Alight

“After the mother lays the egg, the father balances it on top of his feet for a full two months, using a pouch on his lower belly to keep it warm. They can’t even leave the egg to eat. In the meantime, the mother goes off to hunt for fish, sometimes traveling up to 50 miles away.”

The Emperor penguin tidbit was always a crowd pleaser. Whenever Jamie shared the story, the older women in the tour group would smile slyly and exchange glances, sometimes whispering to each other “sounds nice” or “lucky her.” At least one of the men would remind everyone, yet again, that he was already aware of this fact from his many hours watching Planet Earth. One thing she’d quickly learned leading tours was that everyone seemed convinced that their witty commentary was unique, when in fact she’d heard the same jokes trip after trip, year after year.

“The dads all huddle together to keep each other company and stay warm,” she continued. “They also take care of the chicks right after they hatch, and regurgitate ‘milk’ to keep them nourished.” The smirking women raised their eyebrows.

It was her third and final cruise of the season, and her fifth year making the long journey from Idaho to Chile to Antarctica. When she first took the resident ornithologist job, Jamie had had to train herself to get adequate sleep amidst the nearly 24 hours of daily sunlight. By year two, she had it down to a science. She decked out her cabin with blackout curtains and a sound machine, and habitually downed 5mg of melatonin before bed.

This particular cruise would last 10 days, overlapping almost exactly with the university’s early spring break. Since departing from Santiago, they’d crossed the Drake Passage, where Jamie pointed out the wandering albatrosses, so named because they could fly up to 75,000 miles per year. They’d passed through the Antarctic Sound, home to the brown skua, a bird known for developing bonds with humans who stayed in the area long-term. After Paradise Bay, they would sightsee at the breathtaking cliffs of the Neumayer Channel before beginning the long journey northward.

After wrapping up her penguin spiel, Jamie stepped aside as the guests all took their pictures. Seeing the baby chicks was always one of the cruise’s biggest highlights, though by March their cutest days were already behind them, as they’d grown considerably larger than when they hatched a month or two earlier. Even after years of visiting the penguin colonies Jamie found it striking just how rapidly the babies became almost indistinguishable from the adults.

***

Nine thousand miles away, David was in the throes of getting a three-year-old and a first grader out the door for school.

“Dad, I can’t find my backpack!” Aurora called from upstairs. It was remarkable how frequently her bag moved itself to some unknowable location between 4pm the previous afternoon and the following morning.

“Did you look in the closet?” he called back, simultaneously packing up a little Bento box-style lunch for Lillian, who’d recently begun refusing to eat two different foods that had touched each other. Since she’d started preschool part-time in the fall–her first time with caregivers other than her parents–her preferences and opinions seemed to have sharpened dramatically. But maybe that was just the age. David sighed softly as he noticed Lillian had removed her shoes and socks for the third time that morning, especially since she would insist on putting them back on–slowly and painstakingly–by herself.

“Found it!” Aurora bounded down the stairs, her backpack in hand and dark curls bouncing. Lillian was still focused intently on her velcro, but David was relieved to see she’d made relatively quick work of the first shoe. At last, 10 minutes before the 9am bell at Cooke Elementary, everyone was strapped in in the car, and another day began.

David and Jamie had met at City of Rocks National Reserve, where Jamie was collecting data on the avian population as part of her summer gig as a field technician. David had been commissioned to paint a mural at one of the visitor centers, a sweeping landscape showcasing the park’s distinctive granite spires against a bright blue sky. One Saturday, Jamie had led a workshop in the center’s atrium about how to create and install nesting boxes for barn owls, which were native to all of Idaho but had become increasingly scarce as its cities developed, leading them to be designated a species of concern by conservation groups. David had overheard the presentation as he painted and was struck by Jamie’s charisma and enthusiasm. She made an impassioned plea on the barn owl’s behalf, touting their benefits to farmers as natural pest control and appealing to the romantics in the group by describing how they formed life-long, monogamous partnerships.

It wasn’t the last time Jamie would charm him with her bird facts. Seemingly anything could trigger an association for her. After a Jimmy Buffet song came on the radio when she and David were driving to McCall to go kayaking, she recounted with obvious delight how flamingos actually lost their characteristic pink color after becoming parents, as they were so depleted from regurgitating food for their babies that they no longer got adequate nutrition for themselves. When David mentioned to her that an old high school friend was moving down to Brazil, she regaled him with the salacious tale of the greater rhea, a species native to South America in which the females laid eggs in multiple nests tended by the males after breeding with a variety of partners, leading the fathers-to-be to care for around 25 eggs from 7 different mothers at once.

