Book 2: Chapter 6

 

Christmas Time: My Only Wish This Year

The first real snow of the season had slipped in overnight, the kind that didn’t shout but whispered—just enough to frost the edges of the world and make everything feel new again. Mark cranked the heater as he pulled into Wawa, rubbed his hands together, and spotted Allan through the window, leaning at the counter like he owned the place.

Inside, steam from coffee cups fogged the air. Mark grabbed the paper and his usual cup, paid, and joined Allan.

“Cold today, brother,” Mark said, lifting his cup in salute.

Allan clinked his back. “How was Thanksgiving?”

Mark smiled without even thinking. “The little man is everywhere. He goes from couch to chair to coffee table like he’s mapping the place out, keeps saying ‘Wuz at?’ like he’s asking the universe to explain itself. I know he doesn’t really understand yet, but we answer him anyway—and he gets this look like he’s filing it all away for later. He’s something else.” He chuckled. “How about you?”

“All good,” Allan said. “Jillian’s crawling now, but once she finds something, she’s locked in. Yesterday she played with a pot and its lid for over an hour. I think she’s already an engineer.”

They laughed, finished their coffee, and headed their separate ways, both carrying that quiet, satisfied exhaustion that only new parenthood could bring.

When Mark walked in, Kimmy already had the tree assembled, lights coiled at its base like a promise waiting to be kept. Brad was in his playpen, standing up with the confidence of someone who had recently discovered gravity and was still deciding what he thought about it.

He saw Mark and pointed. “Daddy! Daddy… dink dink, Momma?”

“Yes, buddy,” Mark said, holding up the coffee. “Daddy’s got Momma’s drink—and her puzzle.”

But Brad had already turned back to his toys, interest shifting as quickly as clouds.

Kimmy smiled. “Thanks, baby. I got the tree up. Proud of me?”

Mark studied it like a museum curator, head tilted, hands on hips. “Looks right to me.”

Kimmy pouted on cue. He laughed, leaned in, and kissed her. “Decorate after coffee?”

She opened her puzzle with a satisfied sigh. “And my puzzle. Brad should be ready for a bottle by the time we start.”

Soon they fell into their familiar rhythm—Kimmy directing like a cheerful conductor, Mark following instructions with exaggerated patience. The Alaska ornament went up first, then the Mickeys above it, exactly as tradition required. An hour later, they stood back, lights glowing, the room wrapped in that quiet, golden Christmas hush.

“Is Brad…?” Mark asked softly.

They turned. Brad was sound asleep in the playpen, one hand still curled around a toy.

Kimmy lifted him carefully. Mark whispered, “So much stimulation. He’s going to have the best Christmas.”

The next weekend, Christmas music filled the car as they headed to the mall. Brad “sang” along in his own language, Kimmy’s hand resting comfortably on Mark’s arm.

“So Allan and Sally are bringing Jillian, and we’ll meet at Santa’s for pictures, then lunch in the food court,” Kimmy said. “That’s what Sally and I agreed on. That’s good, right?”

Mark smiled as he parked. “You’re doing it again.”

Her eyes lit up. “Doing what? I haven’t the slightest idea…”

He wagged a finger. “Don’t even. First you get that look—yes, that one—then your eyes do that bright thing, and then you ask me something knowing there is absolutely no way I’ll ever say no to you.”

She covered her eyes, laughing. “Why, Mark Allan, I have no idea what you mean.”

Brad laughed too, and they both looked back at him.

“See?” Mark said. “Even your son is onto you.”

The six of them were next in line. They asked for family shots and a group photo. The elf happily obliged, both babies cooperated with miraculous timing, and Kimmy and Sally beamed at the proofs while Mark and Allan handed over their credit cards without even looking, exchanging those familiar, knowing smiles.

---

Gifts of Love

Mark woke up cold.

Not just a little cold—where-did-the-blanket-go cold.

He reached, found nothing, patted around in confusion, and cracked one eye open. Morning sunlight streamed through the blinds, and there was Kimmy, sitting cross-legged in the shirt, holding the stolen blanket in her lap, smiling like she’d just pulled off the heist of the century.

“What… what are you…?” he murmured.

“Oh, morning, baby,” she said innocently. “What woke you up?” She tucked the blanket behind her back.

Mark reached up and pulled her down onto him, laughing as he kissed her. “That’s just not fair. Freezing a man into consciousness.”

She propped herself on her elbows. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Did I steal the blanket?”

He started to answer, but she put a finger to his lips, suddenly serious. “Now listen to me, mister. Do you have any idea what time it is?”

He glanced toward the clock, but she turned his face back to hers. “You don’t need that. Answer me now or no kisses until tomorrow.”

He widened his eyes in mock fear. “Wait… I know this one… is it… could it be…?”

She sat up. “Right. PRESENT TIME!”

She was out of bed in a flash. “I’ve got the tree and the hot cocoa and I’ll get the bottle ready—you check on Brad!”

“Yes, dear,” Mark called, channeling his best 1950s sitcom husband.

Brad was at his activity table, alternating between pounding with a plastic hammer and attempting to fit shapes into their proper slots, then pausing to take a sip from his bottle like a very busy little executive.

Later, Kimmy sat between Mark’s legs, leaning back into him, two gifts in her lap. “You think maybe—just maybe—he likes that table?”

Mark smiled. “Just a little.”

“Okay,” she said. “Last presents. Who goes first?”

He tapped her head. “Nice try. You always go first.”

She tore into the paper. “I agree. Ooooh… Victoria’s Secret.” She held up a red silk negligee, then turned it slowly. “But wait…”

Mark’s stomach did a small, heroic flip.

“There seems to be quite a bit of see-through lace,” she said, “and it seems pretty short.”

He covered his mouth theatrically. “Well for heaven’s sake, I didn’t even notice.”

She laughed, kissed him. “I love it. And I’ll wear it tonight.”

“That,” Mark whispered, “is the best present I’ll get.”

“Stop. Open yours.”

He took his time, just to torture her. “Seriously, stop teasing.”

Brad paused his hammering. “Momma… momma… see?” Then went back to work.

Mark opened the box and pulled out a silk Egyptian-style shirt. “Oh, baby. This is perfect for our trip.”

“I know,” she said, and settled back into his arms.

The Christmas carols played softly, Brad hammered in rhythm, and the room filled with that rare, quiet kind of happiness—the kind you don’t need to talk about because you’re already living it.

Don’t Worry Baby

Kimmy was feeding Brad while enjoying the warm, pale December sunlight that slanted through the front windows. It made the dust motes look like tiny sparks in the air, and for a moment everything felt almost suspended—quiet, ordinary, safe. She smiled down at him and said softly, “Your Daddy will be home soon, it’s just a check-up and there’s nothing to worry about.”

Her voice tried to sound reassuring, but even to her it rang a little thin. I saw his numbers, she told herself. They were all good. No surprises… please… no surprises.

Her phone chimed, and her heart jumped before she even looked at it. Mark’s name lit the screen.

“See?” she said to Brad, forcing a brighter tone. “Probably coming home right now.”

But when she opened the text, her smile faltered.

Be a little longer… not to worry. Kisses….

Brad’s eyes were getting heavy, so Kimmy carried him back to his room, laid him down, and watched until he curled instinctively around his blanket. Then she drifted back through the house, straightening things that didn’t need straightening, wiping a counter that was already clean, glancing at the clock more times than she wanted to admit.

Where is he? she wondered, her chest tight in that familiar, unwelcome way.

When his car finally pulled up, she was already at the door.

Mark got out and gave a friendly wave—but she knew that smile. The I’m fine, really smile. The one he used when he didn’t want her to worry.

He came up the steps. “Hi, honey,” he said, pulling her into a hug and kissing her cheek.

He started to step inside, but she held onto him and looked up, her eyes searching his face.

Mark’s smile faded. He took her hands, steady and warm in his. “Okay… no secrets, we promised. Come on in. I’ll explain.”

I love her concern, he thought. I just hate being the reason for it.

Kimmy sat on the edge of the sofa while Mark hung up his jacket. He pulled some papers from his pocket and sat beside her. Her eyes were already shining with tears.

“Please,” she said softly. “Just start with you’re okay… please.”

Mark cupped her cheek and leaned in. “Yes, baby. I’m okay.”

Some of the tension drained from her shoulders, but not all of it. She swallowed and tried to be brave. “But… tell me. I want to know all of it. Whatever it is.”

Mark took a breath. “Okay. So… it sounds worse than what it is. I have skin cancer, behind—”

The word barely landed before Kimmy’s hands flew to her face and the tears came.

“No, baby, no—it’s not like that,” he said quickly, pulling her closer. “It’s from all the days of coaching in the sun. I’ll probably have more like this someday, but it’s completely treatable. They just have to—”

“No, honey…” she whispered, shaking her head.

“Really. It’s okay,” he said gently. “It’s a small local procedure. A couple of hours at the dermatologist’s office. It’s called MOHS. Here—” He handed her the paperwork.

She read, then looked up, worry written all over her face. “So… they cut you, test it, and they won’t let you leave until they have it all?”

Mark nodded. “Yeah. I’ll have a few stitches, but they’ll be gone in a week or so. You won’t even be able to tell—especially where it is.” He pointed behind his ear.

Kimmy wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. “I try… I really do… to be brave. I just—I can’t…”

Mark held her. “I’m good. Please. No worries. I scheduled it for after we get back from Egypt, okay?” He pulled back just enough to look at her. “Now… I want to know something happier. What are you wearing for our big anniversary night out? I want to coordinate.”

She wiped her eyes and managed a smile. “Okay… okay. I thought I’d wear the red one from our second anniversary. You remember—”

Mark’s face lit up. “Ohhh yes. The backless one. I love that one.”

Her smile came back for real this time.

“I got a text from Sandy earlier asking what time she should come. Around six?” Kimmy asked.

“That’s perfect,” Mark said.

---

Anniversary evening found Mark adjusting his crimson-and-silver striped tie in the mirror. He slipped on his gray jacket, turned slightly one way, then the other, and smiled to himself.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the bathroom door open.

“Ready?” Kimmy called softly.

Mark turned. “Yes,” he said, a little breathless. “Let me see my girl.”

She stepped out, and his heart actually skipped. For a second he just stood there, taking her in.

“I don’t think,” he said quietly, “that I will ever, ever get over wondering how I got so incredibly lucky… that you came into my life and chose me.”

Kimmy smiled, that familiar, almost shy smile. “So… you still like it?”

Mark took her hands, looked straight into her eyes, and said softly, “Still.”

And they both felt the full weight of the word.

---

Dinner at the Terrace Bar was as perfect as ever. When they were done, Kimmy took Mark’s hand without a word and led him outside. The air was cool but gentle, and the city lights shimmered below them.

“I love coming here,” she said, squeezing his arm. “Anytime. But especially on our anniversary. I always feel that first moment on the terrace in South Florida… the very first one. I’ll always cherish that.”

Mark kissed her temple. “So…” he said, reaching into his pocket.

Her eyes brightened. “You promised. No big anniversary presents.”

He grinned. “Technically, this is not an anniversary present.”

“You…” she laughed.

He pulled out a jewelry box. “Let me explain—”

She reached for it, and he teasingly pulled it back just a little. “I know you love your three-heart necklace. And I know you’ll never take off the bracelet with Brad’s birthstone.”

She nodded.

“So that makes it really hard,” he said, pressing the box to his forehead, “for a husband who wants to spoil his wife with jewelry.”

Kimmy laughed. “Who says I like being spoiled?”

“Really?” Mark said, and they both laughed as she pulled him closer.

“So,” she said, curious now, “I assume you came up with something.”

“I did,” he said, resting his forehead against hers. “And I’ll admit, as a former economics teacher, the cost-benefit analysis is questionable. But when it comes to you, I only see one thing—your happiness.”

Her eyes misted.

“This,” he said softly, “is an Egypt trip gift that just happens to be given on our anniversary.”

He handed her the box.

Her hands trembled as she opened it. Inside, glowing softly in the terrace light, was a gold necklace with the Eye of Osiris.

“Oh, honey…” she breathed. “That’s stunning.”

Mark took it and fastened it around her neck as she lifted her hair. The eye rested perfectly below the three gold hearts.

“In Egyptian mythology,” he said, “the Eye of Osiris protects you from all evil. And… I just thought… for this trip, for this moment… it was right for you.”

She pulled him close and kissed him. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”

He stepped back just enough to look at her, his voice full and warm. “And let me tell you something… you are absolutely stunning. Happy anniversary, baby.”

The cool air seemed to soften around them as they held each other, the city spread out below like a field of lights. And for a long, quiet moment, neither of them needed to say the words out loud—

Who would have thought…

Come Away With Me

Kimmy carried Brad up the walkway to Allan and Sally’s front door like she always did—carefully, instinctively, as if the world might suddenly tilt if she didn’t keep one arm firmly under him. Mark followed a step behind with the car seat, the familiar weight of it tugging at his shoulder and, oddly, at his chest too.

Inside, Jillian was in her swing, a small bundle of cheeks and curiosity, and the moment she spotted Brad, she let out a delighted little coo that sounded almost like a greeting. Brad’s face lit up in response, his whole body leaning forward like he was magnetized to her.

“Baby…” he said, pointing with absolute certainty, then looked back at Kimmy as if checking that he’d gotten it right.

Kimmy laughed, that soft, full laugh that always seemed to come from somewhere deeper than just humor. “That’s right, honey. That’s your girlfriend, Jillian. You’re staying with her for the next two weeks. And no funny business, mister.”

Brad grinned like he’d just been let in on a very good secret and pointed at Jillian again, thoroughly pleased with himself.

Mark set the car seat down and turned to Allan, his voice warm but edged with something heavier underneath. “We really can’t tell you guys how much we appreciate this. I know you said you would, and we know you mean it, but… having him for this long… it means the world to us.”

Allan clapped him lightly on the shoulder. “Our pleasure, dude. Seriously. And yeah—next one’s all six of us. No question.”

Brad didn’t quite understand why his parents were taking so long with the goodbyes, but he knew something was different. He watched them with that serious, studying look he’d developed lately, like he was filing away details for later. Kimmy kissed his cheek. Mark pressed his forehead to Brad’s for a second longer than usual.

And then they were back in the car.

As they pulled away, Kimmy turned and looked over her shoulder, her eyes already shining. “That’s… hard,” she whispered.

She didn’t get an answer. When she glanced over, she saw the tear tracking down Mark’s cheek, his jaw tight as he stared straight ahead.

“He’s okay, honey,” she said gently, reaching for his arm. “He really is.”

Mark took a long breath, the kind that starts in your chest and has to work its way out slowly. “It used to be all—all—about us,” he said quietly. “Now… he’s just as important. You know?”

Kimmy squeezed his arm. “I do know.” She paused, then tilted her head slightly, that familiar spark lighting her eyes. “But you know what else I know?”

Mark smiled before she even finished the sentence. He knew that tone. “I do,” he said softly. “But tell me anyway.”

“I choose you. You choose me. Each other. Always have. Always will.” She let that settle between them for a moment. “And as much as we love that little boy, we are going to have an amazing time. Just the two of us. Exploring the world. Together.”

Mark felt something swell in his chest—gratitude, love, that steady, grounding certainty she always seemed to bring him back to. He took her hand. “It’s always about you, baby. Let’s do this.”

