Page 38 of Wait for Me

Logan handed her a small, cold bottle of mineral water and a glass. “Should I pour it for you?”

“I can do it myself.” Marie thanked him for the water.

Logan led the way to the sliding glass door. Outside, the moon was out and the wind had subsided. Perhaps it was because each stateroom balcony was private, separated by a panel that acted like a windbreaker.

They stretched out on the lounge chairs.

“I suppose being a translator has its adventures,” Logan said.

“Yeah, no dull moments.” Marie seemed to wait for the next question.

Logan knew she wasn’t going to volunteer any information. It had been like that for a while.

“I have a confession to make.” Logan watched Marie’s face. That got her attention.

“You’re dying?”

“No. I’m as healthy as an Urquhart can be. It will take a lot to kill us.”

Marie flinched a little bit.

“Are you okay?” Logan asked. Was it what he just said?

Marie didn’t answer. She sipped her mineral water. Looked out into the night sea and sky and stars.

“I must tell you now, even if you’ll hate me, and even if we’ve had a good time onboard this ship. I think you need to know.” Logan was starting to feel better already even though he hadn’t said what it was.

“Go on.”

“Before we divorced, I hired a private investigator to follow you around Europe.”

“Cost you a pretty fortune.”

“You knew?”

“He didn’t know how to hide. I almost invited him to have a cup of coffee just to make him feel at home. Next time, hire someone from Europe. He might blend in better.”

Logan didn’t know what to say except, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too, that we could not communicate,” Marie said. “Tonight is your chance, Logan. Ask me anything. Maybe that will clear the air between us, and we can move forward as parents to Jonas.”

After all these years, Logan was stumped. “How’s your mom?”

“She’s fine. My father’s fine too, but he lost his sister last year.”

“I’m sorry. Aunt Juliette?”

Marie nodded. “You know she was ill for a long time. In the end, the cancer took her.”

“I’m very sorry.”

“She’s in heaven now, with her beloved husband. You remember they were married fifty years before he had the heart attack while working in his garden? He died in the middle of the flowers he had planted for his wife.”

“They had many wonderful years together.” It was all Logan could say.

“Many grandchildren,” Marie added. “But my family is not really what you want to ask about, right?”

Logan crossed his legs. “I don’t know what I want to know, really. I want us to be honest with each other, but we’re not married anymore, and it doesn’t seem like I have the right to ask you to tell me about the ninety percent of your life that I didn’t know about when we were married.”

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