Chapter Seven

Day Four, Morning

After waking up earlier than she wanted to, Kate discovered the yacht traveling at a greater speed than usual. It was easy to deduce that Sam was taking them farther away from the great white shark. They were now most likely outside the coordinates she'd given her father. She chose not to dwell on it as she readied herself for the morning.

Shuffling through her clothes, she decided on a loose pink tee and a pair of black shorts. She had another gauzy dress she could put on after her workout and shower. She wheeled herself to the bathroom and looked at her face in the mirror as she pulled back her hair. One day she would need makeup that she would never use. Everyone aged and, other than moisturizers for the skin she often abused with the sun's rays, she wouldn't give in to the "younger looking is better" model of aging. She had a touch of pink on her cheeks that made her appear healthier than she had over the past year and a half.

She'd mostly confined herself to the house and doctor visits since the accident. In the beginning, she was self-conscious about her legs and the things she hadn't learned to do for herself yet. Two trips for a few food items and the feelings of helplessness they brought on in a world that no longer conformed to her was enough to keep her home. Sam had tried to get her out of the house more and went so far as to look into local book groups. She resented his interference. When she had to go into public, she felt as if there was a large letter painted on her forehead. Maybe a large C for my husband cheated. His infidelity embarrassed her, and she hadn't been honest with her tight-knit group of friends, which placed a wedge in her relationships.

Kate had always been the one with the ideal marriage, a daughter who was smart beyond her years, and a job she excelled at. That was all gone now, and she was really sick of feeling sorry for herself. When their voyage ended, she would look up her friends and reconnect again. They had tried to be there after the accident, but Kate pushed them away because she couldn't share the problems in her marriage. Pride had been her downfall, and she was sick of it getting in the way.

Sam cheated. He wasn't the first married man to do it, and he wouldn't be the last. She had to find the strength to figure out the next step in their relationship. Once she did, she would stick to her decision and build her life back, with or without Sam. That decided, she wheeled out of the room. The scent of bacon greeted her as soon as the cabin door closed behind her. Sam had been busy.

"Good morning," he said when she approached.

Today he wore tan shorts and an olive, short sleeved, cotton shirt with the buttons undone. She hadn't realized he'd bought so many yacht clothes. Sam appeared relaxed and she resented the fact that he'd most likely had a good night's sleep.

"Mom!" Ryan yelled, running from the table and launching herself into her mother's arms.

Kate lifted her daughter into her lap and gave her a big hug, glancing over Ryan's head at Sam.

"She's been helping me cook," he said. "We had an accident with a carton of eggs, but other than that, it's been a success."

Ryan giggled against her chest.

"He made me clean them up, and they were gooey," she told her mom.

"The entire carton?" Kate asked.

"Goner," Sam confirmed.

"Good reason for a big hug," Kate said, squeezing her daughter extra hard.

"Mom, I can't breathe," Ryan wheezed theatrically.

"Promise you won't waste any more eggs," Kate said cheerfully.

"Promise." Ryan squirmed out of her arms and went back to the table.

"I tried to call Grandpop this morning," Ryan told her. "We don't have internet."

"I called him last night and he knows communication might be a problem for a few days."

"You told him about the shark, didn't you?" Ryan accused, her eyes squinting with disgruntlement.

"Yes, I mentioned it, but he'll enjoy you telling him just as much."

Ryan stuck her tongue out before her nose went into her iPad.

Sam placed a mug of coffee in front of Kate. Just the smell perked her up a bit.

"Thank you," she said before taking a sip. Every coffee meme was written for her. She'd been drinking it since she was Ryan's age but wouldn't tell her daughter that. Mornings needed coffee like sharks needed teeth. Step between her and her cup and there would be trouble.

Bobbie, Kate's mother, had been an adventurer, just like Kate's father, and they both loved the ocean. Bobbie died of cancer when Kate was a toddler, and she had no memory of her. This gave Kate's father the opportunity to raise his daughter according to his tenets, and coffee was a huge one. He'd probably slipped Ryan caffeine without Kate being aware but she refused to think about it. Her father would just say it's what grandpops do and his behavior wouldn't change.

Sam's parents lived in upstate New York, and they weren't a close family. He called them on Christmas and their birthdays. It was the only time they spoke because they never reached out to him. They'd seen Ryan exactly twice, and that was because Kate and Sam went to them. Kate had received a get-well card after her accident and no other words of encouragement since. Not seeing Ryan grow up was their loss.

Kate grabbed a piece of bacon and ate it in two bites. "Not bad," she declared. "You can take over galley duty if you'd like."

"Yuk," Ryan said dramatically. "Remember the spaghetti?"

"You will not mention the great spaghetti fiasco on this boat," Sam said sternly, giving her a light tap on the head with the spatula he held.

"The spaghetti was bad, Dad." Ryan smiled and clapped her hands. "That rhymed."

"It was as good as your hood," Sam said, giving her a small tickle at the waist.

"I didn't bring my hoodie on board, and hoodie does not rhyme with good. You're silly."

"You're a silly filly," he said straight-faced.

"If you keep going," Kate told them, "I'll eat all the bacon, and there will be none left which will leave you Makin' more bacon." She ate another piece.