The first flight took them to New York, and by the time they were walking through the terminal toward the international wing, the trip had started to feel real in that buzzing, slightly unreal way travel always did. They had time—plenty of it—so they wandered, stretched their legs, shared a quiet coffee at the gate while the giant plane waited like a promise outside the windows.

“Tell me again,” Kimmy said, eyeing the boarding area with interest, “these seats are like the ones you got us coming back from the Columbia River?”

Mark shook his head, smiling. “No. These—”

“But I thought you said we’d be able to stretch out—”

“Patience, girly girl,” he said, raising one finger theatrically. “Yes, you’ll stretch out. But these…” He leaned in a little. “They lay flat. You get your own little bed.”

Her face lit up. “Ohhh, that’s cool! And we can cuddle?”

He shook his head again, already laughing. “Separate pods.”

Her shoulders slumped in exaggerated disappointment. “Well what fun is that?” She crossed her arms, fully committing to the performance.

“Compromise,” he said. “When you’re ready to sleep, I’ll reach over, play with your hair, rub your shoulders until you’re out. Deal?”

She held the pout for exactly two more seconds, then broke into laughter. “Okay, okay. But really—we can stretch out?”

He nodded. “Really.”

When they boarded and found their seats, Kimmy turned in a slow circle, taking it all in. “It’s like a little apartment in here. These are wonderful.”

“For this price they should be,” Mark muttered.

“What, baby?”

He grinned innocently. “Nothing. Wasn’t about to go thirteen-plus hours to Cairo and sit with the common people.”

They high-fived like teenagers and settled in.

They watched two full movies. They ate a real meal on real plates with real silverware, complete with an ice cream sundae that felt delightfully excessive. At some point, the cabin lights dimmed, the world narrowed to quiet and soft hum, and they both managed to sleep—five solid hours of it—before the plane began its descent.

Cairo greeted them just before lunchtime.

Or, as their bodies insisted, very, very early in the morning.

Customs blurred by in that strange, jet-lagged haze, and then they were being met by a Viking representative, names checked off, luggage whisked away with practiced efficiency. The small van ride into the city with eight other guests was… an experience.

Mark sat wide-eyed by the window, taking in a world that felt like it ran on a completely different set of rules. Kimmy’s arm was looped tightly through his, and every couple of minutes she gasped and squeezed him as traffic surged and swerved in what appeared to be eight lanes of pure suggestion.

At one point the driver called out cheerfully, “Welcome to Egyptian traffic! We use our horns. And those lane markers? To us, those are just suggestions.”

Kimmy looked at Mark, eyes wide. “Can you imagine if we’d tried to do this ourselves? Fly here and rent a car?”

Mark swallowed. “No. No way, Jose.”

The Fairmont felt like an oasis when they arrived—cool, calm, orderly. They were handed their keys and an information packet by their guide, who explained he’d be with them every day, all day, from now until the end of the trip.

The elevator ride to the fifteenth floor was quiet, both of them suspended somewhere between exhaustion and adrenaline. When they opened the door, their bags were already there. Mark pulled them into the room while Kimmy drifted toward the floor-to-ceiling windows like she was being pulled by gravity.

“Oh… oh my God,” she breathed. “You have to—oh my—baby, come look.”

Mark smiled to himself. The pure joy this girl brings to my life. He set the bags down, walked up behind her, and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close.

“Ahh,” he said softly, seeing the river stretch below them. “The Nile.” He leaned in and whispered, “Welcome to ancient Egypt, baby. We made it.”

She turned her head slowly, her face full of wonder. “No—look.” She lifted her hand and pointed.

He followed her gaze.

And there they were.

Through the haze in the distance, rising out of the desert like something half-dreamed, the pyramids of Giza stood—ancient, massive, impossibly real.

“Oh… wow,” Mark said quietly.

And in that moment, with the city humming below them and history pressing in from the horizon, the full weight of where they were—and how they’d gotten here—finally settled into the room.

The Wonder of Love — Day Two: Cairo

Kimmy reached for Mark’s shirt, half-asleep and determined to steal five more minutes of warmth—but her hand closed on empty sheets. She frowned, rolled over, and blinked the room into focus.

Mark was standing at the picture windows.

“Baby…” she said sleepily.

He turned, already smiling, and pointed out toward the hazy gold of the morning. “The pyramids. Un-freaking-believable. And we’re going to see them tomorrow.”

Kimmy smiled at the excitement in his voice—the same voice he’d had when he used to talk about this stuff in class, when history wasn’t just dates but stories. She pushed herself up on one elbow and opened her arms a little. “Come back to bed, honey. Just for a little bit. Please.”

Mark laughed and shook his head. “You know that’s just illegal—to use that tone and give me that look.”

She giggled and scooted over, wrapping herself against him when he came back anyway, his hands warm and familiar as they moved over her back. “Tell me what we’ll see today,” she murmured, eyes already drifting closed again.

“Okay,” he said, trying to remember the agenda. “First, I think we’re seeing an ancient mosque. Pretty famous. Then the Grand Egyptian Museum. That should be amazing.”

She lifted her head. “Isn’t that the new one that just opened?”

He nodded. “Yeah. When I was here years ago, everything was in the National Museum of Egyptian Civilization. But they built this huge new place, and from what I’ve read, there are thousands of things on display that have never been shown before.”

She smiled at him, really looked at him. “You always said this was your favorite period when you taught World History. You have to be excited.”

He leaned his forehead into hers. “What I’m most excited about… is seeing it with you.”

Her heart did that quiet, familiar skip. Then her gaze drifted down, thoughtful. “How do you think our little boy is doing?”

Mark considered it for a moment. “Knowing him? I’d say he’s a little confused that we’re not there. But his day is probably being dominated by playtime and hanging out with his ‘girlfriend’ Jillian.”

Kimmy sighed softly. “I hope so.”

---

After breakfast, they joined nearly seventy-five other guests in a meeting room for orientation. Three Egyptologists stood at the front, and one of them—a distinguished man in his early sixties with dark-framed glasses and a calm, confident presence—stepped up to the microphone.

“Good morning, and welcome to Egypt and Viking’s Pharaohs and Pyramids itinerary. I’m Dr. Hani, and I’ll be your lead program director. My two colleagues and I will divide you into three groups for the duration of your journey. Those of you in Group A will be with me.”

He clicked a remote, and a list of names appeared on the screen.

“There we are,” Kimmy whispered.

For the next forty minutes, Dr. Hani and his colleagues walked them through the coming two weeks—temples, tombs, rivers, stories older than most of the world’s memory. When it was over, they had about half an hour before meeting at the buses outside.

On the ride to the mosque, Mark and Kimmy settled in, and a couple across the aisle leaned over.

“Hi, I’m Larry, this is Lisa. We’re from New Jersey. Where are you guys from?”

Introductions were exchanged, easy and friendly.

“They seem nice,” Kimmy whispered to Mark as the bus pulled away.

As they neared their destination, Dr. Hani’s voice came through their earpieces. “This is the Citadel of Saladin. It’s over seven hundred years old. We’ll walk on the original steps and then visit its unique mosque. Let’s test your quiet boxes—Channel Three.”

For the next hour and a half, they moved through stone and shadow, through stories layered on stories. The air felt heavy with history. Kimmy ran her fingers lightly along cool walls. Mark kept stopping, just for a second, to take it all in.

At lunch, they sat with Larry and Lisa.

“Have you traveled with Viking before?” Mark asked.

“This is our third,” Larry said. “Lisa talked me into this one. She’s always been fascinated with Egypt.”

Kimmy smiled and squeezed Mark’s arm. “Same with my husband. He taught World History. He loves this stuff, right, baby?”

Mark nodded. “I was here once, a long time ago, but I didn’t sail the Nile. I’m really excited about that. But the pyramids… yeah. That’s going to be something.”

---

The Grand Egyptian Museum left everyone quiet for a moment when they arrived. The building itself was stunning—sweeping, modern, luminous—like something the ancient world and the future had agreed to build together.

“As you can see,” Dr. Hani said through their earpieces, “we could spend days here and still not see everything. I’ll take you through the highlights.”

They moved past massive temple pieces, ancient doorways etched with hieroglyphics, sarcophagi where the blues and reds still looked impossibly alive.

“Oh my,” Mark whispered. “Look at the detail.”

He explained softly to Kimmy how and why the Egyptians mummified their dead, how belief and ritual and hope were all bound together in these objects.

When they reached the statue of Pharaoh Khafre—a shining gray, life-sized presence—Kimmy’s jaw dropped.

“He’s the one who had the Step Pyramid built,” Mark whispered.

Larry tapped Mark’s shoulder. “Can I just say something?”

“Sure.”

“I am so enjoying watching you enjoy this. Your joy is contagious. We’re going to follow you two everywhere.”

Kimmy laughed. “This was his favorite period when he taught. He knows a lot about it,” she said, not even trying to hide the pride in her voice.

Upstairs, they entered the galleries dedicated to King Tutankhamun. Dr. Hani gave a brief orientation, then gestured to a doorway.

“Inside, you will see the famous gold burial mask and both the inner and outer sarcophagi. No photos. Take your time.”

They walked in quietly.

“Look at that,” Kimmy whispered, passing the intricately detailed coffin.

Then they turned the corner.

Under a spotlight, the mask gleamed.

“Oh my God,” Larry breathed.

“Right?” Mark said softly. “It looks just like the pictures. But… there it is. There it is.”

Kimmy slipped her arms around his waist, and they stood there for a long moment.

“That’s just… stunning,” she whispered.

He leaned down. “Like you are, honey.”

She smiled and murmured, “I think the pharaoh would have you taken away for that.”

They heard Lisa laugh behind them. “You two are just too cute.”

---

By late afternoon, they were back at the hotel. Mark was loading photos onto his laptop when Kimmy’s phone rang.

“Oh—baby, it’s Sally. She’s FaceTiming.”

She answered, and Brad’s face filled the screen.

“Momma! Momma!” he said, grinning.

Mark leaned in. “Hey, buddy!”

“Daddy!”

Kimmy’s eyes filled. “Hi, honey. How are you?”

Brad held up a toy ring. “Momma… Daddy go bye-bye.”

Mark chuckled. “That’s right. Are you playing with Jillian?”

Brad paused, looked over his shoulder, then beamed. “Juju…” he said, pointing.

Sally appeared behind him. “Hey, you two. How’s Egypt?”

They talked for a few minutes—about the day, about Brad, about everything and nothing. Kimmy watched her son’s face, memorizing it again.

“He looks happy,” she said softly.

“He is,” Sally said, kissing the top of Brad’s head. “He misses you, but he’s been great. Slept all night, too. Allan was ready to get up with him, but he was out cold.”

They said their goodbyes. Brad tried to blow a kiss the way Kimmy did.

When the screen went dark, Kimmy leaned into Mark, and the room seemed to hold both the wonder of the day and the ache of loving someone who wasn’t there.

And somehow, it all fit together.

Desert Woman — Day Three: The Pyramids (Part One)

Mark turned his head and saw the clock on the nightstand glowing 6:18 in the dark. He reached for Kimmy’s hand.

It wasn’t there.

He shifted, squinting, and found her sitting cross-legged on the bed, elbows on her knees, chin resting on her folded hands, watching him with bright, awake eyes that already held the day.

He smiled a sleepy, crooked smile. “Baby… what… what are you doing?”

She sighed, soft and fond. “I don’t get to watch you sleep very often. And I’m just loving it. I keep hoping you’re dreaming about the pyramids.”

He reached up, hooked a finger gently in the collar of her shirt, and pulled her down onto him. His arms went around her automatically, and he kissed her, slow and warm.

“Has anyone,” he said, drawing it out, “e-v-e-r told you just how adorable you are?”

She blushed and gave a little snort. “Hmm. Maybe once or twice.”

She sat back up, suddenly serious. “Big problem.”

He propped himself on his elbows and frowned. “Before coffee? Really? A big problem?”

She hopped out of bed, skipped toward the bathroom, then stopped in the doorway and turned. “You have to be honest, okay?”

“Well… I guess,” he said carefully.

She wagged a finger. “No. I’m serious. I need brutal honesty.”

He held up both hands in surrender.

While she fussed in the bathroom, Mark got dressed in what he’d laid out the night before: a long-sleeved white linen shirt, khaki shorts, tennis shoes. He was just tying his shoes when the bathroom door opened.

“Ready?” she called.

He turned. “Sure. Ready for what?”

“First reaction,” she said from just out of sight. “And remember—honesty.”

He shook his head, smiling, and then she stepped out.

For a second, his breath actually caught. “Oh… wow. Wow, you are hot,” he said, looking her up and down before he could stop himself.

She was wearing a white halter, the low neckline framing her necklaces, the tails tied high, the shorts snug and cut high on her thighs. She smiled, blushed, and then searched his face.

“Okay, now really be honest. I knew you’d like it. But is it too much? And the shorts—they’re short. And tight. I need to know, honey. Really.”

He put a finger to his lips, studying her. “Can I see the alternative before I answer?”

She nodded. “Fair point. Be right back.”

A few minutes later, she came out again. The halter was untied, falling in a straight, easy line to her waist. The shorts were still white, but looser, longer—comfortable, practical, still unmistakably her.

She struck the same open-palmed pose. “Okay. First or second?”

He walked over and took her hands. Her eyes were bright, a little anxious, waiting.

“Honesty, right?” he said.

She nodded.

He squeezed her hands. “Nobody—and you know this—nobody enjoys showing off his attractive wife more than me.”

She blushed.

“And yeah, I do enjoy it when other men look at you and I get to wonder how I’m so lucky.”

She giggled softly.

“But,” he went on, “you know how I feel about the shorty-short pajamas?”

“I do,” she said, smiling. “You love them.”

“Right. And I’ve told you those are for my eyes only.” He smiled. “If you want to wear the first outfit, I’m all for it. I’d enjoy that very much. But… you asked for honesty. I think you would be more comfortable in the second. Looser. Easier. And for a day like today—being out in the heat, walking around history—that matters.”

He paused, then added with a grin, “And if it were up to me, I’d love to see the other shorts… at home. I’m sure I can work out some kind of incentive.”

She beamed and threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked, smiling into her hair.

“For being honest. And for always trying to protect me—not just from other people, but from me getting in my own head and not enjoying something this big. And maybe from a look or a comment I’d overhear. That means everything to me.”

He felt that familiar tug in his chest. “I won’t let anyone ever hurt you,” he said quietly. “If they try, they’ll have to answer to me. And honestly? You’re adorable in this outfit.”

She patted his head playfully. “Let me get my shoes and we’ll go to breakfast, okay?”

He gave her a crooked smile. “But… I do want to see those shorts. Frequently. At home.”

She laughed and took his hand, and they headed downstairs—two people already buzzing with the sense that something unforgettable was waiting for them.

---

Group A gathered in front of the Fairmont, a low, excited energy running through everyone as they boarded. When the bus pulled away, Dr. Hani’s voice came through their headsets.

“First, we will visit Saqqara, where the Step Pyramid towers on the horizon. Saqqara is an old story… and a long story.”

