"Happy Birthday to you!" The other passengers applauded politely as the cruise staff finished their song and dance. Then, with the obligatory performance out of the way, they adorned Sarah's head with a gaudy birthday hat and presented her with a single slice of strawberry cake, the number 35 etched into the dessert with pink frosting.

"Darling," Sarah breathed, her eyes wet with appreciation as the employees filtered away and left the couple alone. "First, a surprise cruise, and now a cake; you didn't need to do all this for me."

"For a woman of your caliber," replied Asher, taking her hand in his and donning the mask of a loving romantic, "I hardly think it's enough." That did it; Sarah began to cry, wrapping her husband in a spine-shattering hug. "I love you so much," she said, her voice raw with emotion. What did I ever do to deserve you?"

Asher and Sarah were on day three of their romantic getaway cruise. They were mid-meal at one of the ship's several fancy eateries. Despite his company's downsizing, Asher had been reaping the financial benefits of several astute investments and was hardly hurting for cash. With his wife's birthday coming up, it had been the perfect excuse to blow through some of that extra spending money. The trip accomplished three primary objectives: one, Asher liked cruises; two, it made the missus happy; and perhaps most importantly of all, three, there were plenty of attractive women onboard walking around in nothing but swimsuits.

"So how shall we spend the rest of our afternoon," continued Asher, staring out across the cruise ship as hundreds of people ate, swam, and played. "A rousing game of shuffleboard, perhaps a visit to the ship's library, or if you're tired from all this excitement, I can order us a bottle of wine, and we can watch a movie in our first-class suite?"

Sarah pursed her lips in thought. "Well, I am kind of tired," she admitted, wielding a fork and eagerly digging into her cake. "Perhaps a quiet night in with a movie like you suggested." Sarah blinked as if suddenly remembering something important. "Though, perhaps we can skip the wine."

"Oh?" replied Asher teasingly as he stared through the restaurant window and watched a pair of women in very revealing swimsuits climb out of the ship's pool. "With all this talk of yours about starting a family, I was sure you'd want at least two bottles of wine." Asher chuckled at his joke, not at all worried about his wife's advances. If Sarah tried to start anything, he'd devise several new excuses for why they'd have to wait on the whole family-making business. Asher had already mentioned offhandedly this morning that he was feeling a bit seasick, and he could also claim to have gotten food poisoning from all those clams they ate for lunch.

"Well, about that," continued Sarah, reaching over to a nearby table and grabbing a ketchup bottle. "Maybe we don't have to worry about trying for a kid anymore."

Asher suddenly felt ten pounds lighter and five years younger. "That's wonderful news, honey," he breathed in relief. Maybe Sarah had finally put all of this silly kid business behind her. He'd been having nightmares recently about all the stretch marks she would've gotten. "What made you change your mind?"

"Oh, you know," replied Sarah with a girlish giggle, slathering ketchup all over her cake, "Wine's not good for you when you're expecting. Also, can you go to the buffet line and grab me some sauerkraut? That would go great with the ketchup."

"Sauerkraut, sure." Replied Asher, standing up and stretching as he strolled lazily over to the buffet line. Asher didn't care about the reason; as long as Sarah wouldn't badger him anymore about having kids, it would be smooth sailing– "Wait a moment." Asher stared back at his wife; she looked so happy that she was practically glowing. "What did you mean by expecting?" He called out, heading back towards her and sitting at their table.

Sarah looked around the room as if to see if anyone was watching. "I wanted to wait to tell you," she whispered, her face alight. "I checked before we left for the cruise, Ashy. I'm pregnant!"

Asher's eye began to twitch; he tasted blood in his mouth. The room started to rock, and it had nothing to do with the fact that they were on a ship. "B-but I thought," he stammered, "We never–" Sarah was pregnant? How?! Asher had been so careful all these years; what had he done wrong?

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"Remember that bottle of apple juice we lost for a few months?" Sarah asked, taking Asher's hand and giving it a hard squeeze. Asher nodded. He remembered cleaning the house and finding a half-empty container of juice under the couch cushions, but he still had no idea how it'd gotten there.

