Page 7 of The Chaperones

“All good?” Cassie asks me, her hand on my shoulder again. Only this time all the husbands are nearby. Hers. Mine. She quickly drops her fingers as she heads over to Sofía, who’s rubbing her son’s back as he’s curled over the railing.

I’m still paralyzed when Ray comes bolting out of the cabin. In one swift motion, he leans over the rail and spews violently. He continues to dry heave as Cassie slips away to find her husband and daughter, who appears delighted by the scene. Ray, seasick to my left; poor Javi to my right. There are others, too, people we don’t know, lunging their bodies over the boat. More strangers are huddled in the fetal position, trying not to become involuntary members of the puke party.

Ray stands upright, and it’s like the crack of a whip. I become the husband I should have been for the last few minutes. I brush his hair from his face as he tilts his head back and breathes.

“You okay?”

“Yes, C, fucking golden.” He shrugs my hand off him. I wait for Ray to apologize, which he normally does immediately when he loses his temper. Right now, he’s concentrating too much on his breath to care that he’s been short with me. Ray’s adoring fans, the other parents, would be surprised at his aptitude for cruelty. After all these years, I’m still not prepared for it. It’s rare, yet potent. Uncontrollable.

“God, I hope no one caught that on video.”

“If you’re able to think about your reputation, it sounds like you’ll live,” I quip, pleased that my mouth is reacting faster than my mind. Ray’s still so focused on his breath, he hardly notices my tone, my dry eyes, which are surely bloodshot.

“Papa, a dolphin,” Kai shouts, tugging at Ray’s pant leg.

“Let’s give Papa Ray a little space, bud.” I usher Kai toward the railing, away from his father.

“There,” he says, examining the waves. Wyatt’s nestled in beside Kai, holding out his father’s—Brady’s—phone. They’re both in transitional kindergarten. As I watch them, I’m struck with the premonition that they’re going to be best friends, that we’ll be bound to Mona for an additional three years after Lei and Sawyer graduate. Wyatt extends Brady’s phone over the side, screen zoomed on the water.

“Just a wave,” Kai says, disappointed.

The boat slams down, and everyone lurches in unison. Wyatt falls into Kai, and they both laugh until Wyatt shudders like he’s had an accident.

“What’s up?” I ask him.

“Phone,” he whispers, holding out his empty hands.

It takes me longer than it should to understand what’s happened.

“I didn’t mean to.” He looks like he’s about to cry.

“You should probably tell your dad.” I nudge him toward Brady, who’s sitting there dumbfounded.

Wyatt trots off and I return my attention to my husband, who continues to prop himself against the cabin.

“Deep breaths,” I say to him.

“Seriously, C, if you don’t fuck off, I’m going to snap.”

I hold my hands up in surrender and back away from him as he runs to the side and upchucks again.

“Goddamn it, Wyatt.” I turn to see Brady charge past his son, who’s now bawling, and scour the water like he may be able to spot his phone in the blue-green swirls of this vast ocean.

Of all people, it’s Cassie who bends down to ask Wyatt if he’s okay as he continues to cry. Cassie peers up and finds me across the way. What the fuck? her wide eyes ask me. I shrug, then tense, but Ray’s too distracted to notice how we are wordlessly communing. I can’t help it. Cassie and I have a bond. That’s why I need to end it.

Coming to his senses, Brady runs over to his son and envelops him in his arms. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let you have the phone. With your mom not here, we all have to step up.”

My mind starts racing through all the reasons Mona might have skipped this trip she meticulously planned, scenarios growing more tragic by the second. Despite myself, despite generally trying to avoid Mona, I find I’m worried about her too.

I feel the aura of Santa Cruz before I see it, an enveloping calm like a sound bath. The island’s been sitting on the horizon throughout the ride, amorphous blue ridges like impenetrable clouds. Suddenly it’s before us, no longer sheened in the azure haze of morning, but rolling green hills, exposed and luminous. The bluffs look like the shoreline of Ireland. They are that awesome and humbling.

“Papa, Daddy,” Kai shouts, pointing to a sea lion in the water.

Ray lugs his body upright and stumbles toward me and our son. He puts his arm around me, whispering “Sorry.” I let him nestle his chin into my shoulder as the island grows larger before us. He smells strongly of vomit, so I shift away to breathe in the ocean instead. I let him hold me, though. An act of forgiveness.

In my periphery, Cassie slips her arms around her husband, kissing his cheek. I lick the salt from my lips and rub the water’s crust off my hands as I stare down at my ruined shoes. You have to pack out all your trash. I can’t even get rid of them until we return to the mainland.

I’m not sure if Cassie’s uncharacteristic PDA is on my account or if she’s just being here, in this radiant place, with her husband and daughter. Either way, it lets me know I’m doing the right thing.

This weekend, I’m going to end things with Cassie. Because Cassie’s getting too attached, and it can’t go on any longer without someone getting hurt.