Richie Ryan pressed his face up against the glass window of the shuttle bus pulling into the Port of Miami. "Is that it?" he asked, awed. "That's our ship?"
"That's it," Duncan said, absently patting the cruise tickets in his pocket. Tessa had been warning him since they left the airport in Seacouver that he'd better not lose them. He'd been promising her a cruise since long before Richie came to live with them. Bringing the teenager along hadn't exactly thrilled her, but with Felicia Martins maybe still in Seacouver Duncan had persuaded her that Richie should come on the trip. She smiled tolerantly now at Richie's enthusiasm and studied the huge supership in front of them with an excitement of her own.
"It's much bigger than I thought," she admitted.
"It looks just like Kathie Lee's ship," Richie said, and Tessa nodded.
Duncan asked, "Who is this Kathie Lee person you've been talking about all week?"
"Does the cruise ship commercials," Richie said. "You know, Kathie Lee Gifford?"
"Don't you remember the Regis and Kathie Lee talk show?" Tessa asked.
Duncan frowned. "No."
"You've got to watch more television," Richie said.
"Well, I don't know about Kathie Lee's ship, but this one has over twenty three hundred passengers," Duncan noted as the van pulled to a stop and the driver began unloading their luggage for the porters. The pier bustled with passengers arriving for the four p.m. departure, and the South Florida sun beat down on them out of a flawlessly blue sky. "Eight hundred staff, twelve decks, two pools, two dining rooms, and six bars - all off limits to you, Richie."
"How come?" Richie protested, jumping out of the van.
"Because you're too young," Tessa told him. She curled up against Duncan and kissed him on the cheek. "Do you have the tickets?"
"Yes," he answered patiently. "I have the tickets."
They checked their luggage, went through the passenger departure lounge to the ticket counters, and then walked up the gangplank to the ship's lobby. Richie ground to a stop just inside, staring at the three-story glass and chrome atrium, the indoor waterfall, and the glittering ocean just outside the floor-to-ceiling windows. Despite the additional cost and anticipated irritation, Duncan was suddenly glad they'd brought him and not left him alone in Seacouver.
"Man," Richie breathed, "this is the most expensive place I've ever been in."
"One day we'll get you on the Queen Elizabeth," Duncan teased.
Tessa pinched him good-naturedly. "Not before me, you don't."
An assistant purser brought them to Tessa and Duncan's deluxe stateroom on the Bridge deck. A double bed, sofa, entertainment center, private verandah, liquor bar and refrigerator greeted them, along with a large basket of freshly cut flowers and a bottle of champagne on ice. After dropping off their carry-on bags they went down to Richie's small, inside cabin two decks down, the best the travel agent could do on short notice. Although not nearly as opulent as the stateroom it guaranteed some privacy for all of them and Richie didn't seem to mind. He tested his mattress once for bounciness, then grabbed his ship's map and the daily calendar of events. The discovery of an ice cream party currently being hosted on the pool deck sent him nearly running down the passage.
"See you guys later!" he said just before disappearing.
Duncan wrapped Tessa in his arms. "Much later," he muttered, nuzzling up to her left ear and inhaling deeply of her perfume. He asked, "What do you think?"
"I think he'll be in heaven," Tessa smiled. "All the food he can eat and girls in bikinis."
"Did you bring your bikini?"
"Yes," Tessa said. "If you take me back to our room, I'll show you what else I brought."
By the time the ship eased out of port and into the channel they'd broken open the champagne and Tessa was modeling a very nice white leather and lace outfit. Naked and reclining against the pillows, Duncan had worked most of her outfit off with his teeth when the ship's mandatory overboard drill sounded. He fell back, groaning and laughing at the same time.
"We could skip it," he suggested.
With a high blush to her cheeks, Tessa reluctantly pulled her clothes back on and tossed him his pants. "They take attendance."
