not having to shop or cook, so much so that she wondered if she might prolong her hiatus from the kitchen. Maybe she’d look into a home delivery service, where all the ingredients came freshly prepared. Sam thought she should be doing less anyway while her body adjusted to the medication, and she was beginning to see that he was right. It would do her good to slow down. For once in her life, she didn’t feel compelled to tend to her family’s every need. The boys were old enough. They could help out more, even make trips to the grocery store. It was time to loosen the reins. More than time, she thought.
Last night, when they’d had to pack up their luggage for the porters, she’d realized she’d written almost nothing in her leather journal. And she’d meant to include so much advice! To spell everything out for her boys, all that they would need to know in the event she had to leave them too soon. But it dawned on her this morning what a ridiculous plan it had been. The twins knew what she would say in most instances anyway. In fact, they’d already complained that her nagging voice followed them around everywhere in their heads. Well, one day, she supposed, when she was no longer around, they might appreciate that voice.
Yes, her boys would be fine, whether she left this world in twenty days or twenty years. Even Ryan, who seemed to be friends with Lacey again, would find his way. Especially Ryan, she thought.
She glanced around the table and was surprised to see everyone’s head bent over his phone. How quickly they all reverted to their old ways! Here they’d spent seven full days out at sea, but now that technology was within reach, all the men at her table had retreated into their own individual bubbles. As if the need for civil conversation no longer applied.
Abby cleared her throat. “Isn’t it amazing,” she tried, “to think that after we step off the ship, the stewards are already getting ready for the next round of passengers? That at five o’clock tonight there will be another sail off?” She sipped her coffee, waiting for someone to respond. “I guess it’s a shorter cruise by a day, though,” she continued. “Leaves on Saturday and gets back on Friday next week.” She glanced around the table. “Excuse me?” she said loudly. “Hello? Would anyone like to talk to me during our last few minutes of vacation?”
Ryan lifted his head and peered at her from under too-long bangs. He’d need a haircut when they got back home. “Sorry, Mom. It’s just been so long, you know, since we’ve had any Internet.”
“Sorry, honey,” Sam said, without even bothering to look up. “I have a couple of work things I need to check.” Chris slumped further down in his seat, pretending not to hear.
“Well, in that case,” she said more to herself than anyone else, “it was nice seeing all your handsome faces for a week. Now I’m back to looking at the tops of your baseball caps.”
Lee was the next person in line to pay her bill. She’d texted Lacey to meet her at the front, near the main exit for disembarking. She’d been waiting in line for thirty minutes now, but Lee didn’t mind because she was busy combing through the brochures for other cruises. Despite the one rocky night they’d had, she’d discovered that she liked sailing and all its accoutrements. She could picture herself cruising to ports across the world. Maybe Italy or Greece next summer. A lot had happened in seven short days—Sam and Abby’s anniversary, Lacey’s pregnancy scare, Caroline’s engagement, and now Abby’s health news—and it made Lee realize that she needed to start living her own life again.
For so long, Lee’s focus had been solely on Lacey. Shuttling her to ballet and gymnastics classes. Checking her homework, then her college essays. Making sure there was always enough money. It hadn’t mattered that Lee had put on weight or that her cholesterol had skyrocketed. Even when the doctor had cautioned her that she was borderline diabetic, Lee had remained unfazed. So long as Lacey was happy and doing well, Lee was happy.
But it had taken the cruise to wake a part of her that she’d forgotten about herself. There was no reason for her to be the lonely mom left behind in an empty nest. Far from it! Lee had plenty of friends she could visit, and, even if she wouldn’t admit it now, Abby would need their help eventually. Already, the roommates were planning their October trip to Maine to visit Lacey. Lee’s life wasn’t washed up quite yet. Thomas had been a fling, but he’d given her something important—a reminder of what it felt like to be attracted to someone and to feel desired. That elusive taste of fun that had been missing from her life ever since Lacey left for school.
Lee realized that she needed a plan, beyond what she was going to teach her preschoolers on any given day. She needed a life plan, one that would allow her to explore new places and one that, quite possibly, maybe even selfishly, would be about her happiness, not just Lacey’s. Lee had gotten her sweet, slightly wiser, daughter back on the cruise, and she was tremendously grateful for that. But now, she told herself, it was time to get herself back.
