Do Not Become Alarmed(11)

“Dogs feel shame,” Gunther said. “You see it in the body, when someone puts a hat on them, or a sweater. The hanging of the head. And dolphin brains are much bigger.”

“But aren’t we anthropomorphizing?” Benjamin persisted. “We don’t actually know what they’re thinking.”

“I know what my dog is thinking,” Gunther said.

“But you never know what I am thinking,” Camila said, one eyebrow arched, and Liv thought again what good work she’d had done on her face.

Gunther turned to the men. “Listen to me,” he said. “I have an English friend in this city. He invites me to the golf club tomorrow. Do you golf?”

Raymond turned to Nora, his face alight.

Nora leaned back in her chair. “I’ve just lost my husband.”

Gunther clapped his hands together. “Excellent,” he said. “This is gracious living. Benjamin?”

“Sure,” he said. “If there’s room for me.”

“Of course!”

“So I guess we’re on our own for the zip line,” Liv said.

“A hen party,” Gunther said, grinning. “I’m sure you girls will have a very pleasant time on your potato-sack trip.” He turned to signal Yuri for more wine. Yuri poured, but didn’t stay to talk.

In bed that night, after the children were asleep, Liv said, “You don’t even like golf.”

“Not enough to pay for a membership,” Benjamin said. “But I like a ritualized stroll on a vast lawn.”

“Maybe he’s lying about his grandfather’s grandfather, and he’s descended from Nazis in hiding.”

“Then they would’ve named him Antonio,” Benjamin said.

“Or O’Hara.”

“It could be interesting,” he said. “Maybe I’ll learn something about the country.”

“You didn’t even want to go ashore,” she said. She knew she should let it go.

“Should I beg off?”

“No,” she said. “Just don’t come crying to me when you don’t see any coatimundis at the golf course.”

He smiled in the dark. “I promise.”

“Yuri doesn’t like Gunther.”

“Operation Barbarossa,” he said. “Old wounds.”

In the morning she checked her work email on the annoyingly slow connection, then packed sunblock, hand sanitizer, bug repellent, water bottles. At the last minute she threw in the new Christmas swimsuits, just in case. They all ventured forth, blinking in the sunlight, from the cocoon of the giant ship. Gunther’s friend pulled into the taxi area, in a boxy black military-looking Mercedes SUV. The husbands piled in and were off.

Marcus and Sebastian wandered away to look at the giant bollards the ship was tied to. Junie held Nora’s hand. Penny, not fully awake, leaned against Liv. It was already too hot for clinging kids. Liv wasn’t sure where to go.

“It’s so early,” Penny said. “Can’t we just stay on the ship?”

A woman with a clipboard directed them to a smiling young man. He was slight, in his twenties, with a handsome, friendly face.

“I am Pedro,” he said. “Welcome to my country. I will be your guide.”

He gave Nora an extra-welcoming smile, which made Liv look at her cousin. Nora was wearing white shorts, a bright blue tank top, and aviator sunglasses, and she looked trim and sporty and young. Pedro led them all to a van with a toucan painted on the side. He offered his hand to Nora to help her in, and Nora gave him a funny look, then took it.

He offered the same help to Liv. “No thanks,” she said.

Camila had signed up at the last minute, and boarded with her kids: Hector in madras shorts and a polo shirt, Isabel in a sundress with her hair loose. The teenagers looked like they’d come from a photo shoot, attractive and long-limbed, with sun-streaked hair and clear, tan skin. Liv wanted to ask Camila if they had some fancy European or Argentine acne product that could help Penny through the awkward years. The children clustered at the back of the van.

“Seatbelts!” Liv called.

“So, you work for a local company that contracts with the ship?” Nora asked Pedro, when they were under way, on a winding road.

“Exacto,” Pedro said.

“Do you think we’ll see monkeys?”

“So many monkeys!”

“Do they ever attack people?”

“No! They are very shy.”

“You hear those stories about chimps,” Nora said.

“Chimps live in Africa,” Pedro said. “These are howler monkeys. Maybe a few capuchinos, if we’re lucky.”

“Cappuccino like the coffee?” Nora asked.

“Like the monk. They wear a little cap.” He clasped his hands over his own head to demonstrate.

“Oh, of course,” Nora said. “Capuchins.”

Nora’s cheeks had gone pink, and Liv looked again at Pedro. Was he that appealing? The idea of a twenty-five-year-old just made her kind of tired.

Just then there was a sharp blast, and the van jerked sideways. There were small screams from the back, and Liv looked to see her children’s eyes wide on hers, seeking reassurance. The van hobbled down the road, tilting to the left.