After the drill they hurried back to the cabin as fast as possible. Heady with the champagne, the sunlight, and the excitement of a new place, they made love on the soft mattress, scratchy rug and hot water of the bathroom shower before even thinking about dinner. The first night had open seating, and they found Richie chatting with two blonde teenage girls, sisters by the looks of them. He had piled his plate high from just about every offering on the buffet table.
"I hope you don't get seasick," Duncan said, eyeing the food.
"Me? Stomach of iron!" Richie grinned. "This is Tina and this is Holly. Their parents came for their anniversary."
"How do you do?" Tessa asked politely, introducing herself and Duncan.
Duncan was glad to see Richie had already made friends. Duncan felt better about devoting his hours to Tessa in the cabin if Richie could entertain himself. He seemed to have already explored half the ship, and recounted for them the splendors of the pool, casino, Jacuzzi, theater, disco, and observation deck.
They slept in late the next morning, content to lie in a tangled heap of limbs as the ship rocked beneath them. Richie called on the room phone at ten o'clock, to make sure "they were still alive." Tessa muffled her reaction to that in the pillow, while Duncan assured the teenager they were alive and enjoying the . . . sights.
"What are you going to do today?" Duncan asked the teen, as Tessa traced circles on his chest with the tips of her fingernails and planted kisses on the spots she'd marked. She shifted weight against him, her thighs pressing wickedly against his.
"I thought I'd go to the pool. They've got water aerobics in twenty minutes."
"Richie, I didn't think you'd go for water aerobics," Duncan said, distracted by Tessa's warm kisses trailing down towards his stomach.
"Not to do, to *watch,*" Richie laughed. "See you guys later."
"I think Richie's enjoying the cruise," Duncan said, taking the phone off the hook.
Tessa's head popped up from under the wrinkled sheets. "He's not the only one," she purred.
They had room service bring an early lunch, and it was one o'clock before they showered, dressed, and decided it might be nice to see the ship. They found nautical-themed lounges paneled in oak, a glittering casino full of jingling slot machines, and a Broadway-themed theater full of bingo players. Navigating the crowded pool deck, they finally spied Richie baking himself in the Jacuzzi with Tina and Holly. His skin already looked bright pink. Duncan lowered his sunglasses and said, "You might want to get out of the sun for awhile. At least put on more sunscreen."
"Nah," Richie said breezily, reaching for a tall mixed drink in a glass, "I'm fine." Duncan's eyes narrowed, and he was on the tip of reminding Richie that the drink better be non-alcoholic when he decided not to embarrass him in front of his friends.
"We'll see you at dinner," Tessa said. "Six o'clock seating, right?"
"Would I miss it?" Richie asked.
Tessa and Duncan explored the rest of the ship and then retired back to their stateroom for more lingerie modeling. They dressed up for dinner and were in line for the Mikado dining room at six p.m. sharp. The maitre'd took them to their assigned seating at a ten-person round table near the center of the dining room. A mother and daughter from Queens, New York had already taken two seats. A honeymooning couple in their late forties from Texas snagged the next two. A quarrelsome husband and wife from California arrived with a queasy-looking son in tow, claiming three more seats. But the tenth seat, next to Tessa, remained conspicuously empty.
"He couldn't have gotten lost," Tessa observed quietly to Duncan as their charming waiter Felipo distributed menus.
"Maybe he forgot," Duncan said.
"Richie forget dinner? It's more likely that he fell overboard."
"Not funny, Tessa," Duncan returned. He didn't want to even think about the likelihood of Richie falling overboard. The kid attracted danger and trouble and accidents like a magnet. If there was an international illegal alien or smuggling ring on board, Richie would have found it. If terrorists were plotting to blow up the engine room, Richie would have been the one to stumble across their nefarious plot. Soup and salad came and went before Duncan put aside his napkin, excused himself, and went to Richie's cabin. He knocked briskly on the door. "Richie? You in there?"
"Go away!" the teenager called from inside.
Duncan listened intently for the sounds of female giggling, half convinced that Richie had persuaded one of the blonde sisters to his mattress. But he heard only silence.