"Apparently," continued Sarah, "apple juice starts to ferment after being left out for a couple of weeks, so when we drank the rest of the bottle in one sitting and went to bed that night–." Sarah shrugged, face still aglow, "I guess this'll be our oopsie baby, huh?"

"I just can't believe it," Asher replied, for once in his life, not knowing what else to say. He swore at that moment he would never drink alcohol again. "How far along is the b-baby?" Even saying that word was a challenge

Sarah squeezed his hand again. "Only a couple of weeks, so we've got months to prepare everything for our little guy." Sarah took a huge bite of her cake, the scent of frosting and ketchup making Asher feel even more nauseated.

"Will you excuse me for one moment?" Asher gave Sarah his best smile, though he was sure it looked closer to a grimace. He picked himself up from his seat and stumbled away. Not sure where he was going, just knowing that he needed to be somewhere else right now.

"You're going to be the best daddy in the whole world!" Sarah called out as Asher practically fled the room.

XXX

Asher lit a cigar and took a long, slow drag, exhaling and watching as the smoke drifted out of view, unbound and free to do whatever it wished. Asher found the practice of smoking disgusting but allowed himself to engage in the vice when he felt the situation was severe enough. The first time he'd picked up a cigar was when he was thirteen, and his parents had divorced; the second was at nineteen when his sweet Grandma Ethel had gone to heaven; and the third was when he was thirty-three, and his wife had told him that she was pregnant.

"Well, this is hardly ideal," muttered Asher, leaning against the ship's railing and staring at the choppy waves beneath him. Although Asher couldn't put into words what he was feeling, he knew in his heart that it was the official end of an era. He'd tried so hard to hold onto his youth, to the joys of the past and the freedom it allowed him, but now that he was going to be a father, he suddenly felt tired and old. "Pops." spat Asher; that's what people were going to call him, Old man Ash, a relic from the past, a decrepit old codger. He suddenly regretted all the things he had never been able to do and wouldn't be able to do now that he was ensnared by fatherhood.

His mood lifted momentarily as he watched two twenty-something women stroll by, chatting amicably. One of them spotted Asher and waved shyly at him. Asher grinned, about to wave back, but stopped himself. He was a dad now, flirting with other women; well, it just felt wrong. Gosh, he was going to miss flirting with other women.

Asher's mind drifted back to his conversation with Pete from a few weeks prior regarding their high school reunion. He couldn't recall specifics, but he was pretty sure the reunion was this week, maybe even going on right now while Asher was having a midlife crisis. He smiled as he remembered all the girls who used to flock around him, all the beautiful smiles, the intoxicating smells, and the thrill of the hunt, finding a woman and making her your own.

Believe it or not, Asher had remained faithful to Sarah during all their years dating and married, but there was always that wild stallion inside of Asher that he'd never been able to tame: the desire to flirt and be flirted with by as many women as possible. Asher had indulged in this vice sparingly, never going further than a hello or a brief conversation, maybe an errant touch or lingering stare, but fatherhood forced a man to shape up and straighten out; there would be no more opportunities for improper conduct, not if he didn't want his child to turn into a lecherous playboy. No, sir, Asher Jr. was going to be a proper man. He'd probably have to start going to church again, too.

Asher sucked in another lungful of cigar smoke, hacking and wheezing as his lungs felt like they were burning. He knew grown men should be able to handle their cigars with more dignity, but in his defense, he hadn't smoked in almost 15 years. Goodbye fun, goodbye freedom, goodbye women; it was time to be a dad and do dumb parent stuff like pick out wallpaper for the baby's room. Asher wanted a green jungle finish but already knew Sarah had eyes on a carnival theme.

"Incoming!" Someone yelled in alarm.

Asher looked up, but his brooding made him slow to react. The ship lurched and listed to the side as something of significant size smacked into it, causing hundreds of people aboard the vessel to stumble and fall to their hands and knees. Asher, who had already been leaning precariously close to the edge of the ship, felt his feet leave the deck, and a moment later, he was flung off the side of the boat. "Did we hit an iceberg?" Thought Asher, his brain numb from the shock as the frothing ocean waves rushed to meet him. No, that can't be it, he realized as he smashed into the water and was submerged in inky blackness. We're in the Bahamas.