That fall Jamie started her first academic job as a biology professor at Boise State. David’s work as a freelancer was flexible, so they decided to move up together. On weekends they went rock climbing and “floated the river,” lazing down the water on rented inner tubes. When it got cold they drove into the mountains and tried out cross-country skiing, which turned out to involve more falling than one would expect.

Two years to the day after they’d met, David proposed to Jamie while they were on a hike. By that point they’d settled in their new home, she getting comfortable with the rhythms of teaching and he working to get his graphic design and illustration business off the ground. They’d rented a modest two-bedroom and dutifully began paying down student loans, using whatever savings they could set aside to take short trips around the state. Their lifestyle was simple but they were happy.

Yet soon after Jamie discovered she was pregnant, less than a year after their wedding, they realized that one associate professor salary and the inconsistent paychecks of a freelance artist would not be enough to support a family. When Jamie came across the open position at Onward Expeditions, which sought someone with a “passion for bird life and a love for people”--and which would pay her the equivalent of nearly half her academic salary for a few weeks’ work she could largely schedule during her breaks–it seemed like a dream come true. And for awhile, it was.

***

By late afternoon, most of the guests on the Andromeda could be found either settling in for dinner at one of the ship’s two restaurants or relaxing on the observation deck. Jamie was expected to mingle with the latter for at least an hour after the formal part of the tours had concluded, making herself available for questions and conversation. She didn’t mind; from her early days at City of Rocks she’d welcomed interacting with the public, and unlike her introverted husband, she didn’t shudder at the thought of small talk. Besides, the cruise guests were by and large retirees who’d lived long and often compelling lives. Their tired jokes aside, Jamie usually found their stories and insights genuinely interesting.

“I thought that bit about the penguin dads was fascinating,” said an older woman as she approached, touching Jamie’s elbow gently with a hand heavily laden with gold jewelry. Jamie recognized her as one of the guests who’d tittered at that particular piece of trivia, so she was unsurprised to hear it had made an impression.

“I’m Angela,” the woman said. “I’m here with my husband Charles, he’s the one who’s always looking things up in his guidebook while you’re talking.” She rolled her eyes good-naturedly, and Jamie reciprocated with a chuckle.

“It’s great to meet you, Angela,” she said. “How are you enjoying the cruise so far?”

Angela widened her pale blue eyes and touched Jamie’s elbow again. Her laugh lines were prominent and Jamie could easily see what an attractive, joyful looking woman she must have been when she was younger.

“It’s been wonderful,” she said emphatically. “I’m just learning so much and all the views have just been stunning. This place is truly otherworldly. And the birds! I’d never thought much about birds before coming on this trip to be honest with you, but you just speak about every species with so much passion it’s like I can’t not care.”

Jamie blushed. She knew that she was good at her job and that it was an incredibly natural fit for her personality and interests, but she also worked hard to be engaging. She’d refined her anecdotes and her delivery over the years, tweaking her approach as she learned what resonated with guests and what didn’t.

“Well that’s terrific to hear, I’m so glad it’s living up to your expectations.”

“And I tell you,” Angela went on, as if Jamie hadn’t said anything. “It makes you think, doesn’t it? How all these birds, all these animals live. How they all have their distinct little patterns and relationships. I mean, could you imagine what it would be like for us if men were in charge of the newborns? I wouldn’t have had to quit my job. I was working at an art gallery in my twenties and I loved it, but after I became a mother that was it.” She made a dusting motion with her hands.

“Maybe these penguins are on to something, eh?”

She smiled at Jamie conspiratorially, the same look Jamie recognized from when she’d told the penguin story that afternoon.

“It is fascinating,” she responded, returning Angela’s smile. “There’s really an incredible amount of diversity when it comes to how animals split the duties involved in raising their young, and birds in particular. So much we assume is ‘natural’ isn’t really universal.”

Angela nodded, pleased to have her observations affirmed as worthy and important. It was a feeling she craved and didn’t get enough of.

“Do you ever think about having children? I guess it must be hard to picture with the nature of your work.”

“Oh, I do, actually,” Jamie responded brightly. “Have children, I mean. A three-year-old and a six-year-old. Both girls. They’ve got endless energy but they’re such a source of joy.”

“Oh!” Angela exclaimed, a mildly puzzled look briefly passing over her face. “I’m sorry, I just assumed. Are they…are they here?” Angela looked around with concern, as if a toddler and a first grader could conceivably just be sprawled inconspicuously on one of the lounge chairs.

“Oh no,” Jamie laughed, “They’re back at home with their dad. He’s been a stay-at-home dad since my oldest was born, so he knows what he’s doing. They’re in good hands!” She laughed again, but could tell it sounded a bit forced the second time. People person or not, she always felt a little awkward when guests inquired about her personal life.