The thought was so foreign she might as well have resolved to go skydiving. But there it was. Lee Minor resolved to do better by her life. Paying off the remainder of the cruise would be a step in the right direction, she thought, as she finally got her turn at the front desk. She’d already paid for their tickets (despite Abby’s generous offer), but who knew what ungodly expenses she and Lacey had racked up during the week. She cringed to think it could be in the thousands.
When she gave the hostess her room number, however, she was informed that all expenses for cabin 1023 had already been paid in full. By one Mrs. Abigail Bingham.
It had felt good to pack up all her sundresses and cruise attire last night. Caroline couldn’t help it—she was a New Yorker, and she was looking forward to getting back to the city. Plus, she was leaving the ship an engaged woman! There was so much planning to do, so much to look forward to. Already, a friend who worked at Vera Wang had left her a voice mail suggesting she drop by the store for a preliminary peek at wedding gowns. Because, of course, Caroline had posted the news on her Facebook account this morning, the very second Wi-Fi was restored.
She felt a twinge of guilt, though, when she glimpsed Abby and the boys falling into line for disembarking. Because Caroline was also leaving the ship knowing that her friend was sick, possibly very sick. She didn’t yet have a handle on what Abby’s diagnosis meant exactly—she suspected Abby had been glib in her description of it—but she intended to find out. Already, she’d e-mailed a friend of a friend who was married to one of the top oncologists in Manhattan. Surely, he’d be able to explain it to her, offer some advice, perhaps a referral.
“Are you sure that’s what Abby wants?” Javier had asked her this morning in their cabin.
“What do you mean? How could it not be?” Caroline had demanded. “Abby’s the kind of person who goes through life, come what may, without complaining. Sometimes she needs someone to take the bull by the horns for her.”
“But what if she’d rather deal with things in her own way, on her own time?”
Caroline had shaken her head in disbelief. Was Javier really telling her to back off, to stop trying to do whatever she could to help her friend? No way. She’d felt the color creeping into her cheeks.
“I think I know my friend, Javier,” she’d said curtly and turned on her heel.
But now she wondered if maybe Javier had a point. She’d have to be careful not to push too hard, to listen to what Abby wanted. It wasn’t as if Caroline were charged with planning a wedding or a magazine spread for her friend—this was Abby’s life. She took a moment to gather herself before approaching them. Should she tell Abby about the information she’d already found on donor matches and how encouraging it was? Or should she do what she really wanted to do at the moment, which was to pull her friend into a hug?
She glanced down the hallway and noticed one of the boys waving at her. Chris. Then it hit her: the boys didn’t know yet. Abby and Sam were waiting to tell them back at home. Oh, the poor boys! Caroline would call later tonight to check in and see how things had gone. There would be no mention of Abby’s predicament—or how they might go about solving it—this morning. That could wait. We have plenty of time, Caroline told herself.
“So, you better get ready,” she said, as she clicked over to Abby’s gang in her traveling heels, Kate Spade leopard-print mules. Abby stared at her confused. “Because I’m going to be bombarding you with wedding questions,” Caroline finished.
Abby’s face softened. “Happy to help however I can,” she replied. “Though something tells me you already have the whole thing planned. Keep an eye on her, Javier. Don’t let her go too far off the deep end, okay?”
Javier winked. “You bet. And, hey, we’ll see you soon.” He turned to Sam and the boys. “You guys are coming down for a Yankees game, right?”
“Yeah, but only to watch the Sox beat you guys. You let me know the date,” said Sam, shaking hands. “Congratulations, again. You’re a lucky man. Guys have been chasing Caroline for years.”
“Thanks. Same to you. What an amazing anniversary. Thanks for including us.”
“Yes, thanks, lovey.” Caroline squeezed Abby. “I’ll call you tonight,” she whispered.
Lee and Lacey pulled up behind them in line. “There you two are. All ready?” Abby asked.
“Well,” Lee said, “if we have to get off the boat, I guess we will. Although Lacey and I were thinking of signing on as deckhands.”
“I wouldn’t put it past either one of you,” said Caroline with a laugh. “Can I commission an article from you in that case?”
“Ha! Did you finish yours?” Lee asked.
“Hit Send this morning.” Caroline made the whooshing sound of an e-mail traveling through cyberspace. “By the way, don’t be surprised if you see yourselves quoted as ‘experts,’ ” she added.
