“All right,” she said. “We’ll talk later.”
Gwen ended the call and stood at the bathroom sink, staring down at the white porcelain and the shiny stainless steel drain. She washed her hands, dried them on the towel, and checked her face in the mirror.
When she finally emerged from the bathroom, Peter was at the window, gazing out at the water. He turned as she approached. “Everything okay?”
“Yes,” she replied. “He says he wants to pick me up at the airport when I get back and talk.” She glanced around the room. “Where’s my prosecco? Oh, there it is.” She moved to the bedside table, picked it up, and tried not to guzzle the whole glass in one gulp.
“Listen,” Peter said. “I’ll completely understand if you want to go home early. I can finish up the research here and share everything with you when I get back to LA.”
Gwen whirled around to face him. “What? No. I’m not going home early. This is too important. I’m staying.”
His shoulders relaxed slightly. “Okay. I’m glad to hear that.”
She joined him at the window, where they stood side by side, watching the clouds float over the tall mountain peaks.
Gwen pointed. “Oh, look. There’s an eagle.”
The large bird of prey circled a few times over the water, then flew directly toward them, coasting low on the wind. He soared upward and over the lodge.
“How gorgeous was that?” Peter said.
“What an incredible wingspan.”
They watched the sky for a moment, and then Gwen finished her prosecco. “Should we get dressed for dinner?”
Peter checked his watch. “Yes.” He turned to go. “Come and knock on my door when you’re ready.”
“I will.” He left her room and closed the door behind him, leaving Gwen alone with her thoughts.
They coasted to Valerie. Gwen wondered how many times she had enjoyed this view while waiting to give birth to her baby. She must have felt very alone when she’d first arrived. It must have been daunting, not knowing what her future would hold.
There were many things Gwen finally understood about Valerie, yet she still had questions—like how long it had taken her to feel at peace with her decision to pursue her career and her art and let go of the dream of motherhood. Or had she ever truly been at peace? Was that even possible? It was a question Gwen had asked herself many times over the past two years. She had yet to determine the answer.
CHAPTER 28
Cruising fast and steadily through the fjord, theWanderer IIdelivered a vibrant and eclectic wilderness tour that included birds, animals, and marine life, as well as a narrative about geological events as far back as the Ice Age.
Gwen and Peter wore the hats and scarves they’d purchased in the gift shop the night before and stood at the rail on the upper deck for optimal viewing. They spotted two killer whales, scores of porpoises and sea otters, and white mountain goats high on the steep cliffs. Peter captured all of it with his Nikon camera, secure on a strap around his neck. He changed lenses often, clicking, then cocking the shutter to click again. He photographed Gwen as well, sometimes discreetly when she wasn’t looking, although she was constantly aware of his movements. Other times he asked her to smile or look up at the sky or down at the water before he took her picture.
There were at least fifty other passengers on board, but at times Gwen felt as if they were the only ones. She found herself watching Peter when his attention was fixed on whatever he was seeing through his viewfinder. During those moments, she studied his hands and the breadth of his shoulders and the way his jeans pooled around his hiking boots.
Then she thought of her conversation with Eric, and she felt guilty for looking at another man like this, for admiring him physically and feeling a connection that seemed to be growing more obvious, and mutual, with every hour they spent together.
She’d wanted Eric back for more than a year, but now that it suddenly seemed possible, she felt only confusion and uncertainty.
The tour guide announced on the speaker system that they were approaching the Columbia Glacier. Gwen and Peter moved to the bow on the upper deck, watching as they drew near.
“Wow.” Peter’s gaze roamed across the magnificent sculpted wall of ice.
“It’s so much bigger than I expected,” Gwen said.
Looking down at the water below, she was mesmerized by hundreds of large and small chunks of ice floating past theWanderer IIas it forged its way closer to the glacier. The tour guide explained they were calledbergy bits—fragments of larger icebergs that had broken off the glacier and fallen into the sea.
The captain slowed the boat to a crawl. About a quarter mile out, he cut the engine, and the tour guide ended her commentary and switched off the microphone. Suddenly it was quiet, and they floated peacefully in the fjord between steep granite mountains sculpted over the centuries by the relentless flowing of the ice.
The silence was broken only by “white thunder” as the glacier calved, and a block of ice the size of a car tumbled into the sea. It sank deep, and the displacement of water caused a monstrous wave to rise. The sunken iceberg floated to the surface and gradually rolled over before finally relaxing on the swells. Everyone on the boat exclaimed with awe, and Peter and Gwen reached for each other’s hands.
TheWanderer IIremained for a half hour in the shadow of the grand structure, and the glacier was active that morning. It entertained them with its noisy cracks and falling fragments. It was a while beforePeter raised his camera to snap pictures. He was more interested in the experience than in the effort to capture it on film.