Even her daughter groaned when Kate joined in their word game.

Breakfast was filled with rhymes and laughter. Kate's world had been divided into "before he cheated" and "after he cheated". It beat out "before the accident" and "after the accident". Sam had basically pulled the rug from beneath her feet, and she had to find a way to move forward. Her unsolved issues wouldn't keep her from laughing with her goofball daughter when she was in a silly mood.

"I need your help in my cabin," Kate told Ryan after the dishes were stowed and Sam had moved into the control room. "It's bathroom behavior, so you should be happy."

Ryan placed her hands on her hips and glared at her mother in mock fierceness.

"You're lucky to have me. If Dad was your only nurse, that would be embarrassing."

Ryan had completely missed the point of Kate's embarrassment, which she guessed was normal for a five-year-old. They went to Kate's berth where she pulled out the small case Ryan would need.

"Urine test first, and then you can take my temperature." Kate could do both herself, but it would hurt Ryan's feelings. She took her caregiver role seriously.

Ryan was waiting with gloves when Kate wheeled out of the bathroom and handed the urine over. Ryan set it carefully on a small table, took out a strip, and dipped it like a seasoned lab tech. She then used her waterproof watch to monitor the time. The test was twofold and checked nitrite levels at one minute and leukocytes at two. She matched both to the color strip on the side of the box when it was time. Urinary tract infections were dangerous for paraplegics, and Kate did the test once a week and took her temperature daily.

"Looking good, Mom. I just need to check your temperature." Ryan removed the gloves like a seasoned nurse and took the thermometer out of the case.

When the thermometer displayed a precise 97.6, Ryan's small hands diligently marked the information on the chart. Ryan looked so proud of herself when she finished, and Kate was proud of her too. She would need to get a video so she could show her future grandchildren if Ryan decided motherhood was the right path. Above everything, Kate wanted her daughter to be happy and have the freedom to make her own choices in life.

"I did so well on the tests, maybe I can get out of physical therapy this morning," she teased her daughter.

The same small hands went to her waist again, and she glared at her mom.

"You're just being lazy," she said.

"Spoil sport," Kate replied, and this time she stuck out her tongue.

They headed for the deck.

"I was thinking of taking Ryan out on the Sea Doo," Sam said when her physical therapy was done. "If you're comfortable, you can swim, and we won't go far."

Ryan jumped up and down.

"Go grab your vest," Kate told her.

The Sea Doo was stored on the platform at the stern. Kate didn't mention the shark because she was glad Sam was going back in the ocean, even though he was cheating slightly by using the watercraft. Ryan came out with her purple, blue, and yellow vest, so Kate could help her get it on. Sam grabbed his plain black vest and snapped the connectors in place. Kate sat on the end of the platform, her legs in the water.

"I'll stay close to the boat," she told them. "Have fun."

"We'll keep you in sight," Sam said after he unhooked the bar that kept the Sea Doo in place. He started the motor. Ryan jumped behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Let's go," she shouted, and they took off.

Kate slipped into the water. It felt so good on her body after the workout. Clouds were building out at sea, and small waves were rocking the yacht. It was still warm. She took a lap around the boat, and of course, her thoughts were on the shark. Seaweed startled her when it brushed her arm and it was simply too much for her to take. She swam back to the platform and stared out at her husband and daughter. She saw a flash in the water from the corner of her eye and turned her head slightly to see if she caught it again.

Nothing.

She scanned the surface of the ocean. Her gaze followed the small undulating ripples that went on for as far as she could see. Each splash against the yacht seemingly whispered about something hiding beneath the water. Her body remained tense. She used her arms to lift herself onto the platform and then reached down and lifted first one leg and then the other leg. She turned her body sideways so her feet were no longer hanging over the side. She wrung her hands, a visible sign of her inner turmoil, her eyes scanning the horizon for the creature that haunted her imagination. Despite the beauty of the overcast day, her fear, though ridiculous, was real.

"Look at us, Mom," Ryan shouted.

The Sea Doo did a donut in the water before Sam took off at high speed and did his own trip around the yacht. Kate waved, and at the same time, she was mad at herself for allowing her imagination to have a field day.

She decided she was being ridiculous and she needed to get back in the water. She had just started to lift her leg when Sam pulled the Sea Doo up close.

"You didn't swim for long," he said. Both he and Ryan were wet from the donuts. Ryan's smile was huge and there was no way Kate would ruin her day.

"My side cramped," she lied. If Sam wasn't worried about big sharks, she wouldn't say anything to him either. She hadn't told him about the missing teens, and she had no plans to.

"Are you going out again?" she asked.

"No. Our daughter has challenged us to a Yahtzee tournament."

"Oh no, the dreaded Yahtzee." Kate shuddered dramatically. "I thought she'd beat us too many times to play against her again?" she teased.

"I trounced you," Ryan said with glee.

"You always trounce me," Kate complained. "But I guess. Maybe you'll let me win so my feelings aren't hurt."

"If I win, we get to watch The Little Mermaid," Ryan told them ignoring Kate's comment.

Both Kate and Sam groaned.