(Readers, this is a fictional story, inspired by IRL events. The description of the cruise ship and the elements of it (except for one) are accurate as I recall them. Some, but not all, of the character's conversations and actions are inspired by actual past experiences. Please forgive the slow build... I hope you find it worth it at the end. This may or may not become a multi-part story. Thanks in advance for your time to read, to submit your ratings, and offer your feedback!)
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So, I'm about to take my first cruise.
My wife of 29 years, Amanda, died of cancer a little over three years ago.
Her last words to me were "Phil, keep living a full life. It's what you're *supposed* to do. I know I'll see you again someday. You can tell me all about it then."
And then she went to sleep. She died quietly about an hour later.
Amanda and I loved to travel. We went all over the U.S., and the world. She just hated the idea of being "stuck on a boat." So we never went on a cruise.
Earlier this year I won a cruise as part of an industry contest. The top five performers nationwide earned a four-day cruise on Royal Caribbean's "Oasis of the Seas."
My two daughters are delighted. They are experienced cruisers; they just could never convince their mother to go along.
My girls are also urging me to get back into a relationship... my oldest daughter, Paige, especially.
"Daddy, you're still young," Paige lectures me between holes during our weekly golf match at our local club.
"I know you still miss Mom. We all do.
"But you're only fifty-seven. You're in shape. You're taking care of yourself.
"You're attractive. You're funny as hell."
Paige stops the cart, retrieves her bag, and strides to her tee box.
Paige sets a tee and places her ball on it.
"Remember when you and mom met?" Paige continues. "You weren't looking for her and she wasn't looking for you.
"But you ended up in the same place at the same time... for some crazy reason. It was like it was just *supposed* to happen."
Paige selects her club and adjusts her stance. Then she looks over at me.
"You have to be open for that opportunity again, Daddy. That's how I met Bobby. That's how Mandy met Steven.
"Mom wanted you to live your live to the fullest. She told you that."
Paige re-adjusts her stance and glares at the ball.
"I know that she meant for you to be open to another relationship... because she told *me* that.
Paige looks up from the ball, and directly at me.
"Mandy and I can't do this for you, Daddy, even if we wanted to."
Paige swings at the ball and sails it straight into a sand trap on the right side of the fairway.
"Fuck!" Paige exclaims. "Fuck, fuck, FUCK!!" Then she glares at me.
"THAT one is on you, Daddy," she mutters.
Paige's lecture delivered, we finish the round. Which she wins... as usual.
It's taken me months to get up the nerve to travel alone. Then, when I pick the date, it conflicts with school and soccer and gymnastics and all the things cluttering up my daughter's kids' lives. We finally give up and decided that a family vacation isn't in the cards.
So, I'm going by myself. And here I am... on embarkation day.
The girls have loaded me down with long lists of "do thisses" and "don't do that's." So I feel adequately prepared. Maybe.
It's still my first time traveling alone, for a reason other than business.
I'm standing at the check-in desk alongside a woman in the line next to mine.
My first glance in her direction immediately demands a double-take. She is a decidedly beautiful woman!
She is petite -- maybe five-foot-four -- and her body is perfectly proportioned to her frame.
She has shoulder-length graying hair, with a hint of blonde remaining. I would guess she's in her mid- to late-fifties, although I'm an awful judge of such things.
Her shoulders are square and allow an ample bosom to ride high on her chest. Her butt and calves lend strong credence to a woman who takes care of herself on the regular.
The skin on her face, neck, and arms (that I can see) is taut and smooth. She all but radiates vigor and vitality.
She has a sharp jawline that matches her short but not-to-thin nose. Proportionally sized lips present an almost perpetual grin.
Her eyes are a rich blue color and they twinkle wherever she looks. I notice that because she glances my way, catching me all but staring at her. And she smiles at me.
There's something about this woman. She just... resonates. She has a confidence and a power, even, like you'd find in an actress or a leading model, or even a top ten influencer on Instagram or TikTok.
She's with a younger woman who's absolutely gorgeous and a school-aged child who is unquestionably adorable. Good genes, I guess, if they're related.
I assume they're all traveling together.
Our respective desk attendants finish checking us in at almost the exact same time.
"The gangway is right beyond that 'this way to ships' sign," my attendant directs me.
As I grab my carry-on and head that direction, I'm aware that there are hugs and "goodbye, Gramma" and "love you" and "have a fabulous time" wishes coming from the trio the next line over.
I'm about ten steps toward my destination when I hear a voice coming from behind me.
"I have a theory," the voice cheerfully calls out, "that the first people you see when you're checking in on a cruise end up being people you see most often the whole trip."
I stop and turn and I'm greeted by the beaming smile of the woman who was in line beside me.
"Want to test out my theory?" she continues as she closes the gap between us.
"My name is Susan." And she extends her right hand toward me.
"Hi, Susan," I reply as I take her hand. It's warm and soft and particularly welcoming.
"I'm Phil. Nice to meet you."
I nod my head toward our destination.
"And I guess the best way to test your theory is right this way."
Then I do something that's unconventional for me. I shift my carry-on and extend my right arm in a manner that encourages this beautiful stranger to link hers in mine.
Susan gives a little laugh, rearranges her carry on gear, and slips her left arm through my right.
"Ooh, such a gentleman," Susan coos.
"Maybe I should keep an eye on you after we set sail!"
We both chuckle and continue toward the gangway.
It's hard to go anywhere these days when you're not presented with opportunities to spend extra money wherever you are.
Best example: Theme parks have a ride-specific gift shop at the exit to every attraction.
Cruise ships are no different, I discover; they have on-board photographers to take souvenir photos at almost every opportunity. They'll happily sell them to you before you leave the ship.
Just as Susan and I turn the corner to head to the gangway we're presented with several cheerful photographers with portable roll-up backgrounds of the ship and Caribbean destinations.
"Start off your cruise with a photo?" a lovely and vivacious young girl in a "Royal Caribbean Photo" polo shirt asks.
"Oh, we've just met," I reply, without thinking. "We're not traveling together."
"Oh, but let's get a picture anyway," Susan cajoles. "Something to remember you by, maybe."
Susan drops her bags and un-links her arm, but then takes my right hand in hers. I drop my carry-on and arrange myself so we're somewhat shoulder-to-shoulder.