As the city thinned and the desert opened up, he wove centuries together—pharaohs and priests, belief and ambition, ceremony and stone. When they arrived, the pyramid rose on the crest like something drawn out of time itself.

“Whoa,” Kimmy said, slipping in her earpiece.

Mark just stopped and stared for a second before lifting his camera. “When I was here before, we didn’t see this,” he said quietly.

They walked through the ruins of the column corridor into what had once been a ceremonial square. From a distance the pyramid had seemed enormous. From here, it felt almost unreal—too big, too old, too stubbornly present.

“How on earth could they ever have built that?” Larry murmured beside Mark. “All by hand?”

Lisa took a few photos, then turned to Kimmy. “Want me to get one of you two? Your first pyramid.”

“Oh yes, please,” Kimmy said, already pulling Mark close.

Dr. Hani gathered them again and pointed toward the crest of the plateau. “Just below the ridge,” he said, tapping the air with his sign, “there are active excavations today. Dozens of new tombs have been discovered in just the last few months.”

A wave of “oh” and “wow” rolled through the group.

They met again at the far end of the complex, where Dr. Hani held his sign high. “This,” he said, indicating a smaller pyramid, “is the pyramid of King Unnas. When it was discovered, the sarcophagus was empty, but it is one of the best-preserved in Egypt.”

“Oh wow,” Mark whispered.

Dr. Hani paused, then pointed to a narrow path. “And Viking has arranged for those who wish to… to descend into the burial chamber below.”

Kimmy gasped and squeezed Mark’s arm. “So cool.”

“One thing,” Dr. Hani added, lifting a finger. “The passage is not steep, but it is narrow. You will need to stay bent over the entire way.”

Kimmy looked at Mark. “What about your back, baby?”

He shook his head. “Don’t care. No way I’m not going into a pyramid.”

They joined the line. Halfway down, he felt her squeeze his hand. “You okay?”

He turned, and she saw the pure, unfiltered excitement in his eyes. She grinned.

The burial chamber opened up around them, walls soaring high toward the apex, covered in hieroglyphics that looked impossibly fresh. The ceiling was a faded deep blue, scattered with painted stars.

They slowly turned in a full circle, taking it in.

“Baby,” Mark said, holding both her hands, “we are inside a pyramid. Can you believe this?”

She tried to answer. Nothing came out.

When they finally emerged into the heat again, Dr. Hani gathered them and led them back to the bus. He did a headcount, picked up the microphone, and smiled.

“Next, my friends, a special buffet lunch. And then… on to the pyramids of Giza.”

The bus erupted in cheers.

And Mark and Kimmy looked at each other, both knowing this day was only just beginning.

Desert Woman — Day Three: The Pyramids (Part Two)

Lunch arrived like a small, elegant intermission—an elaborate hotel, cool marble, shaded tables, and the soft clink of plates after a morning spent in sun and stone. Mark and Kimmy sat with Larry and Lisa, all four talking at once, reliving the descent into the pyramid, the stars on the ceiling, the way history had felt suddenly close enough to touch.

The buffet ran the length of the room—bright salads, warm breads, trays of entrées, and a full parade of desserts that looked almost ceremonial in their arrangement. As a waitress cleared their plates, Dr. Hani paused at their table, smiling.

“Did you enjoy this morning?”

“Oh, so much,” Kimmy said. “My husband taught World History—Egypt is his favorite—and he thought it was amazing. Right, honey?”

Mark nodded. “Better than I could have imagined.”

Larry and Lisa echoed it with enthusiasm.

Dr. Hani raised a finger. “If you thought that was something, you are in for a real treat this afternoon.” He turned to move on, then pivoted back. “Do any of you like bread pudding?”

Mark and Larry exchanged a look—the kind men exchange when dessert is mentioned. “Oh, my favorite,” Mark said.

“Second silver pan from the end,” Dr. Hani said, pointing. “It is excellent.”

Mark and Larry went together, bowls and spoons in hand. Mark lifted the lid—and just stared. The pan held something that looked like a pale yellow cream soup, with small doughy orbs floating here and there.

Larry muttered, “What the….”

They looked at each other in perfect unison. “Bread pudding?”

Mark shrugged and dipped in the spoon. “Nothing like my mom’s.”

“Or mine,” Larry said.

Back at the table, Kimmy and Lisa were already smiling. “Where’s the bread pudding, boys?” Kimmy asked.

Mark raised his eyebrows as a ribbon of liquid slid off his spoon. “Egyptian bread pudding?”

They each took a cautious bite, exchanged a glance, and quietly pushed the bowls aside.

Soon Group A was back on the bus, the city sliding by in bursts of color and motion. Then, as if a curtain had been pulled aside, the road opened and the Great Pyramid began to rise on the horizon.

“Oh… look,” Kimmy said, her voice suddenly reverent.

Mark swallowed. “Amazing.”

They parked, and Dr. Hani began telling the story as they stepped down into the sun. Kimmy waited for Mark and looped her arm through his. He stopped, just stood there for a second.

“Wow,” he said.

She smiled and said it back, louder, like she wanted the word to be big enough for the moment. “W-O-W.”

“Impressed?” she asked, giving his arm a squeeze.

“You know I’ve taught about these,” he said. “I was here years ago. You watched the videos with me before we left. But in person… wow.”

And Kimmy thought, I love seeing him like this. I love seeing a dream come true.

At the base of the Great Pyramid, Dr. Hani pointed to a row of lighter stones lining the bottom. “Let me draw your attention here. Gaze upward, my friends…”

They all tilted their heads back. Mark let out a quiet, disbelieving breath. “So… so high. How did they—”

The blocks were rough and immense, stacked in what looked like stubborn, impossible order and yet resolving into a nearly perfect triangle.

“Imagine,” Dr. Hani said, “all of this once encased in pure white, polished limestone. The sunlight would have been blinding. Visible for miles.”

The image lit in Mark’s mind like a flare.

“The whole thing?” Kimmy asked softly. “Smooth? Shining? All the way up there?”

“Yes,” Mark said, still staring.

They were given a time to meet back at the bus, and the group splintered into small knots of explorers. Mark took Kimmy’s hand. “Come on. I have an idea.” He caught Larry’s eye and waved him over, then handed him his phone. “Wait for my signal—and then we’ll do one for you two.”

Kimmy looked at him. “What are we doing, baby?”

He led her to the stones and put a foot in the gap between two blocks. “Trust me. This will be awesome.”

She laughed, a little unsure, and followed. He climbed first, turned, and offered his hand each time. On the third level, he drew her in with an arm around her waist.

“Okay,” he said, raising his free hand. “Sing it out with me. Where are we?”

They faced the camera, arms lifted, and together called, “We’re on top of the Great Pyramid of Gizaaaaa!”

Larry clicked away until he was sure he had it. When they climbed down, Mark’s grin nearly split his face as he scrolled through the photos. He turned the screen to Kimmy.

“Look at us. We are on the Great Pyramid. How cool is that?”

After Mark returned the favor for Larry and Lisa, he pulled Kimmy close, still glowing. “I told you we’d see the world together. And doing it—doing this—with you… it’s everything.”

She turned him, slid her arms around his neck, rose onto her toes, and kissed him. As Larry and Lisa reached the bottom, Lisa nudged Larry and said quietly, “Have you ever seen two people more attached to each other? Just so sweet.”

They made their way back toward the bus, the group buzzing with the kind of energy that feels like a finale—until Dr. Hani stood and lifted the microphone.

“And now, valued friends, Viking has arranged a very special treat.”

The bus went quiet.

“We are headed to a most ideal photo location,” he continued, “where you can take pictures with all three pyramids framing your background…”

A collective “Ooooh” rippled through the seats.

“And,” he added, pausing just long enough to make everyone lean forward, “…we have arranged for you to ride a camel.”

The cheer that followed was loud enough to startle the driver.

Kimmy turned to Mark. “Honey—your back. First the pyramid, all the walking, the climbing… is this a good idea?”

He covered her hand with his. “Baby, I’m fine. And even if I weren’t—riding a camel with the most beautiful woman in the world, in front of the pyramids? That’s a moment. The picture will be epic.”

Being helped into the saddle felt like being launched into the air as the camel stood, and Kimmy laughed, gripping the handle while Mark steadied her. They were led a short way, framed just right, and the guide took Mark’s phone to capture several shots.

When they climbed down, Dr. Hani pointed up a small path. “The most dramatic photo can be taken there. Let me know if you want me to take it.”

“Yes, please,” Lisa said. “Could you take one of the four of us, too?”

He did—first couples, then all four—until everyone was smiling and dusty and glowing.

Back on the bus, phones were passed up and down the aisle, strangers turned instant curators of each other’s joy. As they pulled away, Dr. Hani asked, “Was today a great day?”

Cheers answered him.

He smiled and raised a hand. “You forget in the excitement…”

Kimmy looked at Mark. His eyes widened. He leaned in. “We haven’t seen the Sphinx.”

Dr. Hani gestured to the left. “We are minutes away from one final stop—the mysterious Sphinx.”

Another round of cheers.

A short walk later, they stood just yards from the iconic figure—half man, half lion—its gaze fixed somewhere beyond time. They circled as Dr. Hani told what was known and what was still debated, and more photos followed, the light already beginning to soften.

As the sun slid lower, the bus threaded back into Cairo traffic. Dr. Hani stood once more. “A reminder—luggage out by eleven tonight. Breakfast opens at six. We meet in the lobby at eight fifteen for our flight to Luxor. Tomorrow: a temple, boarding the Viking Osiris, and another temple after dinner. Sleep well, friends. A big day awaits.”

After a light dinner with Larry and Lisa, Mark and Kimmy finally returned to their room, tired in that happy, humming way that follows a day you know you’ll remember. They pulled out suitcases.

Kimmy zipped hers. “Done.”

Mark looked over. “Baby?”

She raised her arms. “I win.”

He started to laugh. “What… what are you wearing tomorrow? Your birthday suit?”

Her mouth opened, then she laughed. “Oh my gosh—I forgot to leave something out.”

They finished packing. Mark slid into bed and heard her brushing her teeth.

“Honey, I’m turning out the light, okay?” he called.

A garbled “Okay” came back.

The room went dark, moonlight just tracing the wall. The bathroom door opened, the light clicked off, and Kimmy’s voice came softly from the foot of the bed. “Baby… turn on the light for a minute.”

He did—and sat straight up.

“Oh… that… that’s…”

She put one hand on her hip and tucked hair behind her ear with the other, smiling. “Yes, baby. The Christmas negligee.”

His smile filled the room.

She circled the bed. “You can turn the light off now.”

And the day—so full of stone and sky and wonder—ended the way the best days do: quietly, together, and with love.

 

Come Sail Away — Day Four: Luxor & the Viking Osiris

Part One: The Temple of Karnak

The hotel room was still dark, lit only by the distant glow of Cairo’s city lights slipping in around the curtains. Kimmy stirred and reached for Mark, finding his leg instead of his chest.

“Hey, baby,” she murmured, still half asleep, and cuddled closer up against him.  “I am one happy girl, you know?”  She opened one eye and saw his face lit by the soft glow of his phone. He was smiling—wide, quiet, that particular smile he got when his heart was somewhere tender.

“Honey… what are you doing?” she asked, sitting up and absently pulling the silk spaghetti strap of the Christmas negligee back onto her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” he whispered. “Look…”

She curled into his arm as he slid the phone between them and began slowly swiping through photos. A small gasp escaped her, and then he heard the telltale sniffle.

“Oh, Brad…”

There he was—smiling, splashing in the bathtub, sitting in his high chair, standing in front of the TV with total concentration, laughing with Jillian. And then the last one: clearly Allan had taken it. Brad sat on Sally’s lap, pointing at her laptop screen, where a picture of Mark and Kimmy in front of the pyramids filled the display.

Mark brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “We miss him. Of course we do. But look how happy he is.”

She sighed, a little broken, a little grateful. “I miss him so much… but I’m also loving the us time.” She laid her head in his lap and clutched his shirt like she needed the fabric to keep her anchored.

He stroked her hair slowly. “We were smart to take this trip now. He’s old enough to know we’re gone, but still young enough that his whole world is play and discovery. In a year or two, it’ll be harder.”

She snuggled closer. “Then we’ll just have to take him with us.”

Mark smiled at that and kissed the top of her head.

---

After an early breakfast, they were on the bus for the short drive to the Cairo airport. The flight was smooth, the desert slowly giving way to the green ribbon of the Nile as they descended into Luxor. Bags were gathered, and Dr. Hani collected Group A in a corner of the terminal.

“Everyone here?” He counted with a practiced eye. “Good. It’s about a twenty-minute drive to the Karnak Temple complex. It is hot today, my friends. Please take water, use sunscreen, and wear your hats. You will find it… unforgettable.”

The heat hit them as soon as they stepped off the bus.

“Man, it is hot,” Larry said, already wiping his forehead.

“All part of the gig,” Mark said with a grin, pulling out his handkerchief. He handed Kimmy a cold bottle of water. “Here, baby.”

She took his arm, and they followed the group forward.

They walked along a wide paved avenue as Dr. Hani’s voice flowed through their earpieces. “This, my friends, is the Avenue of the Sphinxes. Imagine what it must have looked like thirty-five hundred years ago.”

He stopped near a massive opening in an enormous wall and pointed back the way they’d come. “This avenue was lined with statues like these… all the way…” He lifted his lollipop and gestured into the distance. “…all the way back into Luxor, leading to the temple we will visit later today.”

Kimmy tugged Mark’s arm. “Oh my…”

Larry stared, mouth open. “Seriously?”

Mark closed his eyes for a second, picturing the processions, the banners, the dust, the sound of footsteps and drums stretching for miles. He shook his head slowly.

“And here,” Dr. Hani continued, turning toward the gate, “is the first of ten gates—the first pylon. These walls are over fifty feet thick and rise more than seventy-five feet high.”

Everyone tilted their heads back.

“Let us proceed.”

Kimmy watched Mark spin slowly, camera clicking, his mouth forming a constant stream of quiet astonishment. “Oh… oh wow… oh my… yikes… oh…”

He turned to her as they crossed another gate. “This is it, baby. This should be the Hall of Pillars.”

Dr. Hani stopped, and the group did too—swallowed by a forest of stone columns rising into the bright sky.

“Welcome to the Great Hypostyle Hall,” he said. “One hundred and thirty-four pillars. Only the pharaoh, his inner circle, and the priests were allowed to walk this far into the temple.”

Mark leaned toward Kimmy. “Can you imagine? All this work… and almost no one ever saw it.”

She breathed, “How did they ever…”

Dr. Hani walked slowly among the columns, pointing. “These hieroglyphics are original. Many of the colors you see are original. They tell the story of Egypt—of the pharaoh and his family, of belief, of power, of life.”

Mark stopped at one pillar and drew Kimmy with him. He lifted her hand and placed it gently against the carved stone. “This is called a cartouche.”

“A car… what?” she asked, tracing the shape with her finger.

“Cartouche. It’s a signature. A mark of someone important.”

She pulled her hand back slightly. “Oh… wow…”

Larry and Lisa came up behind them, drawn in. Mark said quietly, “Imagine if in thirty-five hundred years someone found a letter you wrote. Or opened an ancient laptop and read something you saved. Thirty-five hundred years… and this is still here.”