Their line inched closer to the porter who was checking passengers off the ship. Lee pulled Abby into a big, bone-crushing hug. “Thank you for everything,” she said. “You weren’t supposed to pay our bill,” she whispered.
“Of course we were,” said Abby. “I told you the cruise was our treat.” They watched as other passengers handed over their room keys before checking off the ship. All too soon, it was time to say good-bye.
“Okay, so, no tears,” coached Caroline. “You know how much I hate good-byes. Besides.” She turned to Lacey. “We’re going to see you in October.”
“That’s right,” said Lacey. “And then for your wedding! Love you, Aunty.”
“Me, too, sweetie. And, roomies, I’ll be talking to you soon.” Caroline waved as she headed down the gangway with Javier, the first to disembark. Yes, thought Lee. We have a lot more to discuss.
Lee handed her key card to the porter and hugged Abby one last time. “You take care of yourself. We’ll see each other before you know it.”
“You bet,” said Abby.
Then Lee turned and followed her daughter down the walkway, onto firmer ground.
Abby stood at the railing and watched her friends depart. She told Sam she needed a minute. Soon, she’d step foot back on land, where her treatment and more tests and who knew what else awaited her. She’d been in denial long enough—the cruise had been a convenient way to keep her diagnosis at bay. But now she would have to confront it. She wanted nothing more than more time. But what was the point of bargaining for more time when she didn’t even know if there was someone to bargain with?
Abby wanted to believe in a greater force, a higher good. As a child, she’d attended communion and confirmation at her nondenominational church. She’d carried with her the nebulous underpinnings of faith, as if she might unpack them whenever a big trip demanded them. But her faith couldn’t hold a candle to Sam’s conviction, Sam who had been raised on the tenets of Catholicism since he was a baby. Like his lungs or a beating heart, Sam’s faith was a natural part of him. How Abby longed for that certainty! She tried to imagine God granting her mom and dad a swank hotel room up in heaven, wanted to believe that one day she might come back as a robin, or a butterfly, to flutter around her boys. But it was, and would continue to be, she suspected, a struggle up until the very end.
She breathed in the morning air that had more bite to it than Bermuda’s. But even here, in Boston’s harbor with the brackish Atlantic, the water sparkled, the early-morning light skipping across it in silver arcs. It was crazy beautiful, impossible not to notice. And it was here, on the deck, that Abby promised herself: I will not crawl into a hole and feel sorry for myself. I will put my name on the list for donors. I will remember to be amazed. Amazed by the sun dappling the water. Amazed by the city’s grand architecture. Amazed by the truly beautiful circle of family and friends that she’d built.
Abby was proud of each one of them—Lee, who’d raised a lovely, self-sufficient daughter all on her own. Caroline, who’d taken the world by storm and had at last found her life’s partner. Sam, dependable, unbreakable Sam, who’d been by her side since she could remember. And her sweet boys, who would make their way in the world, with or without her. She’d done all the hard work already.
She thought of a sermon she’d heard during one of her infrequent visits to church, long before the diagnosis. The minister had talked about the Greek word for perfect or telios. But the full translation was “having reached your purpose.” Abby had been struck by those words. Had she reached her purpose? If someone had asked her that day, she would have said that being a good mom, a loyal friend, a person who made the world a little better, was her life’s purpose. But what if she was meant to do more? She’d always wanted to go back to the gallery once the kids were in college. What if she wasn’t finished yet?
She looked down at the people below, hurrying to their homes or their jobs, at the gulls swooping in wide arcs above, at the warming sun hopscotching across the water, and was suddenly flooded with a sense of joy. Because what did it matter, really, if she was meant to do more? If she wasn’t perfect? All around her was a world that bedazzled.
Abby had been satisfied that day in church, months ago, that she’d fulfilled her purpose already. There was only so much one person could do. So now, she would allow herself to be amazed. By all that she’d been given in life—and all that she’d been able to give back.
“Honey?” It was Sam. He was waiting for her at the gateway. She looked at her sweet, loving husband, his hand outstretched. “Ready?”
She paused for a moment, glanced out to sea, then turned back to him. “Yes,” she said, reaching for his hand. “Yes,” she repeated and offered him her most encouraging smile while silently reciting her new mantra as they stepped forward together.
If nothing else, remember to be amazed.