"Richie, open this door right now," Duncan threatened. He would have to get a second key from the ship's purser - after all, he was the one who'd paid for the cabin.
Hesitation. "Is Tessa with you?"
"No. Do you want me to get her?" Duncan tried to imagine what it was Richie would need Tessa for. After the Felicia Martins fiasco, Richie seemed reluctant to ask Tessa for any help at all. And surely the teenager had noticed Tessa's irritation at a romantic cruise for two being turned into a psuedo-family vacation for three. A purser passed in the passage and Duncan shuffled on the blue carpet, feeling like an idiot for conversing with a door.
"No," Richie finally said. After a long minute the handle turned and the door eased open. Before Duncan made it into the dark cabin the teenager was back in bed. Meager light spilled out of the ajar bathroom door, and icy air conditioning blasted out of the overhead vents.
"What is the matter with you?" Duncan demanded, annoyance partially giving way to concern. "Are you seasick?"
"No," Richie muttered into his pillow. "Go away."
"Richie, I'm not going away," Duncan said firmly. He sat on the edge of the bunk and turned on a side lamp. In an instant he realized what had happened. Beneath a loose T-shirt and bathing suit, Richie's skin had baked lobster-red.
"Don't say it," Richie shivered. "I know."
Duncan suppressed the urge to gloat. He couldn't imagine how painful the sunburn had to be. It covered his face, neck, shoulders, back, stomach, legs. His eyelids were swollen. He shivered violently, probably from the air conditioning.
"I won't say it," Duncan sighed. "How long have you been lying here?"
One shoulder nudged upward in a careful shrug. "I guess I came down about four o'clock. I really didn't feel good."
"And now?"
"Worse."
"I bet." Duncan tried to think of remedies for sunburns. He wondered if Tessa had packed anything that might help. "Are you hungry?"
"No."
That was a bad sign. Richie was *always* hungry.
"I'm going to go get Tessa," Duncan said, preparing to move, but Richie's hand caught him with a strong grip.
"No, don't," he pleaded. "She'll just laugh."
"She's not going to laugh."
"Then she'll be pissed off," Richie said, squinting at him painfully. "Let me die in peace, okay?"
"You're not going to die," Duncan promised. "You just feel like it."
Duncan left Richie in the bed and went to search through the teenager's baggage. For bathroom toiletries, Richie had packed shaving cream, razors, soap, deodorant, acne cream, two hair brushes, aspirin, and a box of condoms. Duncan thought the condoms were optimistic. He shook out two aspirin for the teenager and made him sit up to swallow them down. "Drink all the water, too," Duncan instructed. "Burns can make you dehydrated."
Richie did so, managing to look the very picture of misery. He hitched the blanket up further, hissing as it made contact with his deep red skin.
"Are you cold?" Duncan asked.
"No."
"Hot?"
"No."
"Hmmm," Duncan answered. He turned down the air conditioner to a temperature more suited for humans than polar bears. He wet the washcloths in the tiny bathroom and brought them back, telling Richie to drape them over his face and chest. Then he consulted the ship's directory of services and called the infirmary. It was closed, but the purser forwarded the call to the ship's doctor.
Duncan took some careful notes and then said, "Come on, you're coming up to our cabin."
"How come?"
"Because we have a bathtub, and you don't. The doctor suggested a nice cool bath. Plus aspirin, fluids, aloe if we have any, no sunlight, and lots of rest."
Richie eased out of bed, slipping his feet into plastic flip-flops. Even the tops of his feet had fried in the sunlight. He watched Duncan grab an extra pair of shorts and some shirts from Richie's suitcase. "I can't go out into public," he complained. "People are going to look at me funny."
"So let them look," Duncan said pragmatically. "Everybody's been sunburned at one time or another."
Up in the deluxe cabin he ran the bathwater and made sure Richie was in the tub safely before leaving the teenager alone. He was rummaging through Tessa's toiletries bag when she appeared, miffed at his disappearance from dinner. "Where have you been?" she asked. "Where's Richie? He's not in his cabin."