“Well how lovely,” Angela replied. The initial confusion had left her face but Jamie could feel that she was now the slightest bit more guarded, a tightness maintained in her brow.

It was a look Jamie had seen before. When she’d corrected the receptionist at the doctor’s office, for example, who’d assumed she was on David’s insurance and not the other way around. Or when she told David’s own mother that they were expecting a second baby–a second daughter, specifically–and that yes, David would be staying home with her the first two years just as he had with Aurora. Once you became attuned to other people’s judgment it was almost impossible not to discern.

And she knew David had seen it too. He’d told her about the surprised expression on the superintendent’s face whenever David opened the door for some kind of repair work with a baby strapped to his chest. His frosty reception from all the moms at the playground was similar. Jamie had come across a study once about how men who took their children to the playground on a Sunday were viewed as strong and competent, whereas those observed in the same circumstances on a Thursday were perceived as ineffectual and untrustworthy. She’d never told David about it, fearing he would take it to heart.

Her sensitivity wasn’t unfounded. She and David would laugh about other people’s reactions to their mildly unconventional family, mocking how such antiquated notions about parenthood could persist in the 21st century. But Jamie had noticed that recently David’s laugh sometimes sounded strained, and that his eye contact could waver. In the face of endless to-do lists, she’d pushed these observations to the side, but nevertheless held her tongue when it came to saying anything that could amplify his potential misgivings.

“My daughter is the same,” Angela continued, recovering and picking up steam. “She’s a lawyer, very ambitious. Her husband works but they both have full-time jobs. The childcare bills are insane! But that’s the way it is for your generation. I feel for you young moms. So much is expected of you now. It’s so much more complicated.”

***

It was nearing midnight when Jamie’s phone rang. Before each cruise she called her provider to switch on international calling and the ships, remarkably, had pretty consistent service, but she and David had agreed to only call in emergencies to avoid unnecessary charges. She’d only just fallen asleep and was in the midst of one of those first shifting-out-of-consciousness dreams, Angela herself making an appearance inexplicably dressed in a wedding dress out on the ship’s sun deck.

“Hello?” she mumbled, disoriented as her eyes failed to adjust to the pitch black of her surroundings.

“Aurora had an accident,” David said, dispensing with the niceties. His voice was thin and matter of fact.

“She’s ok. But she broke her arm. We’re at the hospital now. Lillian is staying for after-hours at preschool but I should be able to pick her up on our way home.”

“Oh my god,” Jamie gasped, sitting straight up and knocking her water bottle to the floor as she fumbled for the light switch. “What happened? Can I talk to her?”

“She’s getting her cast on right now. She fell from the monkey bars during recess and her wrist immediately swelled up and turned black and blue. She’s been a trouper, I got to the school not 15 minutes after it happened and she had stopped crying. But she’s scared and in pain.”

Jamie winced and took a deep breath. She wouldn’t be home for another three days. In some ways she was relieved it was just a broken bone. She herself had broken both arms and three fingers before middle school, and she knew Aurora would heal quickly. But the guilt struck her like a blow, and she struggled to find the right words to say as she gauged the edge in David’s voice. He beat her to the punch.

“You should be here.”

Jamie’s defenses went into high gear, even as she’d been having the exact same thought.

“This isn’t my fault, David. I’m so sorry this happened and I’m so grateful to you for handling it, but it would have happened whether I was there or not.”

“I’m not saying it’s your fault. You always think I’m blaming you. I’m just saying she needs her mother. She needs you and you’re not here.”

“Well, I wish I could be there. This isn’t easy on me either, you know. I’m always worried something will happen while I’m away.”

“Yeah, well. I guess going on a luxury cruise three times a year and getting to sleep through the night for a week at a time doesn’t strike me as such a terrible hardship.”

The bitterness in his voice took Jamie aback.

“Where is this coming from? None of this is new, David. And it’s made a lot possible for us, which was the whole point. Lillian’s going to that fancy preschool now. We’re finally saving a teeny bit for retirement. We might even be able to take a family vacation next year.”

“But what’s the point if you’re not here when it matters? Can’t you see the toll this is taking?”

Jamie felt her heartbeat accelerate. Since the children were born their arguments had become increasingly frequent, but he rarely sounded as quietly seething as he did now. It started to dawn on her that choosing to ignore all his subtle looks of dissatisfaction, his tendency to become quiet and withdrawn before she left for each cruise had been a mistake. This has been building for much longer than she had been willing to acknowledge.

“Do you think I’m a bad mother?”

It was a bad habit they still hadn’t broken after nearly 10 years of marriage: goading each other during fights, tempting the other to cross a line and say something they would surely regret. David paused.

