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After an evening stuckin my cabin ordering room-service, I’m excited to get off the ship at Grand Cayman: island of luxury vacations, British overseas territory, and fat-cat tax haven. This visit won’t be as exciting as my one previous trip here, on set for a financial espionage thriller. The female-lead had only one scene in need of a stunt double. Her character was a helpless little thing, as stupid as they write most women in movies like that. My part was pretty great, though. I had to escape from an underwater cage, bolted to the bottom of a reef, while sharks circled, banging their noses into the cage. The whole thing was free diving, filmed in three takes. I trained for a long time so I could hold my breath for seven and a half minutes straight during each take. Not bad, considering the world record is just shy of twelve minutes.
Today’s visit will be cushier. We’ve been picked-up dockside from the cruise terminal by the catamaran that will sail us through the North Sound to Stingray City, a sandbar with white sands, clear waters, and, of course, loads of stingrays.
I’ve avoided getting carried around by Sebastian, but I’ve promised Jamie not to lift a finger. I’m to allow myself to be waited on, with my ankle in a wrap and an ice pack on it at all times. Sebastian, once again joining our excursion, also feels vehemently about this plan. I feel pathetic, but I have to nurse my ankle back to health as fast as possible.
As we pull out of the harbor with the sails up, I lay back on the net at the front of the boat. Closing my eyes in the sunshine, I remember Sebastian laughing beside me on the catamaran netting the other night. How he leaned over me with that sarcastic little grin while making up stories about the honeymooners. I’ve never met anyone quite as conflicted about romance as he is. Except maybe me.
“Whatcha smiling about?” Sebastian’s voice makes my eyes fly wide as he sits close.
“Enjoying the sun.” I roll onto my belly with bent knees, so my ankle stays elevated, and there’s a little more space between us. Sebastian hands me an ice-cold Piña Colada, and I take it, even if it is ten in the morning. It’s already broiling hot.
Jamie, Oscar, Aniston, and his new lady friend come and sit around us, each one carrying their own tropical drink. The Reggaeton beats of Bad Bunny pump from a heavy sound system. With the boat arcing through the aquamarine waves, it feels like we’re in a music video. For a while, everyone is silent, swaying to the rhythm.
“So, what were you saying about having kids?” Aniston asks Oscar. My sexy music-video-bubble bursts.
“A couple friends were going to adopt, but they went with a surrogate,” Oscar says. “It’s so fraught. They’re constantly stressed. I can’t imagine ever doing that.”
“Do you want kids?” Jamie asks him.
“I do,” Oscar says. “With the right person, of course.” A small smile plays over his face, but he seems unable to meet Jamie’s eye.
“Doyouwant kids, Jamie?” Aniston asks, giving Oscar a teasing look.
“Well, yeah, with the right guy.” Jamie grins. “I’m sure I’d be a great dad. My kids would always have the best styled hair.” Oscar runs his hand through Jamie’s ponytail. Jamie’s cheeks suddenly match his microscopic, tomato-red Gucci swim shorts. “How about you?” Jamie asks Sebastian, as if he’s trying to deflect.
“I want them.” My eyebrows shoot up. Mr. Marriage-is-Dead wants a family? “I spent a long time worrying about whether I could be a decent dad,” Sebastian says. “My parents were shit. But I have exceptional grandparents, and I hope I’ve learned something from them. I also hope they’re still around when I have kids.” His voice goes soft at this last bit, and unfortunately, so does my heart. This isn’t supposed to be happening. I’m Anna, and I’m married. At least for this week.
“Awww,” Jamie says, laying a hand on Sebastian’s wrist. “That’s so sweet.” He gives me a pointed look. I know what he wants. He wants me to come clean and tell all these guys who I am. As he pointed out this morning, none of them know Anna and Mike, so none of them have any reason to care. But I’m not ready to tell. It would expose my sister to ridicule among strangers. Because honestly, her choice doesn’t scream “functional relationship with healthy boundaries,” now does it?
“What about you, Anna?” Oscar asks. “Do you and Mike want kids?” I jump, as if I’ve been projecting my thoughts across my forehead this whole time. Trying to snap back into character, I consider Anna’s answer to the kids question, but even that, I can’t share. She’s too worried about what Mike’s doing to consider children with him yet. I know she wants them, but she has some things to figure out first. But these people don’t know the real Anna, and they don’t need to know all that. I give my own answer instead.
“I’d love to have a family, one day,” I say, shrugging. “But with my filming on location so often, and everything that entails,” by which I mean the huge physical risks associated with being a stunt woman, “it’s something I’m going to have to put off for a while.”
“Isn’t Mike home most of the time?” Sebastian asks. “Why can’t he take care of your kids when you travel?” He looks annoyed. Mike could stand to take a page. I shrug, giving Sebastian what I know is a lukewarm smile, because what the hell am I supposed to say?
Clearly, I’ve made something awkward with my unenthusiastic response, because Oscar starts gossiping about Colin, who’s off with his new crush at some luxury beach club for the day. For the rest of the ride, half my mind is on my surroundings, but half stays focused on Sebastian’s long legs, which stretch in front of me, his feet keeping time to the music.
* * *
SEBASTIAN
Stingray City is like something out of a tropical fever dream. The steward comes to the front to explain how to feed and interact with stingrays. Brilliant crystalline water surrounds us, glowing over a stretch of white sandy shallows that rest in the middle of a calm area protected by reefs on three sides. We can see straight down to the bottom, where, as promised, a fleet of gigantic gray stingrays fly over the sand with their mysterious wavelike motion.
The steward tells us how this place first became a stingray hotspot because fishermen from Grand Cayman used to gut their catch here in the calm water and throw the scraps overboard. Stingrays grew to expect a free meal, and today about ninety of them make the area their home, with dozens showing up for feeding every day - now by tourists, rather than locals.
We anchor next to a line of other vessels. The crew hands out snorkel gear and containers of squid to feed to the rays. Anna takes a snorkel along with everyone else.
“Are you sure about getting in?” I say. I hate Anna taking another risk on my watch. The steward just told us stingrays grow to have wingspans up to six feet across and weigh over two-hundred pounds. They also told us their long tails are sharp and spikey, containing venom that won’t kill you, but will hurt like hell if you get stung.
“I’ll be fine,” she says. “I promise not to do anything stupid.”
“You’d better stay with us the whole time, babes,” Jamie says.
As we make our way into the water, the rays are already circling us. They’re huge, fast, and powerful. As soon as I’m submerged, a ray whips past me, its silky soft wing flowing over my arm and shoulder. It’s otherworldly.
Anna squeals beside me as the ray circles her too. Her face lights with that brilliant smile of hers, and I’m so glad she’s having a good time that it’s like something was missing in my heart and I didn’t even know it till now.
We work our way further from the boat. We’re in about four feet of water here, and the rays are excited to see us- and our snacks. They twist and turn around us so that it’s hard to stay upright. I pull a squid out of my feed container and hold it flat in my hand like the boat crew showed us. A stingray rushes me, and the vacuum of its mouth hoovers over my hand for the rarest of seconds as it blows past me, leaving that velvet slime feeling across my skin again.