Duncan nodded towards the bathroom and motioned for her to keep her voice down.
"What's wrong?" Tessa asked.
"Sunburn."
"Sunburn?" Tessa squeaked. "For that you abandon me?"
"Wait and see," Duncan said. He produced a bottle of aloe vera from Tessa's bag and went into the bathroom. Richie had slouched down in the tub, a cold cloth draped over his face. "Try this when you get out," he suggested.
"Green goop?"
"Yes, green goop." Duncan caught Tessa trying to peek around the door and pulled her back into the cabin.
Richie appeared fifteen minutes later, looking appropriately sheepish when Tessa gasped in surprise. For a moment all he could do was fidget as she stared in disbelief.
"Even your *ears* are sunburned!" she finally exclaimed.
Richie's hands moved up to cover his ears. "I know," he muttered, throwing a helpless look towards Duncan. "I'm going back downstairs."
"No you're not," Duncan said. "You're going to sleep here, on the sofa, where we can keep an eye on you."
"Mac, it's just a sunburn!" Richie protested. Tessa glowered at Duncan from behind the teen, sending an unspoken message that clearly said she didn't want him sleeping in their cabin.
"And if you have fever or chills, the doctor said it could be very serious," Duncan admonished. "I already had the purser bring up extra sheets. There's apple juice in the refrigerator, drink some of that."
Tessa went into the bathroom and closed the door firmly behind her. Duncan shook out the sheets and made up the sofa for Richie. He wasn't sure what else to do for the teenager, so he put on the television and turned it to the movie channel. He sat on the edge of his bed, wondering what Tessa was doing in the bathroom.
"I told you she'd be pissed," Richie muttered.
"She's not mad," Duncan said.
"She didn't want me to come."
"Drink your juice."
Tessa emerged a few minutes later, impassivity stamped on her features. "I'm going to the casino," she said, very clearly. "Richie, do you need anything?"
"No," he said miserably, huddling beneath his sheet.
"I'll see you both later."
Duncan debated letting her go off in a huff, but then caught up to her in the hall. "What are you so mad about?" he demanded.
"I'm not mad!" Tessa snapped. "I'm going to the casino."
"Tessa, I can't believe you're being so childish."
"Childish?" she demanded. "I'm not the one who got burned to a crisp because I wouldn't put on sunscreen."
"Childish," Duncan repeated firmly. "He made a mistake and is paying for it. Just because things aren't going according to the way you want them to be - "
"I didn't ask you to bring him," Tessa interrupted. "This was going to be our special trip, but you insisted he come too. This was going to be all about us, but now we'll end up playing nursemaid for a week."
Duncan knew she was jealous of the attention he'd been paying to Richie - Christ, someone needed to pay attention to him - but had never suspected how deep the jealousy had burrowed. "I was wrong, Tessa. You're not being childish. You're just being selfish."
He stormed away, leaving her speechless, and went back to find Richie only half-heartedly watching a Mel Gibson movie. Duncan took off his dinner clothes, changing into shorts and a shirt, and plopped down on the bed.
"You don't have to babysit me," Richie said in a small voice. "Go do something."
"I'm doing exactly what I want to do. Do you want more aspirin?"
"No." A full moment of silence passed. "Mac . . . ."
"Richie," Duncan said, without turning around, "don't worry about it."
The next time he checked, Richie had fallen into a restless sleep. Duncan checked him for signs of a fever but it was hard to tell with the heat already radiating out of his skin. Well, there was another advantage of Immortality Richie could look forward to one day. Sunburns never lasted more than a few minutes. Duncan went out on the balcony and watched the dark sea slide by beneath the dark sky. A romantic sight, especially with the stars hanging low in the sky, but he had no one but a sleeping and sunburned teenager to share the sight with.
He went to bed feeling bad about his parting words to Tessa. At some point during the night she slipped into the cabin, because he woke around dawn with her cradled in his arms. She was staring at him.