Kimmy looked at him with that familiar mix of pride and tenderness. When Larry and Lisa moved on, she turned him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him softly.

“You are just amazing.”

He held her close. “It’s… it’s just so mind-boggling.”

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” she asked.

“I would anyway,” he said, then his voice caught just a little. “But having you here—seeing you enjoy it too—that means everything to me.”

She took his hand and pulled him along to catch up with the group.

They stopped again in the center of the hall.

“Here,” Dr. Hani said, slowly turning in a full circle, “you stand among one hundred and thirty-four pillars. Look carefully at them. Each one. Imagine the craftsmanship. The pride. Now look up.”

They did. The tops bloomed like stone flowers, towering nearly eighty feet, once holding a roof that filtered sunlight into sacred space.

“Excuse me, Dr. Hani?” someone asked. “How big is this hall?”

He smiled. “You know Westminster Abbey in London? It would fit inside here.”

Silence answered him.

Kimmy slipped closer to Mark, half in awe, half in instinct. “It’s… it’s almost scary how impressive it is.”

He led her a few steps back from the group. “Here. Stay right there.”

“Oh, honey, no—”

“Just smile. That’s it.”

He took the picture. When she walked over, he showed her the screen. His eyes were wet.

“Look at you,” he said quietly. “Here. In this place. You’re glowing. You’re beautiful.”

She blushed and thought, How does he do this? He always sees me.

At the final gate, Dr. Hani explained the inner sanctum, then checked his watch. “You have thirty minutes on your own. Wander. Ask questions if you like. But in thirty minutes—we leave. We must reach the ship before lunch.”

Mark, Kimmy, Larry, and Lisa wandered slowly back through the ruins. Very little was said.

Some places don’t ask for words. They ask for presence.

Come Sail Away: Day 4 – Luxor & the Viking Osiris

Part 2:  The Viking Osiris

The bus rolled to a smooth stop, and there she was—the Viking Osiris—gleaming in the afternoon sun. The red trim and Viking logo seemed to leap off the crisp white hull, the ship looking less like transportation and more like a promise. Crew members lined the walkway, smiling, hands folded neatly, welcoming each guest as if they’d been waiting all day just for them.

Dr. Hani stood at the foot of the steps with his microphone. “Friends, you only need to show your passports at the front desk, and a crew member will escort you to your stateroom. Your luggage has already been delivered there while we visited Karnak.”

Kimmy slipped her hand into Mark’s as they stepped aboard. The ship smelled faintly of polished wood and something citrusy-clean, cool air brushing against skin still warm from the sun. The atrium rose three levels, open and bright, light spilling down from above and glinting off brass railings.

A crew member greeted them by name—by name—and guided them down the corridor to their stateroom. When the door opened, Kimmy’s eyes widened. “This is really bigger than either of the Viking ships we were on before, isn’t it?”

Mark nodded, already smiling, already doing that quiet mental cataloging of windows, storage, light. He checked his watch. “We’ve got about half an hour before lunch. Unpack or take a stroll?”

Kimmy thought for a second, then tilted her head. “How about unpack now and tour after lunch? That okay with you, honey?”

“Perfect.” Mark lifted her suitcase onto the bed. “Here you go, baby.”

She ran her hand up and down his back—just a simple, familiar touch that said we’re here, together—and they fell into their easy rhythm. Shirts folded, shoes tucked away, toiletries lined up like they’d done this a hundred times before. Twenty minutes later Kimmy closed the closet door with a satisfied little clap. “And we’re done! With time to spare.”

At lunch they spotted Larry and Lisa and slid into seats with them. A waitress approached, all warmth and energy. “Hello, my name is Sofia. I’m from Portugal, and I’ll be taking care of you. You are Mr. and Mrs. Love, yes?”

Kimmy blinked. “How did you—? We just—”

Sofia laughed softly. “We study everyone’s photos. For a day now.”

She greeted Larry and Lisa by name too, took their orders, and disappeared with a promise of something “very good today.” The meal was exactly what Viking did so well—beautiful, unhurried, quietly impressive. When Sofia returned with dessert menus, she smiled. “Something sweet?”

Mark motioned her closer. “How’s the carrot cake?”

Her eyes lit up. “Rich. One of my favorites.”

He glanced at Kimmy with a mock-serious look. Kimmy grinned and said, “Go ahead, ask her, baby.”

Mark pointed at the menu. “I’ll have the carrot cake. But could you ask the chef if he might put an extra layer of icing on mine, please?”

Larry and Lisa chuckled. Kimmy pointed at Mark. “You’ll learn my husband has a very serious sweet tooth. Especially for icing.”

Mark raised both hands. “I own this.”

When the plates arrived, his had at least an extra half-inch of icing. “Whoa,” he said reverently. “That’s perfect. Wait—Sofia, please.”

He handed his phone to Kimmy. “This needs to be documented.”

Sofia leaned in with a playful smile as Kimmy took the picture, and all four of them laughed like old friends.

They wandered up to the top deck afterward, taking it all in. Canvas stretched wide, shading cushioned chairs and sofas arranged for lingering. The river lapped against the ship in a slow, ancient rhythm.

“You’d know you were on a Viking ship,” Kimmy said, turning slowly, “even if you didn’t see the logo. The look, the feel—it’s all so… Viking.”

Mark pointed to the canvas stretched across the top of the deck providing shaded seating. “This is new—and perfect for Egypt.”

Kimmy noticed the big fans along the rail, softly humming, mist drifting in a gentle arc. “That’s a very nice touch.”

They stopped near a square of sofas and chairs arranged like a little stage. Mark lifted a finger dramatically. “And here is where Monsieur Poirot will gather the guests to identify who committed the murder on the Nile.”

Kimmy laughed. “You are ridiculous.”

“Historically accurate ridiculous,” he said, taking her hand.

They toured the dining room, then the lounge, greeted everywhere with the same warm refrain: “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Love. Welcome. Please let us know if we can be of service.”

They found seats in the lounge and ordered wine—red for Kimmy, white for Mark. The waiter returned Mark’s room key and gestured to the slip. “You’ll note there’s no charge. Your travel agent gifted you the drink package. All beverages are included. Just sign here.”

Kimmy’s eyebrows rose. “Did you know about this?”

Mark shook his head as he signed. “No, but that’s incredibly nice. We’ll thank her tonight.”

Soon Dr. Hani and the other Egyptologists appeared, now in navy suits, crisp white shirts, red ties—sharp and formal. He introduced the captain, the staff, then the chef, who received enthusiastic applause.

“I have one special announcement,” the chef said, smiling. “On the final night, we will serve a very special dessert… Egyptian bread pudding.”

The room applauded, but Mark and Larry exchanged looks.

Larry leaned in. “I hope it’s different from Cairo, because that was hardly bread pudding.”

Mark grinned. “We can dream.”

Dr. Hani outlined the next day—morning sailing, arrival in Qena, then Dendara. He showed slides of the temple.  “Had you sailed with us just two years ago, what you’d have seen at the Temple of Dendara would have been completely different than what you will see tomorrow.”  He clicked to the next slide of the presentation and the picture showed the interior of an ancient temple, the walls covered in black soot, so much so that the engravings and hieroglyphics were difficult to make out.  “This is what it looked like just two years ago when we took our guests here. And now….” He clicked and the next slide showed beautiful blues and golds everywhere on the walls and ceilings. 

“A process was finally discovered how to remove the centuries of soot without damaging the hieroglyphics and this is the treat you will get tomorrow.  And,” he said, lowering his voice conspiratorially, “there is one more surprise unique to Dendara. But… that must remain a secret.”

Good-natured groans filled the room.

“Temple of Luxor in thirty minutes,” he concluded. “Please be prompt.”

Back in their stateroom, Mark caught Kimmy’s hand and led her to their small balcony doors, slid them open and led her out.  He paused and she stepped in front of him knowing their ritual.  He wrapped his arms around her waist, kissed her neck and said, “All of it has been so amazing….but now….now we sail the Nile.  How exciting, isn’t it baby?”  Kimmy leaned back into him, pulled his hands tighter around her waist, and sighed. She knew he was thinking it too.

“Who would have thought?”

And below them, the Nile kept moving—slow, patient, eternal—ready to carry their story forward.

Part 3:  The Luxor Temple

After the meeting, Mark and Kimmy changed back into shorts and light shirts. Even in the late afternoon, the Egyptian sun still pressed down with a dry, shimmering heat that seemed to cling to skin and stone alike. The bus ride from the Osiris to the Luxor Temple took barely twenty minutes, but as soon as they stepped off, both of them stopped short.

The temple seemed to sit in a vast, sunken square, as if the world around it had slowly risen and left it behind.

Dr. Hani’s voice came smoothly through their quiet-box earpieces. “You’ll notice the difference in ground level. Here,”—his lollipop swept in a slow arc to indicate where they stood—“we are at what was ground level some three thousand years ago.”

Kimmy halted and looked up at the current street level, her mouth parting. “How could that happen?” she whispered. “How could the ground get… that much higher?”

Mark slipped his arm around her waist, smiling. “Ah, the wonders of Egypt, my queen.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder and murmured, “You’re too sweet,” then gave his hand a gentle squeeze as they followed the group forward.

At the entrance, Dr. Hani gestured upward to the colossal seated statues. “Behold Pharaoh Ramses II. Nearly one hundred years after this temple was completed, he became pharaoh—and he redesigned much of it as a monument to himself.”

Larry muttered, “Nothing like building your own legacy,” and a ripple of quiet laughter moved through the group.

They passed through gates and courtyards that felt familiar now in their rhythm—pylon, open space, inner passage—but it was immediately clear Luxor was different from Karnak. Smaller. More broken. More openly wounded by time. Where Karnak had felt endless and overwhelming, Luxor felt intimate and weathered, its stones bearing the long, visible cost of centuries.

In the second inner courtyard, Dr. Hani stopped before a wall carved with a long procession of figures. “Look closely here, my dear friends. You see the sixteen princes of Ramses.”

Kimmy studied the faces. “Sixteen,” she said softly. “That’s a big family.”

Dr. Hani turned to her with a gentle smile. “Oh my dear, you are mistaken. Ramses did not have sixteen children. He had well over one hundred.”

A collective breath caught.

Mark leaned closer to the wall. “Look,” he said quietly to Kimmy, pointing, “every single face is different.”

Dr. Hani, close enough to hear, brightened. “Yes, my friends—everyone gather. Mr. Love is quite right. Every face is unique. Had we met these princes, I am certain their resemblances—and their differences—would have been remarkable.”

Kimmy squeezed Mark’s arm, pride warming her smile. Coach Love, World History mode, she thought fondly, then whispered, “Way to go, honey.”

He tried to look casual, but the grin tugged hard at the corners of his mouth.

They moved on into an open area where massive circular stones lay scattered across the ground like fallen giants.

“You may notice these,” Dr. Hani said, pointing from one to another. “Does anyone recognize what they are?”

Mark’s eyes traced their shape. “Are these… column bases? From a hall like the one at Karnak?”

Dr. Hani beamed. “An excellent observation, sir. Yes, indeed.”

Kimmy’s grip tightened again, and she shot him that look—half admiration, half that’s my guy—that always made his chest feel too small for his heart.

Because of the temple’s ruined state, their visit was shorter than Karnak’s. As they exited through the main gate and passed the towering statues of Ramses once more, Dr. Hani pointed down the way beyond the bus. “Look there, my friends. Do you see it? The remains of the Avenue of Sphinxes. It leads back to Karnak, where we were earlier today.”

It felt strange and wonderful to realize they had, in some small way, traced an ancient ceremonial path—by bus, yes—but still, by story and stone.

Back on the Osiris, everyone changed for dinner and reconvened in the dining room. The evening unfolded in that unhurried Viking way—one elegant course following another, glasses refilled quietly, conversation rising and falling like a tide. Mark and Kimmy, Larry and Lisa were joined by another couple from South Carolina, and soon the talk drifted from today’s marvels to past travels, future plans, and the strange joy of finding yourself among new friends in a faraway place.

By 8:30, the dining room had thinned, and Mark and Kimmy finally headed back to their stateroom.

“I’m beat,” Kimmy said as she passed him into the room. “What a day.”

Mark nodded, then smiled. “I have one more idea to top it off. Let’s FaceTime Allan and Sally. See if we can catch our boy.”

Kimmy’s face lit up. “Oh, perfect! Let me get out of these clothes first, okay?”

Mark changed into his gray Panthers short-sleeve hoodie and sweats. Kimmy emerged from the bathroom in his shirt, the hem brushing her thighs. They sat close together on the bed, shoulders touching, and Mark tapped the screen.

Allan’s face appeared on the second ring. “DUDE! How’s Egypt?”

“It’s amazing,” Mark said, grinning. “How are you guys?”

Allan waved at Kimmy. “Hey! Sal—come here. It’s Mark and Kimmy. Bring the little man!”

A moment later Sally appeared, guiding Brad’s wobbly steps as he toddled toward the phone. His face lit up. “Momma! Momma!” He grabbed a plastic cup and held it up proudly. “Momma… CUP!” Then he banged it on the table. “Cup, cup!”

Kimmy laughed softly. “Yes, honey, that’s right. That’s a cup.”

Mark leaned in. “Hey, buddy! How’s my little boy?”

Brad froze mid-bang. “DADDY!” He lifted the cup again. “Daddy—CUP CUP!” and resumed his enthusiastic percussion.

Kimmy glanced at Mark, her eyes shining. “He’s so precious,” she whispered.

Suddenly Brad dropped the cup, looked at the screen, and announced, “Bye-bye.” Then he dropped to all fours and took off across the floor at top speed.

Everyone burst out laughing. Allan shook his head as Sally hurried after him. “I guess that’s it for tonight,” he said. “You guys have fun. Everything’s going great—really. Miss you both. Can’t wait for that first Wawa and to sit on the porch and hear all the stories. See you soon.”

They waved as the screen went dark.

Kimmy snuggled into Mark’s side and sighed. “I’m glad we’re so busy and seeing so much. I think I’d miss him a lot more if I were just sitting around.”

Mark rubbed her back slowly. “Yeah. And I think it’s the same for both of us. He’s still there… right in the background of everything.”

She looked up at him, and the look said it all—love, longing, and that quiet ache that comes with being both a woman deeply in love and a mom missing her boy.

“Turn on a show, baby,” she said softly. “Let’s call it a day.”

Mark picked up the remote and scrolled. “Do any of these look good to you, honey… baby?”

She was already asleep.

Her hand rested over his heart, fingers curled against the Panthers crest. Mark turned off the TV, then the light. Outside, the Nile lapped gently against the hull, a slow, ancient rhythm. He let it carry him into sleep, dreaming of pharaohs and boy kings—and of a one-year-old, somewhere far away, happily banging his cup on a table.

Maybe I’m Amazed:  Day 5 – Sailing The Nile & Dendara

Part 1:  A dream is a wish your heart makes

Kimmy felt the sun before she opened her eyes.

“Morning, baby,” she murmured, one eye fluttering open as she shifted closer to Mark. He wasn’t looking at her. He was sitting up slightly, utterly still, staring toward the window as if afraid the view might disappear if he blinked.

“What, honey?” she asked, waking more fully.

