What Is “Just Right”?
When cruising on a big ship in the Caribbean Sea in the middle of a pandemic, it all comes down to getting a table for dinner by yourself.
I know! This doesn’t sound very social or all that nice, but for my husband and me, it’s kind of the truth.
I’m not sure how it happened, but cruising is kind of our “thing.” Tom and I started taking cruises when our kids were really small. We’d all share bunkbeds in a cabin with no window, and the four of us would spend a week doing things together. We’d play Bingo and look for shells on beaches. We’d eat fancy meals and sit at the pool. Stories from those vacations fill our dinner conversations, even now when our children are both married and we see them far less often than we would like.
Back when we started taking those trips, it was commonplace to share a big table in the dining room with another family of four. We even looked forward to it—the kids liked meeting other kids, and Tom and I enjoyed getting to know other parents. Eventually, however, I just wanted a table of our own. Our kids were busy teenagers. My husband was constantly on a plane. I wrote and wrote and wrote. I needed that one week to reconnect with everyone and didn’t want to share my little family with other people all that much.
Now that my husband and I are older, our travel expectations have become even more defined. I just want to relax, and sometimes that bit of relaxing means not having to sit with strangers for two hours in a ship’s dining room.
I’m pretty embarrassed to admit this side of me. I’m a fairly friendly person by nature. I volunteer at church. I smile at strangers. I talk to salespeople about their days. I chat with folks in the grocery store line.
Anyway, last week, when Tom and I were making arrangements with a lady on the first day of our cruise, we shook our head no every time she suggested we join another table for dinner. That wasn’t who we were any longer.
I suppose that’s when God decided we needed to sit at our own table for two—right next to Brownlee and Carl. Somehow, whether it was the fact that the four of us were seated at almost the same time, or the fact that I’d been writing for hours and was ready to talk to someone “real”, or just because the other couple was just so elegant looking, we started visiting with them.
To our surprise, even though Brownlee and Carl were thirty years older than us, Brownlee and Tom discovered they had mutual friends in common. I learned that Carl was from West Virginia, one of my favorite states. I wanted to hear all about their trip around Cape Horn as much as they were delighted someone wanted to hear about it. Before we knew it, we’d chatted with this other couple for an hour.
It was lovely. It felt special, too. Because at the end of our meal (we finished first), Tom and I stood up, shared how nice it was to meet them, and went on our way. We didn’t trade phone numbers or make plans to see each other again. As a matter of fact, we didn’t see a hint of either Carl or Brownlee for the rest of the trip. All we have is the memory of their kindness and friendly banter in the middle of our quest to be alone.
Now that we’re back in Ohio, it’s cold outside, and our suitcases are unpacked, I still keep thinking about Brownlee and Carl. I even heard my husband tell one of his sisters about them last night. They made quite an impression on us, and I’m not even completely sure why.
Maybe it’s just because the four of us clicked.
Maybe it’s because God thought we needed a little nudge. Or we needed a little reminder that even in the middle of a pandemic, we all need to remember we’re not alone.
I kind of hope, however, that the Lord was simply illustrating that having everything “just right” often does include surprises. After all, one never does talk about the Thanksgiving where the meal was perfect and everyone behaved. Nope, it’s the burnt-pie-sick-dog-grumpy-uncle-Thanksgivings that make the best stories.
The best things that are unexpected, unplanned, and—maybe just a little bit—unwanted. Thank goodness we don’t always get exactly what we want. I’m grateful for that.
is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of numerous romantic fiction series and mystery novels, including the Seasons of Sugarcreek series, the Sisters of the Heart series, the Families of Honor series, and others. She is the recipient of the RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Award. She has written more than eighty novels, translated into multiple languages. You can find more information at shelleyshepardgray.com.
Photograph © Boris Dunand, used with permission