“I think you’re a working mother.”

“What does that mean?”

“You give work your best and we get whatever’s left. It’s always been like this. And not just when you’re on your cruises. You pour yourself into your students and your advocacy but at the end of the day you’re depleted. And the girls and I just have to take what we can get.”

“Well what choice do I have?” Jamie spoke quietly, aware of the thin walls between the cabins, but her voice was sharp. “Do I need to remind you that we rely on my jobs? That that’s how we pay the rent and put food on the table? It’s not like you’ve been eager to assume the breadwinner role. Do you have any idea how much pressure it is to support our family all on my own?”

“No, I don’t. I’ve been too busy potty training our daughter and doing endless loads of laundry and getting up in the middle of the night every time Lillian has a bad dream. Do you think this is what I envisioned for my life? I’ve set aside everything. Everything. I’m lucky if I get one commission each year, and I’m so drained I’ve lost all inspiration to create just for the sake of it. I barely even recognize myself anymore.”

They each sat quiet for a moment, the vast distance between them suddenly feeling impassable.

“I need to go. They’re almost done with her cast. I’ll call you later.”

“Ok,” Jamie said meekly, already regretting some of her words. ”I love you.” But David had already hung up.

***

Jamie got home around midday on a Saturday, meaning that she immediately resumed full-time mom duties, jet lag be damned, and she and David had no meaningful chance to talk until evening. Aurora, thankfully, seemed to be fully past the trauma of her fall and was delighting in her pink cast, proudly displaying the sprawled signatures from all her first grade classmates. Lillian had insisted on signing too, and an oversized approximation of an “L” featured prominently on her sister’s wrist. The only other indication that something had been amiss was Aurora’s clinginess. She often gave her mom a bit of a cold shoulder when she returned from her trips, but this time she withheld no affection and rarely strayed from Jamie’s side since the moment she’d walked in the front door.

After both girls were finally asleep for the night, Jamie and David convened on the couch, sharing a blanket and turning on the apartment’s little electric fireplace for ambiance. They sat in silence for five excruciatingly long minutes, both worn down by the day and neither eager to embark on the conversation that lay in wait. Finally David spoke.

“Listen, I’m sorry I hung up on you like that. It had been a really stressful day and the hospital was chaotic.”

Jamie was relieved to hear his conciliatory tone. Their marriage had survived that far only because the intensity of their arguments was generally matched by an eagerness on both sides to forgive and move on.

“You don’t have to apologize. I can only imagine. I’m sorry I got so defensive.”

“I get it, you were right, it wasn’t your fault that it happened. But clearly this arrangement is starting to wear on me.”

Jamie nodded, looking down at her hands, which inevitably cracked and bled from the Antarctic air no matter how much lotion she applied.

“I just feel like we’ve been letting the wind carry us these past few years. The choices we made when Aurora was born, what was already in motion before she turned one, that’s kept us afloat. But personally I’m treading water.”

“I hear that. I’ve just been focused on doing what needs to be done. Meeting obligations. To the kids, to work, to you. I feel like I'm on autopilot half the time. But I know I haven’t been the best about checking in. I don’t know, motherhood put me into survival mode, I guess, and I never left.”

“Yeah, it’s changed everything.”

Jamie looked up and they exchanged a glance, brows furrowed. But as she caught David's eye Jamie felt herself unwittingly begin to smile. She was a bit punchy from the sleep deprivation, yes, but it was more than that. It's changed everything, such a casual confirmation of a fact that fundamentally governed their lives. Jamie started to laugh, despite herself--a quiet giggle that quickly escalated to full-bodied guffaws that could not be contained. David started laughing soon after, tears coming to his eyes as he recognized the weight of what he'd just said and let go of some of the tension of the past week. They half heartedly shushed each other, wary of waking the girls, but it was of little use. It felt like coming up for air after six years, an overdue acknowledgment of just how immensely their world had been rocked. Nothing was the same and it never again would be.

“In all seriousness though," David went on, composing himself. "It’s not like I don’t want you to have a career. And doing the stay-at-home dad thing has been the joy of my life, unexpectedly. I don’t care what anyone else has to say about it. But pretty soon the girls won’t need me the same way. And I want them to see me doing something in this world too.”

Just then, Jamie heard the characteristic shriek of a barn owl in the distance. With the head ranger’s blessing, she had installed a nesting box in the small park behind their building shortly after they’d moved in. To her great satisfaction, some seven years later an owl pair had finally taken up residence. The male had been especially active for the past few weeks, while the female remained scarce. Jamie smiled, looking forward to seeing their chicks emerging in a few weeks.

“We can figure it out.”