for doing once Bill retired. They’d done their share of camping when the kids were small—nothing Catherine had enjoyed but she’d been a sport. They’d finally bought an RV, something Bill had always wanted, and had taken a couple of short trips in it. Those trips had been fun but she’d still had to cook and clean. The idea of taking a vacation where she didn’t have to do anything but enjoy the scenery had appealed strongly to her.
“We’ll take a cruise as soon as I retire,” he’d promised after she’d showed him yet another cruise brochure, and they’d gotten passports.
But then, two years before he could retire, he’d had a massive heart attack and died, and she’d abandoned the idea of taking that cruise. In fact, she’d abandoned the idea of doing much of anything.
Now here she was, with the dream coming true. Bill would have loved this. They should never have waited. Life, she was coming to realize, had to be lived in the now because you could head for the future only to discover when you got there you didn’t have the one you’d planned on.
She certainly hadn’t planned on losing Bill, who’d always been so healthy, and she’d never dreamed she’d be facing what lay ahead of her. Somehow, she’d gotten it into her head that by sixty-one she’d dodged the cancer bullet. But when it came to cancer there was no cutoff date, no safe zone.
Denise finally awoke with a snort. She saw Catherine next to her, wide-awake, and stretched and smiled. “Did I snore?”
“Only a little. Very delicate.”
“Did you sleep at all?”
“I guess I’m too excited,” Catherine said.
“Well, then, let’s get up and check out the rest of the ship. We can grab a bite and relax until the welcome program at six.”
They freshened up, then went down the narrow hallway, back through the lobby and up the few stairs to the next level where their map of the ship showed the lounge to be.
“I’m going to be in heaven,” Denise predicted, checking out the coffee station. “We can make everything from lattes to cappuccinos. Ooh, and cookies. I will definitely splurge tomorrow.”
“I will definitely splurge today,” Catherine said, and helped herself to one. “Delicious,” she reported.
The glass doors in front of them slid open, leading them into a huge area that was bigger than any lounge Catherine had ever been in. Windows ran along both sides of it, offering two different views of the city. The bar was centered so you passed it no matter which side of the ship you entered from, and it boasted almost more bottles than a liquor store. The rest of the lounge was filled with groupings of upholstered chairs and sofas and coffee tables. At the bow end, a long table displayed an elaborate gingerbread town, coated with frosting snow and sparkling with all manner of candies. Beyond that was a glass-enclosed space set up for casual dining with more tables and chairs and a buffet-style serving station.
The women went there first, helping themselves to crusty rolls, soup, cold cuts and salad, then circled back to the lounge, where several of their fellow cruisers had already staked out conversation areas.
Catherine caught sight of the woman who had sat next to her on the plane. The woman smiled and waved.
Catherine waved back. “Uh-uh,” she said to Denise, trying not to move her mouth.
“For sure uh-uh. Let’s start our own party,” Denise suggested, and headed for a grouping in the middle of the room.
Party. Catherine liked the sound of that.
They were barely seated before a server wearing a white jacket was in front of them, asking what they’d like to drink.
“Dirty martini,” said Denise. “Extra olives, please.”
Catherine wasn’t much of a drinker and she hesitated.
“Give her a rum and Coke,” said Denise. “You can pretend you’re back in college,” she told Catherine with a grin.
“That sounds good,” Catherine said. “And extra cherries, please.”
“Of course,” he murmured.
Denise sat back in her chair and surveyed the room. “This is the life. I think, instead of going into a nursing home when I’m older, I’ll live on a cruise ship. No cooking, no cleaning, someone to wait on me every day, and laundry service. Plus beautiful scenery.”
“But you’d only have the friends you made until the cruise ended. Then they’d leave and you’d be alone,” Catherine said. That felt too transient after having lost a husband. She wanted something more permanent.
As if anything was permanent. Who was she kidding?
“Then you’d make new