He spoke in a whisper, like he didn’t want to disturb the moment. “You can keep sleeping. It’s early… but over on the horizon—they just lifted off.”

Kimmy pushed herself up on one elbow and followed his gaze. Against the pale morning sky, a dozen—maybe more—hot-air balloons drifted upward, their colors soft and surreal in the first light: reds, yellows, blues, floating like slow, quiet thoughts above the river.

“Oooooh,” she breathed, the sound more sigh than word.

Mark’s hand came up automatically, smoothing her hair, guiding her gently back against him. She settled into his lap, warm and sleepy, and he wrapped his arms around her like he was afraid she might float away too.

“Did you know Larry and Lisa are up there?” he said softly.

Her eyes opened again. “Seriously? What time did they have to—”

“Four a.m.,” Mark said with a quiet chuckle. “First, as amazing as I’m sure that ride is, you’d never catch me up there. And second—getting up that early?”

Kimmy smiled and sighed, her hand circling his chest before lightly clutching his shirt. “It would be cool. But I’ll take my morning spot any day.” Her breathing slowed again, content, as the balloons drifted higher.

Later, as breakfast plates were being set in front of them, Larry and Lisa walked into the dining room, looking both energized and a little stunned.

Kimmy grinned. “So… how was it?”

Lisa pressed her hands to her cheeks. “Just… so quiet. And breathtaking.”

Larry nodded, reaching for his napkin. “Yeah—coffee, please. Have you ever seen drone videos over the Valley of the Kings?” Mark nodded. “It was like being in the drone. And the silence… that was the best part. Just floating.”

They talked through breakfast about the view, the light, the way the river looked from above. When Mark finished his coffee, he glanced out the window and his face changed.

“Oh—look,” he said, almost boyishly. “We’re sailing.”

Kimmy took his hand. “Let’s go up top. Come on.”

They climbed the two levels to the sun deck and stepped into warm, golden light. The Nile slid past them in a slow, steady rhythm. The breeze off the water felt like a soft blanket, and every so often a nearby fan swept a cool mist across the deck, a brief, refreshing interruption to the Egyptian heat.

Mark stood behind Kimmy, arms around her waist, pulling her close. She leaned back into him, resting her head against his chest.

“Is it as good as you imagined, honey?” she asked.

He kissed her auburn hair. “Oh… so much better.”

She squeezed his hands. “Want to tell me why?”

He was quiet for a moment, eyes tracing the riverbanks, the palms, the distant shapes of villages and fields. “Decades ago—sitting in that choir room, later in the theater—the image of sailing the Nile was always there. Kind of foggy. Like a half-formed dream. But never, in any version of that dream, did I imagine I’d be here like this… with my arms around the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Kimmy felt her chest rise with a deep, full breath.

“Can I tell you something about my Nile experience?” she asked.

“Always,” he said.

She smiled. “First—without getting too Hallmarky—yes, pun intended—when you catch me off guard saying romantic things, my heart practically explodes. But even when I know it’s coming… it’s still just as much. I can never get over how lucky we are.” She glanced back at the river, then up at him. “But here on the Nile… I never would’ve imagined seeing this until I met you. And then, knowing this was your dream, I thought maybe someday. And now…” She gestured softly. “There’s the Nile. There you are. And it’s a dream come true just to see you this happy.”

Mark turned her around and kissed her—slow, tender, grateful—then led her to two rocking chairs. She pulled hers close so their arms touched and looped her arm through his as they rocked gently with the motion of the ship.

“There,” he said, pointing toward the hazy line of mountains on the horizon. “See that? Know what that is?”

She shook her head. “No. But I’m guessing it’s important.”

“The Valley of the Kings. We’ll be there tomorrow. King Tut’s tomb… and all the others.”

Kimmy watched his face as he said it, the wonder still alive there, and thought, Dreams do come true… and I get to share his with him. Her heart skipped.

Then a different thought surfaced.

“Baby?” she said carefully. “Do we… like… actually go into the tombs? Aren’t they… underground? Like… way underground?”

His grin was immediate and unmistakable. “Oh yes. We descend into the afterworld, through centuries of time, and meet King Tut face to face… along with his fellow pharaohs.” He punctuated it with a dramatic finger to the sky.

She laughed, then hesitated. “But… how deep is ‘deep’?”

He patted her hand. “Pretty deep. But it’s well lit, the air’s clean, and I’ll be right there—holding your hand. Your personal escort. Fun, right?”

She took a breath, then lifted his hand and kissed it softly. “I can’t imagine… but I’ll follow you anywhere.”

The Nile carried them onward, the ship rocking gently, the river unfolding like a long, ancient story beneath them—two hearts leaning into a dream that was finally, impossibly, real.

Part 2: Blue Skies – Dendara

As the Viking bus rolled to a stop in the dusty parking lot near the Temple of Dendara, Dr. Hani was already gesturing out the window.

“You see, my friends—look around you. As far as the eye can see: sand and mountains.”

Heads turned to both sides of the bus. The landscape felt stark, sun-bleached, almost empty.

“But in ancient times,” he continued, “the Nile flowed very close to here, and the Egyptians built a canal that led almost to the first pylon.” He pointed with his lollipop toward the distant gateway.

Kimmy’s breath caught. “Oh wow… can you even imagine?”

Mark shook his head slowly, trying to overlay green fields and water onto the dry, shimmering earth. He couldn’t—and that made it all the more astonishing.

“Come, my friends,” Dr. Hani said. “Let us explore this magnificent temple together. What lies inside is truly a wonder—especially today. Please, take a bottle of water. It is very hot this afternoon.”

As Mark and Kimmy stepped off the bus, Lisa said, “That was kind of cool—the way people lined the streets. And the police escort, right?”

Kimmy nodded. “It felt like being in a parade. Did you notice how the side streets were blocked off so we could pass straight through?”

The two women laughed as they walked ahead, while Mark and Larry followed, already lifting cameras and squinting into the sun.

They passed through the first massive gate, and Mark immediately tilted his camera upward. “Look, baby,” he said, pointing. “The hieroglyphics up there—they look like they were painted yesterday.”

Kimmy’s eyes widened as she followed his gaze. The colors—still there after thousands of years—felt almost impossible.  They crossed the open courtyard and gathered in a loose semicircle around Dr. Hani near the front of the temple.

“Please turn your attention, my friends, to the carvings of the goddess Hathor, for whom this temple is dedicated. What do you notice?”

Someone hesitated. “Her… ears? They look kind of… different?”

Dr. Hani smiled. “Yes. Hathor was often portrayed as a woman who was part cow. In Egyptian mythology, she was the goddess of maternity.”

He gestured toward the shadowed interior. “Now imagine this: for centuries after the decline of ancient Egypt, these temples were used as homes. Farmers lived here. They cooked here. They slept here. And until just last year—yes, my friends, just last year—the walls you are about to see were covered in layers upon layers of black soot. Millennia of it. The carvings were barely visible.”

No one moved. Every eye fixed on the dark opening behind him.

“But today,” he said, his voice lifting, “today you will see Dendara as the ancients intended it—in color, in splendor, in light. Come with me.”

They stepped inside.

As their eyes adjusted, blue exploded across the ceiling and walls—deep, luminous, impossibly rich. Golds and reds and greens followed, crisp and alive.

Mark immediately began taking photos. “Wow… oh look… oh wow…” he kept murmuring, almost under his breath.

Kimmy slipped her arm through his and walked close beside him to one of the towering pillars. “Look at the cartouche,” she said, a little proudly, pleased she remembered the word.

Mark smiled. “Yes—a cartouche. You’re an excellent student, baby. Look at the gold, the red… and that blue. It’s like it was finished last week.”

She beamed, not just at the colors, but at him.

Dr. Hani led them to one wall and raised his lollipop. “Here we see Egyptian mythology in all its grandeur. Follow along…”

He pointed to a figure of a woman swallowing a large disk. “Here, the goddess swallows the sun at night.” Then he traced along the wall, where a deep blue field was scattered with dozens of identical yellow stars.

Mark snapped another photo and whispered, “Look at the stars—they’re all exactly the same shape and size. Perfectly repeated. Wow.”

Kimmy barely breathed as she took it in.

“And here,” Dr. Hani continued, “the goddess gives birth to the sun, and a new day is born.”

Lisa gasped softly. Larry shook his head, lifting his camera again. Kimmy squeezed Mark’s arm, both of them caught in the same stunned silence.

Then Dr. Hani led them around a corner into a small open area and stopped.

“Now, my friends,” he said, lowering his voice just a touch, “a special surprise—one you can only experience at this temple. Only this one, in all of Egypt.”

Everyone leaned in.

He stepped back and pointed. “Behold—the hidden passage of the priests, leading to the roof of the temple. We shall walk in their footsteps, on the original stone steps, just as they did thousands of years ago. Admire the hieroglyphics… and please, watch your step.”

Kimmy turned to Mark, eyes wide. “Oh my God… did you know this was here?”

He shook his head, grinning like a kid. “No clue. Just… wow.”

They climbed in single file, the staircase turning sharply every ten or twelve steps, the walls close, the carvings right there at shoulder height. Kimmy kept glancing at Mark’s face, and somehow, impossibly, his wonder kept growing with every turn.

He imagined solemn processions of priests climbing these same steps, their sandals whispering against stone.

Then suddenly—light.

The sun hit their faces, heat wrapping around them like a blanket as they stepped onto the roof. Dr. Hani explained the ceremonies that once took place here, and everyone peered over the edge, trying to picture what this view must have been like thousands of years ago.

They crossed to the other side and entered a small, stuffy chamber where the group barely fit.

“Here,” Dr. Hani said, pointing, “you see the legend of Isis and Osiris. Osiris is murdered by his brother Set, out of jealousy. And here…” He gestured across the wall. “…Isis brings him back to life. If you read the full story, the similarities to later religious narratives are quite striking.”

Kimmy looked at Mark, who just shook his head in quiet amazement and squeezed her hand.

They descended a straight staircase and emerged back into the courtyard.

“You have fifteen minutes,” Dr. Hani announced. “Please be prompt. And for those interested, on the side of the temple you will find the only known carving of Queen Cleopatra and her son, Caesarion.”

Mark and Kimmy headed that way, Lisa and Larry following.

Mark stopped and looked up. “Larry, would you take our picture? I want one with the two most important women in the world.”

Kimmy felt that familiar warm glow as they stepped into place. When Larry raised the camera, she wrapped her arms around Mark. He slipped an arm around her shoulders, smiling with quiet pride as Cleopatra gazed down from the wall above them.

The sun was fierce, but Mark felt a faint breeze brush his face—and in his imagination, just for a moment, it felt as if Cleopatra herself were whispering, She is indeed the new beauty of the Nile.

Part 3:  Protect My Heart

Sofia cleared the lunch plates with her usual bright efficiency and set small dessert menus in front of Mark and Kimmy. Larry and Lisa waved a hand, already smiling.  “We’re good,” Lisa said. “We’re officially full.”

Mark, however, was already studying the menu like it contained sacred text. Sofia noticed immediately.

“Something sweet catch your attention, Mr. Love?” she asked, her eyes dancing.

Kimmy laughed. “I don’t think it’s something… I think it’s which thing. What will you have, baby?”

Mark tilted the menu toward Sofia, and she leaned in a little closer. “This,” he said decisively. “The hot fudge sundae.”

Sofia’s face lit up. “My favorite.” She raised her device to enter it, then paused as Mark lifted a finger.

“But…” he said carefully, “does it come with whipped cream?”

Kimmy chuckled. Larry and Lisa exchanged amused looks. Sofia gave him a knowing smile.

“Oh, Mr. Love, it most certainly can come with whipped cream. And I assume…”

Mark grinned. “You know me too well already Sofia. Yes—could it come with extra whipped cream, please?”

Sofia laughed and nodded, tapping it in. Larry shook his head, laughing out loud. “I love how serious this is for you.”

Mark raised his palms. “I don’t understand what’s funny. This is an important decision.”

Kimmy squeezed his arm and kissed his cheek. “Sweets for the sweet, baby.”

A few minutes later, Sofia returned, proudly carrying the dessert—whipped cream piled high like a small, snowy mountain. She set it down, then hesitated, smiling.

“I must tell you,” she said warmly, “when I asked the chef for extra whipped cream, he looked at me and said, ‘Is this for the same guest who wanted extra icing?’ And the whole kitchen had a good laugh.”

Mark’s eyes lit up. He immediately pulled out his phone. “Kimmy—document this dessert for history.”

Sofia leaned in, smiling, as Kimmy snapped the photo. Larry leaned over. “Are there extra spoons for sharing?”

Mark raised his own spoon protectively. “Sorry. This is a one-man show. But I’m sure Sofia can get you your own—with normal amounts of whipped cream. This,” he gestured proudly, “is a special order.”

Sofia laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Later, back in the cool air of their stateroom, Kimmy said lightly, “I think I’d like to explore the shops before we depart. Want to come?”

Mark looked up—and something in his expression made her pause.

“No, honey,” he said, firmly but quietly. “We’re not doing that.”

She frowned. “Okay…” Then, a little more slowly, “You don’t have to come, but I think I will for just a bit. I’ll be back in—”

She stopped short when she felt his hand close around her arm—not rough, but unmistakably serious.

“What are you doing?” she asked, a little edge in her voice. “I don’t need you with me every minute.”

Mark didn’t argue. He gently guided her into the bathroom and stood with her in front of the mirror. The light was softer there. More intimate. Kimmy could see the concern in his eyes now, and it made her uneasy.

“Look,” he said quietly. “What do you see?”

She searched their reflections. “Us. Just us, honey. Mark… what’s happening?” A small knot of anxiety began to tighten in her chest.

His voice softened. He placed his hands on her shoulders. “No… look again. Step outside of ‘us’ for a second. Tell me what you see.”

She shook her head, confused.

“Here,” he said gently, pointing to their reflections. “In a third-world country. In a remote place. There’s a beautiful woman walking alone, surrounded by strangers.”

She started to protest, but he continued, just as gently. “Did you notice the police escort today?”

She nodded. “Yes… it felt like we were celebrities.”

He shook his head. “No, baby. They were protecting us. The streets were blocked at every intersection for our safety.”

Her eyes widened. “What… what do you mean?”

“Have you noticed the man who sits across the aisle from Dr. Hani every day? The one in the navy sport coat?”

She nodded slowly. “Yes. There were two of them today.”

“Did you notice what’s under his coat?”

She shook her head.

He leaned in, his voice low. “He carries a gun.”

Her breath caught. “What? Oh… oh no…”

Mark turned her fully toward him. “We’re safe when we’re with the group. We’re protected. But I can’t let you walk out there alone. If you want to go, I’ll take you. But by yourself…” His voice faltered just a little. His eyes shone. “I can’t risk that.”

Kimmy’s heart shifted in her chest. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.

“No,” she said softly. “I didn’t realize. You’re always protecting me… and I love you for that. I’m good. I’ll stay with you. Always.”

He held her for a long moment, his chin resting against her hair.

That afternoon, the Viking Osiris eased away from the dock and began her slow, graceful journey back toward Luxor. The Nile opened before them, wide and patient, and somewhere ahead, beyond the bend of the river, the tombs of the pharaohs seemed to whisper on the wind:

We’re waiting for you.

