“The bastard’s not home,” Marissa said.
“And he never leaves for the office before eight.”
“Maybe he’s on a business trip,” Wendy said.
“Fat chance,” Marissa said.
“He’s probably with Donna.”
“Now don’t jump to conclusions,” Wendy warned.
“There are probably plenty of explanations. Let’s see what happens to me.”
She sat up and dialed her number.
Marissa watched as Wendy waited. Finally Wendy dropped the receiver back into its cradle.
“Gustave’s not home either,” she said.
“Maybe they’re having breakfast together.” She tried to snidle.
Gustave is a surgeon,” Marissa said.
“What time does he usually leave for work?”
“About seven-thirty,” Wendy said.
“Unless he has surgery. It’s true he’s been doing a lot of surgery lately.”
“Well, there you go,” Marissa said.
“I suppose,” Wendy said. She didn’t sound convinced.
“Let’s go for a walk,” Marissa said. She stood up and stretched out a hand for her friend. Together they wandered out onto the beach. For a while neither of them said a word.
“I have a bad feeling about my marriage,” Marissa said at last.
“Lately Robert and I seem to see everything differently. It isn’t just the mess with Donna.”
Wendy nodded.
“I have to say this infertility business has put an enormous strain on Gustave and me.”
Marissa sighed.
“And to think of the promise our relationship started with.”
The women stopped. Their eyes had adjusted to the darkness.
Ahead they saw the silhouette of a couple nestled in an embrace.
“Makes me feel nostalgic,” Wendy said.
“And sad.”
“Me too,” Marissa agreed.
“Maybe we’d better head in another direction.”
They wandered back to the resort. There they happened to pass by a couple with a crying toddler in a stroller. Both the man and the woman were happily window-shopping, ignoring the wailing child.
“Can you believe those people, bringing such a small child out to an island like this?” Wendy said.
“Poor thing is probably sunburned.”
“I think it’s awful for them to keep the child up this late,” Marissa said with equal vehemence.
“It’s obvious the child is exhausted.”
Marissa caught Wendy’s eye. They both smiled at each other, then shook their heads.
“Envy is a terrible thing,” Wendy said.
“At least we recognize it for what it is,” Marissa said.
Wendy had Marissa up at the crack of dawn for a big English breakfast of coffee, eggs, bacon, and toast on their lanai. As they ate, a huge tropical sun rose into a cloudless sky. They got to the boat just before eight and the captain already had both diesels idling. After first tossing on board their shoulder bags with their bathing suits and other paraphernalia, Wendy and Marissa climbed over the gunwale.
“G’day!” Rafe said.
“Ready for adventure?”
“You bet,” Wendy said.
“You ladies mind lending a hand here?” Rafe asked.
“Not at all,” Wendy said.
“Then cast off those stern lines when I give a yell,” Rafe said.
He then went into the cabin. Wynn was already out on the bow making preparations. The sun glistened off his shirtless back.
Marissa felt the boat tremble as the engines were revved up.
Wynn began to release the bowlines.
“Okay, ladies,” Rafe yelled.
“Cast off.”
Wendy took the starboard line, Marissa the port. They slipped them from their cleats and tossed them onto the dock. With a shudder, the boat moved out of the slip.
Until they got out of the marina, Marissa and Wendy stayed in the stern, watching the activity in the bustling port. Once the boat reached open water and the captain increased their speed, they went forward to the cabin.
Wynn was still on the bow deck, lounging agaiast one of the two dinghies, smoking a cigarette. Marissa noticed he was sporting a different hat, one just as woebegone as the day before, but with a fishnet around the hatband for a decorative touch.
Marissa spotted something on deck that had not been there the day before: a cage made of heavy steel bars. At its top it was attached by a cable to one of the forward davits.
“What’s the cage for?” Marissa yelled over the sound of the engines. She pointed through the windshield.
“That there is a shark cage,” Rafe said, eyeing an upcoming buoy.