Eleanor stumbles forward a step. “How on earth is anyone meant to dance in this?”
“That’s their whole job,” Mary says. “They’re obviously trained for it, which means they can handle—”
The ship lurches hard to the left, and someone crashes into Greta from behind, shoving her straight into Davis, who laughs as he helps right her again.
“Guess we know how you’d do onstage in this,” he jokes. But Greta isn’t listening. When she turns to see who nearly managed to take her out, she finds herself face-to-face with Ben. He looks as surprised as she is, and there’s an awkward beat as they stare at each other.
Eleanor Bloom is the first to speak: “Jack London!”
Ben glances over at her. He’s wearing the same tweed jacket as the day of his lecture, elbow patches and all, and his hair has been neatly combed. On his red tie, there are tiny embroidered dinosaurs.
“My friends call me Ben,” he says after a moment, an effort at humor that collapses entirely when he turns to Greta, straight-faced and serious. “Sorry about that. Guess I still don’t quite have my sea legs.”
“Gets a lot harder after dinner,” Davis says, miming a drink, then shrugs in response to Mary’s look. “At least for me.”
Ben steals a glance at Greta. He looks like he’s about to say something, but she beats him to it. “Everything work out with the tooth fairy?”
He gives her a pained look. “Yes. Thanks.”
The doors are open now, and people are starting to file into the theater, hurrying to get the best seats.
“You going to the show?” Davis asks Ben, who—much to Greta’s surprise—nods.
“You are?” she can’t help asking. “Why?”
Eleanor and Mary both snap their mouths into thin, disapproving lines, a couple of substitute moms mindful of her manners. But she ignores them.
“I like musical theater,” Ben says stiffly.
“Yeah, but…on a boat?”
“It’s a ship,” he says, and she rolls her eyes.
“I bet you five bucks one of the dancers bites it.”
“Greta!” Mary says, looking shocked.
But Davis laughs. “I’d take that money,” he says to Ben, who doesn’t seem to hear him. His eyes are locked on Greta’s. He looks like he’s trying very hard not to be amused.
After a moment, he clears his throat. “I should probably…”
“Yeah,” Greta says. “Enjoy the show.”
“You too,” he says, then nods at the others and heads inside.
“Goodness,” says Eleanor once he’s gone. “What did you do to him?”
Inside the auditorium, they find a row of seats toward the back. Greta goes in first, then Eleanor, then Mary, then Davis, who takes the aisle since his legs are so long. A minute later, Todd appears with his field guide tucked under one arm.
“Ah, go on,” Eleanor says, rolling her eyes at him as Greta shifts over to make room. “You brought a book?”
He shrugs. “Just in case.”
“In case of what? A mystery bird decides to join us?”
“You never know,” he says with a grin.
Around them, people chatter excitedly. There’s another show at ten, so this one is filled with the early-to-bed crowd. In the back, there’s a fleet of walkers and wheelchairs, and about two seconds after sitting down, the man directly in front of Greta pops up and tells his wife that he needs to use the bathroom one more time before the show starts. This spurs three others around him to do the same.
Just before the lights dim, Greta spots Ben. He’s sitting a couple rows in front of her but off to the side, so that when he turns to scan the audience, their eyes meet. He looks away again immediately, but she can see the effort it takes in the tensing of his shoulders, and something about that lifts her spirits.
“Here we go,” Eleanor whispers as the first notes of music begin to play, and Greta has a sudden memory of seeing The Nutcracker with the three of them—her mom and Mary and Eleanor—when she was about twelve. The Blooms’ daughter, Brigid, was old enough to more convincingly refuse, and the rest of the kids—Asher, Jason, and Jason’s two older brothers—would never be caught dead at the ballet. So it was only Greta who sat glumly at the end of the row, tugging at the collar of the dress she hadn’t wanted to wear.
When the lights went down, her mom leaned close. “Just you wait,” she whispered. “It’ll be magical.”