Day 6: Luxor Tombs – She’s a Mystery to Me

Part 1 – The Valley of the Kings

“Baby?” came the soft whisper, and Mark smiled before he even opened his eyes, a half-formed memory of Kimmy on a terrace somewhere drifting through his sleep. Then, a little louder, warmer, closer, “Baby… honey… are you awake?”

He opened one eye and was greeted by early morning sunlight dancing in Kimmy’s bright eyes. She was propped up on one elbow, her chin resting on his chest, one hand lightly clutching his shirt as if to make sure he didn’t drift away again.

“Oh hi, baby,” she said softly, smiling like she’d been awake for a while. “You’re awake!”

Mark returned a sleepy grin. “Barely. What are you doing up so early?”

Kimmy lifted her phone, the screen glowing with a list of messages. At the top was a notification from Sally. “We got a video,” she said, her voice full of quiet excitement. “I didn’t want to watch it without you.”

Mark felt a little rush in his chest. “Everything okay?”

She nodded quickly, already scooting closer. “I think so. I just… we share, right?”

He slid an arm around her and she curled into him, fitting there like she always did. “Always,” he said. “Play it.”

The screen filled with Brad’s face, round and bright, sitting on Sally’s lap. Sally’s voice came from behind the camera. “Now who’s this, Brad?” She swiped to a photo of Kimmy on their porch.

Brad’s arms went up immediately. “Momma! Momma! Hi Momma!” he shouted, bouncing a little with excitement.

Mark heard Kimmy’s breath catch before he felt it. When he looked down, her eyes were shining, but her smile was huge. She whispered, barely moving her lips, “Hi, honey.”

Sally swiped again. “And who’s this?”

A picture of Mark and Allan filled the screen.

“Daddy! Lan! Hi Daddy!” Brad said proudly. Then he turned toward the camera, pointed, and announced, “Look, Lan… Daddy!” and pointed back to the phone.

Mark felt his throat tighten.

The image wobbled as Brad slid off Sally’s lap and took off across the floor on all fours. Sally laughed. “Just wanted you guys to know he hasn’t forgotten you. He’s doing great. Have fun. Bye for now.”

The screen froze on her smile.

For a long moment, neither Mark nor Kimmy spoke. The room was quiet except for the distant sounds of the ship and the soft hum of morning. Kimmy’s hand tightened in his shirt.

“That’s our boy,” Mark said quietly.

Kimmy nodded, pressing closer, her head resting over his heart.

They stayed that way as the sun climbed higher, filling the stateroom with warm gold light that felt almost gentle, like the day itself was trying not to rush them.

---

The Viking bus rumbled to a stop in a haze of dust and heat, and Dr. Hani’s voice came smoothly through the microphone.

“Today will be a day of wonder, my friends. Today,” he paused just long enough for everyone to lean in a little, “you come face to face with the boy king… King Tutankhamen.”

“Unbelievable,” Mark breathed.

Kimmy turned and smiled at him, watching that familiar look of awe take over his face.

As they stepped off the bus, the sun was already high and bright, the air dry and warm against their skin. The distant mountains looked close enough to touch, though Mark knew better now.

“I never would have thought it would take us an hour to get here,” Lisa said, shading her eyes. “You could see the mountains from the ship.”

Larry grinned and offered Mark a high five. “But all worth it for what we’ll see today, right, buddy?”

Mark slapped his hand, his excitement impossible to hide. “We’re going to see things today I’ve only dreamed about for forty years. It’s one thing to see artifacts in a museum… but to be in the tombs? Underground? This is—” He shook his head, smiling. “Ready, honey?”

Kimmy gave him a brave little smile. “How far down will we go?”

He slipped an arm around her shoulders. “I’ve got you. And it won’t be like Saqqara. Well-lit, handrails, plenty of space. You’ll be fine. Promise.”

Dr. Hani organized them into small groups and waved over the golf carts. Soon Mark, Kimmy, Larry, and Lisa were bouncing gently along dusty paths into the Valley, the wind warm on their faces, the ancient cliffs rising around them like silent sentinels.

They were dropped off in an open area where the air shimmered with heat. Dust swirled lazily around their ankles as the group gathered again.

“First,” Dr. Hani said, “we will visit King Tut together. Then you will have two hours to explore. Your tickets allow entry into any three other tombs.”

He gestured around them. “I recommend Ramses II there,” he said, pointing. “The hieroglyphics are exceptional. Farther over there,” he added, indicating other entrances, “are older tombs. Much deeper.”

Mark felt Kimmy’s hand tighten on his arm.

“We’re not doing those,” he said softly, leaning in.

Her shoulders relaxed immediately. She smiled at him, grateful.

“Come, my friends,” Dr. Hani said. “The boy king awaits.”

They joined the slow-moving line of tourists. Mark glanced around and chuckled. “I don’t know why, but I never imagined we’d wait in line.”

Larry leaned in from behind. “Did you think they’d just let you walk in?”

Mark laughed. “Honestly? Yeah.”

They all laughed together as the famous steps appeared ahead, descending into the earth.

Mark took Kimmy’s hand. “See? Wide steps, handrail, good lighting. All good.”

They descended slowly, the air growing still and warm, the noise of the outside world fading behind them. The passage narrowed, and then suddenly they were inside the burial chamber.

The walls seemed to glow with color and story. The massive stone coffin sat before them, heavy with history. Lisa and Kimmy both gasped.

Mark was already taking photos, his voice hushed but electric. “Right here… King Tut’s tomb… wow.”

They reached the railing and stood just feet away.

“Can you even imagine?” Larry murmured.

Mark could almost see it—Carter, the first light, the dust, the moment history cracked open.

Kimmy wasn’t looking at the walls.

She was looking at him.

Lisa touched her arm and whispered, smiling, “He’s really in his element, isn’t he?”

Kimmy nodded. “He’s talked about this for so long. To see him here… it’s just the best.”

She rubbed Mark’s back gently. He turned, eyes shining. “Can you believe this?”

They moved with the flow of the crowd and entered the adjoining chamber.

Kimmy stopped short, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh!”

Inside a glass case lay the perfectly preserved body of the boy king.

Mark stepped closer, almost reverently. “Hello,” he said softly. “I’ve waited a long time to meet you.”

They stood there in quiet awe.

“Look,” Kimmy whispered. “You can see his toenails.”

Mark squeezed her hand. “This is just… wow.”

Soon the press of people guided them back into the sunlight.

Mark took a deep breath. “Just… oh my. Right?”

Kimmy smiled. “Was it what you hoped?”

“Better,” he said simply. “We were in his tomb. You. Me. Us. That was epic.”

She kissed his cheek.

Lisa and Larry exchanged glances then Lisa said, “What are you guys thinking?  We thought we’d go into one of the really deep tombs, wanna come?”

Mark felt the grip and he smiled, “No thanks, I want to see the hieroglyphics in the Ramses II tomb, you ok with that baby?” and Kimmy nodded.  Larry clapped Mark on the back and said, “OK, we’ll see you in an hour or so….we’re going to get the galabeyas here at the market for Egyptian night on board, right?”  Mark nodded and looked at his watch.  “It’s a little after eleven, we have to be back on the bus by 12:30….so let’s say 11:45 to noon, in front of the shops?”  Lisa looked at her watch, “We’ll meet you there!” and they headed off down the dusty path.

Kimmy pulled Mark around and put her arms around his neck, leaned in and said softly, “Thank you.”  Mark touched her forehead with his and then leaned back, “Sure….but for what honey?”  Kimmy leaned into him.  “First, yesterday….protecting me from going out – I was so stupid.”  Mark squeezed her shoulders, “You just didn’t know honey, you are NOT stupid and if anyone ever calls you….wham, right to the moon!” and he pumped his fist in the air.  Kimmy chuckled, “Ok, my hero….but seriously, thanks for that.  But today….I’m sorry I’m such a scaredy-cat about going under ground, but it just gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

Mark smiled and said, “We’re here….together.  It wouldn’t be nearly as amazing if I were here alone, you know that right?”  Kimmy smiled and nodded.  “And,” Mark continued, “I’m ok without going off to those tombs.  I really DO think that this one of Ramses II will be cool.  Come on, let’s do it.”

They parted ways and soon Mark and Kimmy were descending a long, gently sloping passage, walls covered in hieroglyphics that seemed to go on forever. The burial chamber opened wide, the ceiling soaring above them.

Kimmy turned slowly, taking it all in. “They look… new. Like they were painted yesterday.”

“And the stars,” Mark said, pointing up. “Just like Dendara. Every one perfect.”

After catching a golf cart ride back Mark and Kimmy stood outside the market shops waiting for Lisa and Larry.  Within minutes they were there.  “Ready for this?” Mark asked, and Larry nodded, “It’s been so hard to resist them at every turn, but today some merchant finally gets to make a sale” and the four laughed.  They strolled through the endless line of shops with everything imaginable for sale.  But after a short time they came to one which had dozens and dozens of the colorful Egyptian traditional robes hanging.  Kimmy paused and said, “Here!” and Lisa nodded, saying, “Yes, this is the one.”  Immediately a vendor came to them and began showing them options.  Lisa and Larry went into the back of the store with a woman while Mark and Kimmy stayed with the original vendor.  “And what for the gentleman and his pretty lady, what about this madame?” and he held up a white galabeya, covered with small, pale blue flowers.  Unlike many of the robes this one had an open neckline rather than one closed around the upper neck.  Mark smiled, “Yes baby, that has your name written on it.”  Kimmy smiled and thought, “he will like me in this” as she could picture her Osiris necklace hanging over her neck framed in the cut of the galabeya.  “Do you have a men’s robe that is this color?” she asked pointing to the flower.  “Oh yes mum, come this way…please, right this way.”  He took them to another display and pulled one from the top with a long pole.  “Perfect!” Mark said as he looked at the pale blue galabeya with thin white stripes.  He held it up to Kimmy’s and the blues were a match.  Kimmy beamed, “We’ll take them!”  As the bus pulled away Lisa looked over her shoulder and said, “Lunch when we get back….our table by the window?”  Kimmy nodded.  “Yes….I’m hungry.  We will only have about an hour before they are bringing us back to the Valley of the Queens, right honey?”  Mark nodded but didn’t look up as he scrolled through his endless photos on his phone.  Kimmy smiled and nodded her head towards Mark and Lisa smiled then gave her a thumbs up.

Day 6: Luxor Tombs – She’s a Mystery to Me

Part 2 – The Valley of the Queens

The dining room of the Viking Osiris was electric with the buzz of conversation, the kind that only follows a morning where everyone has seen something they’ll be talking about for the rest of their lives. Voices overlapped, hands gestured, phones were passed back and forth with delighted “Look at this one!” and “Did you get that angle?”

Soon the soft chime sounded and Dr. Hani’s warm voice came over the speakers.

“Valued guests… a memorable afternoon awaits with a special experience provided for you by Viking Cruises. Please make your way to the three buses outside for our excursion to the Valley of the Queens. We depart in fifteen minutes.”

Lisa and Larry were waiting at the end of the gangway when Mark and Kimmy stepped off the ship. Larry grinned. “Do you have any idea what the special thing is, Mark?”

Mark shook his head. “I know there are several tombs where we’re going,” and he glanced at Kimmy’s anxious eyes, softening his tone, “…none of them very deep, as I understand it.”

Kimmy’s shoulders relaxed a little.

Lisa said, “Is it true the one with that Queen… Huff… something… is actually carved into the mountain?”

Kimmy looked at Mark. “What?”

He nodded. “Hatshepsut. I’ve seen some pictures and that’s what I’ve read. Pretty remarkable, right?”

An hour later, as the bus rolled to a stop in the shimmering heat, Dr. Hani stood at the front. “Please, my friends, take at least one bottle of water—if not two. It is quite hot today, and we will be outside for more than an hour.”

Mark followed Kimmy, who was behind Lisa and Larry. At the front of the bus Kimmy reached in and grabbed three bottles. “One each and one to share… okay, baby?”

Mark patted her shoulder. “Perfect.”

Everyone gathered in a loose semicircle around Dr. Hani as he waved his familiar lollipop and began weaving history and mythology together, his voice steady and practiced, yet still full of quiet pride.

“And now,” he concluded, smiling, “on to the tomb of Queen Nefertari.”

As they followed him, his voice flowed through the quiet boxes. “Queen Nefertari was the favorite wife of Pharaoh Ramses II and was known for her beauty and her skill in diplomatic matters.”

Kimmy leaned into Mark and whispered, “He’s the one we visited his tomb today, right, honey?”

Mark smiled, nodded, and patted her arm. “You get an A+ today, baby.”

Kimmy beamed, a warm little spark lighting in her chest. And that, she thought, is why I’m now his favorite student.

Dr. Hani continued, “Her name means ‘the most beautiful one.’ She bore Ramses II at least four sons that we know of—and two daughters.”

He stopped at a shaded patio with tables and chairs. “Please sit for a moment while I get the tickets.”

Mark and Kimmy sat with Larry and Lisa, all four taking long, grateful drinks of water. Lisa said, “So this is Queen Nefer-TAR-i—not Nefertiti, the one with the famous bust, right?”

Kimmy turned to Mark. “Oh… I thought it was just how Dr. Hani was pronouncing it. They’re two different women, honey?”

Mark set his bottle down, slipping comfortably into teacher mode. “Yes. Nefertari wasn’t of royal blood, but she was exceptionally well educated for her time—she could read and write. And this tomb is famous for its paintings. If I remember right, she was also known for her elaborate wardrobes.”

Dr. Hani returned and began passing out tickets. When he finished, he held one up. “This tomb was discovered in 1904. And it is the most elaborately decorated of any tomb in either the Valley of the Kings or the Valley of the Queens.”

A soft chorus of “Wow” and “Oh my” rippled through the group.

“And,” he continued, lifting the ticket a little higher, “to preserve the interior, no one was permitted to enter for one hundred years.”

Several quiet gasps followed.

“And only one hundred and fifty people are permitted inside each day. Members of your Viking Osiris team were here early this morning securing your tickets.”

Applause broke out. Larry leaned in. “Aren’t there nearly seventy-five of us on board?”

Mark nodded. “Exactly. That’s such a Viking thing to do.”

Kimmy squeezed his arm. “We love Viking, don’t we, baby?”

He smiled. “We really do.”

Dr. Hani checked his watch. “Come—it is our turn.”

The opening in the ground revealed a short flight of steps into shadow. Kimmy squeezed Mark’s hand and clutched his arm. “We’ll go slow, baby,” he whispered.

At the bottom, the passage widened into a gently sloping, well-lit corridor. The walls bloomed with color—reds, golds, blues—scenes of the queen’s life unfolding like a painted storybook. At the end, a few steps led into a large rectangular chamber with a polished wooden floor.

Kimmy’s breath caught. “Oh… wow.”

Mark smiled softly. “Truly stunning. So, so much better than pictures. Come on.”

They wandered slowly, every wall alive with images of Nefertari in different gowns, different poses, different moments. Mark leaned in and whispered, “I think she has more dresses than even you do, honey.”

Kimmy giggled, and a few nearby guests smiled. “I do not have that many dresses!”

Mark kissed her cheek. “But you look stunning in all of them. Your pictures could fill these walls, and people would pay to come see them.”

