I went on the cruise my late husband and I had spent more than 30 years saving for—but on Day Five, the captain suddenly announced my name

“Look underneath.”

My heart began pounding.

Table Seven was where Frank and I had planned to celebrate our 40th wedding anniversary.

“What instructions?”

I lifted the white cloth and reached beneath it.

My fingers touched a large box wrapped in red paper.

When I dragged it into my lap, I saw my name written across the top.

It was Frank’s handwriting.

“How did you do this?” I whispered.

It was Frank’s handwriting.

***

Five days earlier, I stood over an open suitcase while my daughter, Mikayla, folded sweaters beside me.

Daniel, my son, blocked the bedroom doorway.

“You don’t have to prove anything by taking this cruise.”

I tucked Frank’s navy shirt beneath my dresses.

“I’m not proving anything.”

“You’ve barely left the house since Dad died.”

“You don’t have to prove anything.”

“I bought groceries yesterday.”

“You bought milk and came straight home.”

“I still left the house.”

Mikayla smiled, but Daniel didn’t.

“You shouldn’t cross an ocean alone.”

“I won’t be alone. The ship holds thousands of people.”

Mikayla smiled, but Daniel didn’t.