"Hey," he mumbled, shielding his morning breath from her. It felt awkward to hold her, considering what he'd said the previous night. He tried to shift, but she stayed where she was.
"Hey," she answered softly.
"You okay?"
"Yes. You?"
"Fine," he lied. They kept their voices down, although from the snores on the sofa there seemed little chance of Richie overhearing. Through the glass door to the verandah they could see the sun beginning to slip up past the blue horizon.
"I'm afraid," Tessa admitted.
His hold on her tightened fractionally. "Of what?"
"Change," she said, dropping her gaze to his chest. "Sharing you. For twelve years we've been two as one."
"We're still two as one," Duncan promised her, kissing her gently on the forehead. For a long time they said nothing, merely held each other as the ship's engines throbbed deep in the hold of the ship and the sun and sky slid by outside.
Tessa roused herself out of bed at seven to go to the morning aerobics on the Promenade Deck. By the time she came back Richie and Duncan were both awake and hovering over breakfast trays from room service. The movie channel was back on, showing a Harrison Ford release, and the verandah deck let in the salty morning breeze. Richie's sunburn seemed even worse by the light of day, and almost every movement made him hiss with pain, but he would probably survive. Tessa put her finger under his chin and lifted his face.
"Tea bags," she announced.
"What?" he asked, bewildered.
"Wet tea bags," she said. "They'll soothe your eyelids." She curled up onto the sofa beside him and picked up a piece of toast to munch on. "Ask me about the worst sunburn I ever had."
Watching her, admiring her, Duncan obligingly asked her about the worse sunburn of her life.
"I was twenty one, backpacking around France with my cousins," Tessa said. "We wound up in Cannes, on the beach right after the Film Festival. It's a topless beach, you know. And I didn't wear sunscreen. That night, sleeping and sliding all over the vinyl train seat, was the worst night I ever spent."
Richie eyed sports bra and damp tank top speculatively. "You got burnt on the . . . "
"A lady doesn't tell," Tessa said, with a wicked grin.
Richie smiled. Duncan breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that an unexpected milestone had been passed. In a cruise ship cabin far at sea, of all places.
Richie's sunburn kept him in the cabin for the rest of the day, drinking juice and taking aspirin and going through two more bottles of aloe vera bought at the ship's store. He seemed depressed about missing out on the ship's activities, muttering glumly about how the whole cruise was a waste, but Tessa rounded up the blonde sisters to come down and play Scrabble with him on a set borrowed from the game room. The next day Richie was well enough to venture around the ship exhibiting a shade of red only a few degrees lighter than the fire extinguishers on the bulkheads. He stayed on the ship when they docked in Jamaica, letting Tessa and Duncan have some time together, but went with them around Grand Cayman wearing a long sleeved shirt, a hat, several layers of sunblock, and green zinc oxide on his nose.
"He says he's learned his lesson," Duncan said to Tessa, in the privacy of their reclaimed cabin, late that evening after several hours of lovemaking left them drowsy and content.
"Me too," Tessa said.
"Me too," Duncan echoed.
She propped herself up one elbow, her long hair falling across his shoulder. "What lesson did *you* learn?"
"Next time we take Richie on a cruise," Duncan said, "we're going to Alaska."
The phone cut off any retort Tessa might have made. Duncan cradled it between both their heads. "Yes?"
"Mac?"
"What's wrong, Richie?"
"Who said anything's wrong?" the teenager's voice held more than a note of defensiveness.
"Okay, nothing's wrong," Duncan said agreeably. "Why do you sound funny?"
"I don't sound funny," Richie said.
Tessa spoke up. "What's wrong, Richie, are you sick? Why else would you call after midnight?"
Richie hesitated. Duncan wondered if he was going to have to go down there and see what the teenager's problem was. But Richie blurted out, "It's just that I'm lying here in bed, going nuts."
"Why are you 'going nuts?'" Duncan asked.
"Because I'm itching in places I didn't even know I had," Richie groaned. "Do you have anything for peeling?"
Tessa and Duncan just laughed.