She blushed, her heart doing that familiar, traitorous little flutter. He really does love me, she thought. Why does that always get me so?

Mark glanced at his phone and chuckled. “What?” Kimmy asked.

“I’ve taken over fifty pictures since we got off the bus.”

She laughed. “It’s going to be a long evening of downloading and posting tonight.”

Larry and Lisa came over. “Want a picture in here? We’ll take yours, you take ours.”

They traded places, posing beneath three thousand years of color and history, until Dr. Hani’s voice gently reminded them, “Five more minutes, my friends.”

The bus buzzed with happy, breathless chatter as they pulled away.

“It’s a short ride to Queen Hatshepsut’s temple,” Dr. Hani said. “Different from what you just saw—but remarkable in its own right.”

They gathered at the base of a long walkway. He pointed ahead. “It was here that Queen Hatshepsut said, ‘Build me a tomb in the mountain.’ And behold.”

The sun was relentless as they walked the long stretch to the steps. By the time they reached the top, Mark’s breathing was heavy. Kimmy took his hand and guided him into the shade. “Sit here, honey.”

“I’m okay,” he said, though his chest felt tight.

“Baby… are you…?” Her eyes filled as she sat beside him, holding his arm.

He slowed his breathing. “Just the steps… and the heat. I’m okay. I promise.”

“Tell me the truth,” she whispered. “You promised.”

He smiled, and she saw the light come back into his eyes. “All good. Let’s look around—slowly, okay?”

They wandered in the shade, marveling at the scale of it all. Mark shook his head. “I can’t imagine being an architect… being told to build something like this… or else.”

He made a slicing motion across his throat.

Kimmy laughed softly. “Well, I think you understand what it means when your queen asks something of you.”

Mark bowed with exaggerated flair. “Your every wish is my command, my queen.”

They both laughed, and hand in hand, headed back toward the bus.

Part 3 – Egyptian Night

Kimmy slept quietly, her head on Mark’s chest as he half-watched an episode on Viking TV about ocean itineraries. He’d been careful not to move, keeping the volume low, barely daring to shift his weight. Truthfully, he’d spent at least half the program’s air time not watching the screen at all, but looking down at his wife—at the slow rise and fall of her breathing, the soft curve of her cheek, the way her auburn hair spilled across his arm. Every few minutes his fingers found their way back into her hair, tracing slow, gentle lines as if he could memorize the moment.

His phone buzzed.

He glanced down and saw Sally’s name light up the screen. He let it ring once more, then gently shook Kimmy’s shoulder. “Baby… honey… Sally’s FaceTiming us.”

Kimmy’s eyes fluttered open, still heavy with sleep, but she smiled immediately. “Is it our little boy?”

Mark tapped ACCEPT, and Sally’s face appeared, sitting on their sofa with Brad on her lap. He was clutching his clown blanket, looking slightly puzzled—until he recognized the faces on the screen. His eyes lit up like someone had flipped a switch.

“Daddy! Daddy… we go bye-bye ’day!”

Mark grinned, and Kimmy lifted her head, her whole face softening. “Hi, honey. Momma loves you!”

Brad beamed and blew exaggerated kisses at the screen. “Momma… what! Go bye-bye, Unca Lan and An Sawee!”

Mark glanced at Kimmy and they exchanged that look—the one that said we’re both thinking the same thing—and then he said, “You did, buddy. You went bye-bye with Uncle Allan and Aunt Sally. That had to be fun.”

Brad nodded enthusiastically, waving his blanket like a flag. “Fun, Daddy. Fun.”

He looked around, spotted Allan approaching, and suddenly pointed at the phone. “Lan… Momma… Daddy!”

Allan leaned into view, smiling. “Hey there, kids. How’s Egypt going? Is it as amazing as it looks?”

Kimmy’s face lit up. “You wouldn’t believe today. We were in King Tut’s tomb. And then we went way underground into two more. Just… stunning. And Mark is so, so happy.” She looked up at Mark with that proud, glowing smile that always undid him.

Allan lifted his hand for a virtual high five. “As good as you hoped, Dude?”

Mark nodded. “Even better. So cool.”

Brad started tugging on Sally’s sleeve. “An Sawee… Brad down… down…”

Sally laughed and set him on the floor. He took off immediately, heading for the hallway at full toddler speed.

“Well,” she said over her shoulder, “guess that’s it from your son. You guys have fun. Brad—Brad, honey, slow down!”

She disappeared after him, still laughing. Allan waved. “We’ll talk to you guys later. It’s all good here. See ya.”

The screen went blank.

Kimmy settled back onto Mark’s lap with a sleepy sigh. “Did I sleep, baby? I think I did.”

“You were out,” Mark said, rubbing her back. “I’m glad you got a good nap. And I had such a good afternoon.”

She lifted her head, curious. “What did you do all afternoon?”

His face softened into that quiet, honest smile. “I watched you sleep. Stroked your hair. Rubbed your back. It was the most awesome afternoon.”

Kimmy’s eyes shone. She didn’t need to say anything. Mark could feel it in the way she relaxed against him, in the way her hand found his chest again like that was exactly where it belonged.

Later, Mark was smoothing his galabeya and checking himself in the mirror. He grinned at his reflection and did a little Walk Like an Egyptian shuffle—his best Steve Martin impression—when he heard her giggle behind him.

He turned, smiling. “Pretty good, right?”

Kimmy laughed out loud. She was still in her underwear, holding her galabeya on its hanger. “Yes, baby, you are an Egyptian for sure. Especially in that outfit. So cute.”

Mark sat on the edge of the bed. “When you’re ready, we can head to the lounge for a drink before the port talk, okay?”

“Just fixing my hair,” she called. “I’ll be ready.”

A moment later she came around the corner, struck a playful runway pose with her hands on her hips, and said, “Well? What do you think?”

Mark dropped to his knees and bowed with mock solemnity. “All hail the beautiful and magnificent queen.”

Kimmy giggled. “Stop. Seriously—what do you think?”

He stood and just looked at her.

The white galabeya, dotted with small, delicate blue flowers, fit her perfectly—loose enough to be comfortable, but shaped just right to show her curves. The neckline framed her Eye of Osiris necklace, daring in the softest way, drawing his attention without crossing any line. He shook his head slowly.

“I know you won’t believe me,” he said, “or you’ll think I’m just being a good husband. But I’ve never seen you look anything but beautiful. In one of your fancy dresses, in my— I mean your—shirt, or in an Egyptian galabeya.”

She walked over, put her arms around his neck, and looked up at him with that look—the one that still, after all this time, made his heart skip. He leaned in and she rose onto her toes, kissing him softly.

“You’re so sweet,” she whispered. “I love you so much.”

He sighed, smiling. “Okay… we could stay here,” he said with a crooked grin, “but we promised Larry and Lisa.”

She laughed again, and hand in hand they headed down the hallway.

“Let’s see if Dr. Hani will be in a picture with us,” Kimmy said. “Want to?”

“That’s a great idea,” Mark said, squeezing her hand.

At the port talk, slides of the next day’s options flickered across the screen. When Dr. Hani showed the Old Cataract Hotel in Aswan, Mark leaned in. “That’s where Agatha Christie wrote Death on the Nile. We’ll see that tomorrow on our felucca ride in the harbor.”

Kimmy looked around the lounge and smiled. Nearly everyone was wearing something Egyptian—robes, scarves, head coverings—leaning into the fun of the evening.

When the meeting ended, Mark touched Kimmy’s arm. “Larry, can you hold our seats? We’ll be there in a minute.”

Larry waved.

Most of the guests headed for the dining room as Mark and Kimmy approached Dr. Hani.

“Good evening, Mr. Mark and Mrs. Kimmy,” he said warmly. “Do you have a question?”

“No,” Mark said with a smile. “We have a favor to ask.”

Dr. Hani’s eyes softened. “Of course.”

“Would you mind posing for a picture with us in our galabeyas?”

His face broke into a wide grin. “It would be my pleasure. Let’s do it in the lobby.”

Downstairs, Dr. Hani called over the guest services director to take the photo. Mark stood behind Kimmy, wrapping his arms around her waist. She laid her hands over his. Dr. Hani rested a hand lightly on Kimmy’s shoulder and waved toward the camera.

“To our Nile River adventure!”

The camera clicked several times.

When the phone was handed back, Mark pulled up the picture and beamed. “It’s great, right, baby?”

Kimmy squeezed his arm.

Dr. Hani said softly, “Madam, you are indeed a beauty… and you, sir, are a very lucky man.”

Mark smiled, feeling that familiar swell in his chest. “No one is more aware of his good fortune. Who would have thought I’d be so lucky?”

The rest of the night flowed easily—stories from the day, laughter, warm conversation, the gentle hum of a ship moving through ancient waters.

And as night closed in on the Nile, the Viking Osiris glided silently onward, carrying them toward the next adventure.

Day 7: Aswan – Love Between Chapters

Part 1 – Morning Light and Terraces

The sun hadn’t quite crept over the horizon when Mark stirred, aware—before he fully woke—that Kimmy was quietly climbing out of bed. He opened one eye as the bathroom light came on, then closed it again when the door shut with that careful, considerate click she always used when she didn’t want to wake him. He tried to drift back to sleep, listening to the soft, familiar sounds—water running, a drawer opening, the whisper of fabric—until the door opened again and the light clicked off.

A moment later, warmth returned. A hand settled on his chest, light and certain, like it belonged there.

Without opening his eyes, he murmured, “I can go get us coffee. You stay here.”

He swung his legs toward the edge of the bed and then stopped.

There, on the floor at the foot of the bed, lay the shirt.

Mark turned slowly, and what he saw pulled him fully awake: Kimmy’s bright, sparkling eyes, and the early morning light falling gently along the smooth line of her back, down to her waist where the sheets lay loosely draped. The room was quiet except for the distant hush of the river and the soft hum of the ship.

She smiled—one of those smiles that was equal parts sweet and mischievous—and said, “Or… you could stay here?”

Mark blinked once, then twice, and turned back toward her. “Umm… seems you may have lost your shirt, missy.”

Kimmy giggled, a low, warm sound. “I don’t know what happened. I was coming back to bed and suddenly—” she lifted her hands in a little palms-up shrug, “—it just dropped to the floor. Go figure.”

She reached for him. He didn’t need a second invitation.

He wrapped his arms around her, and she fit into him like she always did, as if there were no other place in the world she belonged. If it had been a scene in a Hallmark movie, the orchestra would have swelled right then—strings rising, camera drifting toward the windows as the Egyptian sun finally broke free of the horizon and poured gold into the room. The light found them tangled together in the sheets, two people who had, once again, chosen each other before the day even began.

Later that morning, Group A was back on the Viking bus as it rolled slowly into a parking lot. Dr. Hani stood at the front, microphone in hand, his voice carrying that familiar blend of warmth and ceremony.

“Before we take our boat ride in the harbor, we will visit the iconic Old Cataract Hotel in Aswan,” he announced. “The hotel is known as the place where the famous mystery writer Agatha Christie penned Death on the Nile. Let’s begin our tour!”

They stepped off the bus into the growing heat, and Dr. Hani led them into the lobby. “The hotel opened in 1899,” he explained, “and was built to reflect the Victorian Age.”

Mark and Kimmy looked around, taking in the soaring ceilings, the polished floors, the quiet elegance that felt like it had been holding its breath for more than a century. They moved through the lobby and into the dining room—and Mark’s eyes widened.

Kimmy breathed, “Oh wow… look at that.”

The red and white colors seemed to glow in the light, bold and intricate. “This room,” Dr. Hani said, “was designed based on Moorish architecture, suggestive of a famous mosque and mausoleum in Cairo. But the best is yet to come… follow me.”

Kimmy leaned into Mark and whispered, “Where are we going?”

He shrugged with a grin. “All I know is that this is so, so cool.”

They climbed the stairs, and when Dr. Hani opened the doors, the terrace revealed itself—wide, elegant, overlooking the Nile as it curved and shimmered in the sun.

“This,” he announced, “was and is the place to be. Guests are known for having long-standing reservations, and it’s quite common to hear, ‘Meet you at the terrace.’”

Mark and Kimmy turned to each other at the exact same time.

“A terrace,” they said together.

Kimmy’s eyes lit up. “Oh, we have to—”

“How could we not?” Mark finished, already smiling.

He turned to Larry. “Can you take our picture? We’ll explain later, but this is so… so us.”

Lisa looked at Larry and smiled as he framed the shot. “Smile!”

He didn’t need to tell them twice. Mark and Kimmy were already beaming, their minds running through the same quiet montage—one terrace after another, one chapter after another, all the places where their story had unfolded.

Soon they were back downstairs and out in the parking lot again. Dr. Hani gestured toward the water. “Now, my friends, on to the felucca and our morning sail!”

They filed onto the boat moored at the dock, taking seats along the outer edge. The crew of three Egyptian sailors raised the sail, and the warm breeze caught the fabric instantly, filling it with a soft snap. The felucca glided forward, nearly silent, slipping into the harbor as if the river itself had decided to carry them.

The sun was warm. The air was gentle. Conversation drifted in low, contented murmurs.

“Isn’t this wonderful?” Lisa said softly.

Larry put an arm around her, and Mark took their picture. He turned the camera to show them, and Larry’s grin said everything. Then Larry took one of Mark and Kimmy and said, “Could the morning have been any better? Seeing the old hotel and having this sail?”

Kimmy squeezed Mark’s hand and looked at him. Mark saw that look on her face—the one he knew by heart. He nodded, and they shared the same quiet thought without needing to say it out loud.

Yes. It had already been an amazing morning.

Part 2: Small Towns and Small Moments

The Viking Osiris slipped along the river through the late morning light and docked in Esna just as everyone was settling into lunch. The dining room hummed with that happy, tired energy that comes after a full morning—sun-warmed faces, cameras still in hand, and conversations overlapping like waves. When Sofia came by to take their orders, Lisa leaned forward, resting her elbows lightly on the table.

“So,” she said with a grin, “what’s with the terrace story you mentioned earlier?”

Mark and Kimmy exchanged one of those looks that had become their private shorthand—half memory, half mischief. Mark tipped his head toward Kimmy. “You tell.”

Kimmy smiled, glancing down at her engagement ring, then, without quite realizing it, brushing her fingers over the diamond bracelet at her wrist. “For several years Mark and I knew each other, and we’d get together once or twice a year just to catch up. Then I moved to North Carolina and… well, life happened. Our chances to see each other got pretty rare. About five years ago I had a meeting in South Florida, and we decided to meet for dinner.”

Larry lifted a finger. “So you two knew each other long before you became a… you know… thing?”

Mark chuckled. “No clue at the time. Just really good friends.”

Kimmy patted his hand and continued. “Dinner ended, and I don’t know—something felt different. Better. And very uncharacteristic for me, I asked Mark if he’d go up to the terrace bar for one last drink.”

Lisa’s eyes widened. “Ohhh, that’s already sounding romantic.”

Mark added softly, “We still didn’t know what was happening. But the longer we talked, the more we both felt… something. Right, baby?”

Kimmy nodded. “The next morning, on the beach, Mark said he’d come visit me in North Carolina. I wasn’t sure he would.”

Larry looked at Mark. “Were you just saying that, or did you mean it?”

