“Everyone has baggage,” he says. “Even you. Just because yours is a different shape and size doesn’t mean it’s not heavy too.”
Greta narrows her eyes at him. “When did you get so philosophical?”
“I think it’s all this water,” he says, turning back to the window. “It’s getting to me.”
“It’s not just about…baggage,” Greta says after a moment. “Our lives are so different. He’s worried because his daughter might need surgery. I’m worried because—”
“You have to play the guitar this weekend.”
Greta stiffens automatically, searching for the usual air of dismissal inside the words. But it doesn’t seem to be there. So she nods.
Conrad considers this for a moment. “But that’s what makes you happy.”
“I mean, it will if it goes well,” she says cautiously, still unsure where he’s headed with this. She gives him a funny look. “Are you drunk right now or something?”
He laughs and shakes the ice in his glass. “It’s after noon and I’m on the last day of a cruise I was supposed to be taking with my late wife to celebrate our anniversary. Of course I’m drunk. But I’m still allowed to have a chat with my daughter, aren’t I?”
“I guess,” she says flatly. “It’s just…kind of weird.”
“Asher told me you’ve been having a hard time,” he admits. “That’s why he thought this trip would be a good idea.”
Greta frowns. “For who?”
“For you,” he says as if this should be obvious. “He thought it might help if you came along.”
“Right,” she says. “Help you.”
Conrad looks confused. “No, help you. Why would it be to help me?”
“Because you were supposed to be here with Mom,” Greta says, feeling like she’s fallen into some sort of alternate reality. “It would’ve been too sad for you to come by yourself.”
“I wouldn’t have been alone,” he says slowly, as if explaining something to a very small child. “I would’ve had the Fosters and the Blooms.”
Greta throws up her hands. “That’s what I said!”
“To who?”
“It’s what I said to Asher when he asked me to come on this trip to keep you company.”
“He told you to come here to help me?” Conrad asks, and Greta nods, relieved that they’re finally on the same page. “And he told me that it would help you?”
“Pretty much.”
Conrad sits with this a moment. “Wow.”
“Yeah. He basically Parent Trapped us. On a boat.”
“It’s a ship.”
“Oh my god. Who cares?” Greta says, tipping her head back with a groan. “Why is everyone so concerned about this? Are you worried I’m going to hurt the ship’s feelings?” She searches for her phone. “What time is it anyway?”
Conrad checks his watch. “Twelve-thirty.”
“Great,” she says, looking around for a waiter. “Because I could really use a drink too.”
When she turns around again, he’s laughing at her.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he says with a grin. “I just…I don’t mind that he tricked us.”
Later, Greta will give Asher all sorts of grief for this. She’ll call him a puppet master. She’ll tell him he owes her. But right at this moment, and much to her surprise, she has to admit that she doesn’t mind either.
Chapter Thirty-One
Before the variety show, they go for a drink at the Starboard Saloon, and Greta spots a stray pack of cards on one of the tables.
“Let’s see what you got, Houdini,” she says, sliding them over to Conrad as they sit down. He shakes the cards from the box, looking handsome and relaxed in his shirt and tie.
“It’s been a while,” he says as he begins to shuffle, but then he fans out the deck with businesslike precision, nodding at the cards in his hands. “Pick one.”
She does. “Now what?”
“Now you give it back,” he says. “But don’t tell me what it is.”
He’s got this funny little half-smile on his face as he starts to shuffle again, like maybe he’s enjoying himself. But then he loses it mid-bridge and the cards go flying everywhere. Greta slides off the chair to start picking them up, while Conrad sits there, surveying the mess.
“I think I’m too old for this.”