Mark thought for a second, then shook his head. “If you’d asked me the next morning, I probably would’ve said I wasn’t sure how serious I was. But a few weeks later—after some texts and emails—I realized I needed to get out of South Florida and see what was really there. And I can tell you this…” He glanced at Kimmy, his voice softening. “When I pulled into her driveway and she came running to me, I knew.”

Lisa’s breath caught. “You actually ran to him?”

Kimmy’s smile spread wide. “And leaped into his arms. I didn’t know if he’d really come, even when he said he was. And when I saw his car, I just… took off.”

Larry shook his head, half laughing, half in awe. “That’s the stuff movies are made of.”

Mark lifted his glass slightly. “So after that, we started a little tradition. Our favorite restaurant back home has a terrace on the fifth floor overlooking the city. Every year, on our anniversary, we go there.”

Lisa dabbed at her eyes. “Oh my… that’s so sweet I might actually cry.”

Kimmy pointed at Mark with mock accusation. “He probably won’t want me to tell you this, but every year—every year—he surprises me with something. Usually jewelry. And it makes me cry.”

Larry raised his glass toward Mark. “You make it hard on the rest of us guys, you know that?”

Mark slipped his arm around Kimmy’s shoulders. “We’ve never forgotten how close we came to not going up to that terrace.”

Lunch arrived, and the conversation drifted to travel and what was coming next. Afterward, they walked straight off the ship and into the small town. Dr. Hani narrated as they moved single file through the streets. “We bring you to Esna so you can see everyday Egypt—how people live away from the big tourist centers.”

The markets were busy but modest, the buildings worn, the colors sun-faded. Kimmy held Mark’s arm a little tighter. “You think of Egypt and you think pyramids, temples, treasures,” she said quietly. “But really, it’s people. Just people trying to make it through their day.”

Mark nodded. “Puts things in perspective, doesn’t it?”

Back on board, the staff had arranged a cocktail party for the sail back toward Aswan. Mark and Kimmy found a spot on the top deck, where the air moved just enough to take the edge off the heat. Trays of small bites drifted past, glasses clinked, and the river slid by in a wide, unhurried ribbon.

Kimmy spotted Sofia coming toward them, smiling. She set a bowl down in front of Mark—ice cream crowned with strawberries and a generous cloud of whipped cream. “A special treat for you, Mr. Mark. I thought you would enjoy this.”

Mark laughed and thanked her, and Sofia lingered a moment before moving on. He looked up at Kimmy. “Look, honey.”

Kimmy’s smile was there, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Want a bite?” he asked gently.

She shook her head and looped her arm through his. Leaning in, she said quietly, “She does know you’re married… to me, right?” There was a question in her eyes—small, vulnerable, honest.

Mark set the bowl aside and took both her hands. “Baby, I chose you. I always choose you. I will always choose only you. Only you.”

Her shoulders softened. “I know,” she whispered. “Sometimes I just… like to hear it.”

He rested his forehead against hers. “Do you know one of my favorite things about you?”

She smiled, trying to lighten the moment. “When I’m good at puzzles? Or when I remember what a cartouche is?”

He chuckled, then leaned in. “Those too. But mostly… it’s the little surprises. The way you make ordinary moments feel special.”

Kimmy blushed. “And if I happen to lose my shirt?”

He kissed her softly. “Yes. And everything like that.”

The hot Egyptian sun bathed the deck in gold as guests gathered near the fans and drifting mist. The Nile looked darker this afternoon, deeper somehow, as if holding the Viking Osiris and everyone aboard in a slow, steady embrace—carrying them forward, quietly, toward whatever wonders were still waiting.

Day 9: Aswan – Crocodile Rock (Part 1)

The breeze off the Nile was surprisingly cool as Mark, Kimmy, and the rest of Group A stepped off the gangway of the Viking Osiris and made their way down to the three smaller boats bobbing quietly at the dock. The morning light had that pale, silvery quality that made everything feel newly washed, as if the river itself had decided to offer them a gentler start to the day.

Dr. Hani placed one foot on the edge of the boat, steadied himself with a pole, and offered his hand to the guests as he spoke into his microphone. “Please take a seat along the edges. There are a few seats in the middle if you prefer.”

Mark took Kimmy’s hand and guided her down one side toward the back of the boat. “We’ll get some good shots from here,” he said quietly, holding her steady as she settled in.

The boat pushed off, the motor humming softly, and the breeze created by their movement felt almost like a gift after days of heat. Kimmy smiled and squeezed Mark’s arm. “This is so great… we are floating down the Nile. The Nile, honey.”

Mark leaned in and kissed her cheek. “You know I love you, right?”

Her face opened into a broad, unguarded grin. Just behind them, Lisa caught the exchange and glanced at Dr. Hani, who had noticed too. They shared a small, knowing smile—one of those quiet acknowledgments you give when you’re lucky enough to witness something real.

For the next hour, Dr. Hani narrated as they drifted along: birds lifting from the reeds, flashes of movement along the shore, dense green patches giving way to sand, and even a brief stretch of mild white-water that rocked the boat gently and drew a few surprised laughs. Finally, he pointed ahead to the crest of the rising riverbank. “There, my friends, is our destination. A native Nubian family has opened their home to us for a visit.”

They docked, climbed out carefully as the boat swayed, and followed a narrow path up to a large, welcoming home. The host stood at the door in traditional Nubian dress and greeted them in perfect English. “Welcome… welcome. Please, find a seat in our main living room.”

Inside, Mark was immediately taken by the brilliant powder-blue walls. He nudged Kimmy and pointed upward. “Hey, baby, check it out.”

She followed his gaze and saw canvas stretched on poles along the edges of the room, creating shade, while the center remained open to the sky. “What if it rains?” she asked softly.

Mark chuckled. “In the Sahara? That would be pretty unusual.”

They sat, accepted tea and cookies from the wife and daughter, and listened as their host described daily life. It was simple, warm, and quietly humbling—one of those moments that doesn’t announce itself as important but stays with you anyway.

Later, Dr. Hani led them through the streets and past the markets before guiding them back toward the river. “Ahead, you see Philae Island—our next destination. Here we will visit the Temple of Isis. You will find the layout familiar, but the carvings are much better preserved.”

By the time they docked again and started up the path, the heat had arrived in earnest. Mark wiped his brow and glanced at Kimmy. “You okay, honey?”

She nodded, holding his hand as they navigated the uneven ground. “When we get to the courtyard I’m putting my hair in a ponytail. That might help a bit.”

At the first pylon, Dr. Hani paused and gestured to the walls. “The temple was originally built by Pharaoh Ptolemy around 280 BC and dedicated to Isis, Osiris, and Horus. You may recognize the scenes—Isis bringing Osiris back to life, and farther along, the birth of Horus. We will visit a temple dedicated to him tomorrow in Edfu.”

The temple was smaller than the others they’d seen, but intimate in a way that made the details feel closer, more personal. During their free time, Mark and Kimmy stood by the river with Larry and Lisa.

“Pretty amazing, right?” Larry said.

Mark nodded. “Most people think of Egypt and picture the pyramids, the Sphinx—maybe a temple or two. But there are so many temples… so much depth to their history and mythology. It’s remarkable.”

Kimmy turned to him. “I saw on Facebook there’s an Egyptian artifact exhibit coming to our city in a few months. Would you like to go?”

His eyes widened. “That would be cool—especially after seeing the real thing.”

She smiled, feeling that quiet, familiar warmth of having thought of something that made him light up.

They returned to the boat, then docked again and climbed onto the waiting bus. The air conditioning was greeted like an old friend.

“Before returning to the Viking Osiris,” Dr. Hani said as the bus pulled away, “we have a special stop. Can anyone tell me how the Egyptians recorded their history, their books, their religion?”

Mark noticed the way Dr. Hani was looking at him. Kimmy whispered, “You know this, baby.”

He raised his hand. “They wrote most of it on papyrus, right?”

“Our resident World History teacher is correct!” Dr. Hani said with a smile. A small ripple of applause followed, and Kimmy squeezed Mark’s arm, her heart saying what she didn’t need to.

“But,” Dr. Hani continued, “do you know how they made papyrus? You will find out today. Welcome to the Papyrus Institute.”

They listened to the explanation, shook their heads in wonder at the process, and then wandered among the displays. Kimmy drifted toward some jewelry. Mark, meanwhile, spotted something on the wall that stopped him in his tracks.

“Can you personalize this one?” he asked quietly at the counter.

The clerk nodded, took notes, and told him it would be ready in ten minutes.

When he found Kimmy again Mark asked, “Did you find anything baby?”   She frowned slightly. “Not really. The things I like are really expensive.”

She studied his face, then tilted her head. “You did something.”

He tried—and failed—to look innocent. “What… why would you—”

She laughed. “Because, Mark Love, when you do something for me, you are terrible at keeping secrets. Give it up.”

“In about five minutes,” he said, checking his watch. “Trust me.”

She kissed his cheek. “I always do.”

When the time came, he accepted the cylinder that looked like an ancient scroll and led her a few steps away. “Close your eyes and hold out your hands. I’m going to put something in each one.”

She did, smiling, barely able to contain herself.

He unrolled the papyrus slowly. “Okay… you got it?”

“Yes,” she said. “Is it papyrus?”

“It is. Open your eyes.”

She did—and beamed. “Oh, that’s so cool… and look, it says ‘For Mark and Kimmy!’”

He nodded, then pointed. “And see this? These hieroglyphics spell M-A-R-K… and here, K-I-M-M-Y.”

Her eyes misted. “Our own ancient papyrus…”

“Like we’re a pharaoh and his queen,” he said softly.

She leaned in and kissed him, and for just a moment, in Mark’s mind, he could see them seated on a throne before a temple on Philae—cheers rising, banners waving—an adoring queen and her pharaoh, perfectly content in their small, shared kingdom.

Day 9: Aswan – Crocodile Rock (Part 2)

At lunch Mark and Kimmy split a cheeseburger because the special dessert was a banana split, and neither of them wanted to miss it. When Sofia returned, she set two dishes down with a small flourish.

The first went in front of Kimmy. Sofia smiled warmly and said, “I’ve noticed you always choose vanilla, so I made yours with two scoops of vanilla and one strawberry… and extra whipped cream, of course.”

Kimmy’s face lit up. “That’s so sweet of you, Sofia. Thank you! Yes—look, baby, she even remembered I’d skip the chocolate.”

Mark smiled, catching the quiet pride in Sofia’s eyes at having gotten it just right.

“And for you, Mr. Mark,” Sofia said, placing the second dish down, “a classic. But with extra whipped cream as well.” She leaned in just a little. “Enjoy. And if you need anything, you just let me know.”

They laughed, shared bites, and by the time the last spoon scraped the glass, the speaker crackled to life.

“Dear guests,” Dr. Hani’s smooth voice announced, “the bus has arrived for our excursion to the Temple of Kom Ombo. We will load in fifteen minutes and depart in twenty. The sun is hot today, so please pick up a bottle of water as you leave the Osiris.”

As Mark and Kimmy grabbed bottles, they heard footsteps behind them. “Hey guys, wait up,” Lisa called, with Larry right beside her.

“It’s so hot,” Lisa said, fanning herself, “we thought about skipping this one. But mummified crocodiles? When will we ever see that again?”

They laughed and boarded the bus. The ride was short, and when they arrived, the market seemed to surge toward them in a wall of color and sound. Dr. Hani took the microphone with mock seriousness. “We all know how this works. Do not make eye contact with the merchants, or we will never see you again.” The bus erupted in laughter. “But truly, if you wish to buy something, please wait until after the temple visit.”

They walked straight ahead, past outstretched hands and hopeful voices, until Dr. Hani gathered them beneath a cluster of trees. “Here is the Temple of Kom Ombo,” he said. “It is dedicated to the god Sobek—the crocodile god. You will notice something unusual as you look at the first pylon. What do you see?”

Kimmy squinted. “It looks… normal?”

Mark tilted his head, and Lisa’s eyes widened. “Wait—are there two gates?”

Dr. Hani smiled. “Well done, Ms. Lisa. This is a rare split temple. One side is devoted to one god, the other to another. The right side is not safe today, but the left—this side—is dedicated to Sobek. Follow me.”

Inside the courtyard, they stopped in the shade of a massive wall. “Through these doors,” Dr. Hani said, “people came not only to worship, but to seek medical treatment.”

As they walked on, Mark glanced right. “Look, honey—you can see the Nile through here.”

Kimmy paused. “Oh wow.”

Dr. Hani turned with a grin. “A keen observation, Mr. Mark—and not by accident. The ancients believed Sobek and his crocodiles needed easy access to the water. So they left this corridor open.”

“Did crocodiles really wander in and out?” someone asked.

Dr. Hani chuckled. “That, my friend, we can only guess. Come—this next room is a marvel.”

They descended into a cool, dim space that felt more like a modern museum. In the center, dozens of crocodiles lay preserved—some still wrapped, others bare, all frozen in time. A soft chorus of “wow” moved through the room.

“These were discovered during excavations,” Dr. Hani said. “They show just how revered crocodiles were. I’ll see you back at the bus in twenty minutes.”

When everyone had gathered again, Dr. Hani stood once more. “Remember, at 5:30 this evening, a very important port talk. At least one member of each party must attend—we will go over debarkation information.”

A groan rippled through the bus.

He raised a hand, smiling. “But remember, I will be with you all the way back to Cairo. Our journey is not quite over yet.”

Back in their stateroom, Mark stood looking at his clothes. “What do you think about dressing up a bit tonight? I haven’t even worn my sport coat.”

Kimmy’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, I love getting dressed up. Let me text Lisa.” A moment later her phone chimed. “They’re in. Best outfits tonight.”

Mark chose a white polo under his sport coat with gray slacks. Kimmy held up two dresses. “You pick.” One was bright yellow, a playful halter. The other, long and black.

“The black is chic,” Mark said, “but the yellow feels like… Egypt. And it’s a little more party, isn’t it?”

Kimmy giggled. “It is. It always makes me feel like we’re celebrating something.”

When she came out, Mark whistled. “Oh baby. The other gals are going to hate you tonight.”

“All yours,” she said, kissing him quickly.

In the lounge, Lisa waved in a navy dress, Larry in a gray jacket. Compliments flew, laughter followed, and then an older gentleman approached. “We’ve watched you four all week,” he said kindly. “You’ve clearly loved every minute. You gentlemen look sharp—but your ladies…” He gestured broadly. “Beautiful. First round’s on me.”

They thanked him, a little stunned and a lot warmed by the gesture.  The four thanked them and exchanged glances, “Well that was nice,” Mark said.  Kimmy and Lisa held hands and smiled, Lisa said softly, “It’s nice to be noticed right?”  Kimmy smiled and turned to Mark and gave him a look.  He knew that look, and returned the smile his harm warming.

Later, during the port talk, the mood shifted gently toward endings. Luggage tags. Times. Goodbyes in the making.

That night, as they packed, Mark heard a soft, broken sound behind him. Kimmy stood with her back turned, shoulders shaking.

“Baby,” he said, crossing the room, “what is it?”

She turned into him. “I loved this trip. I wanted it to be perfect. But… I miss Brad so much. I just want to hold our little man.”

Kimmy cried softly into his shoulder then raised her head attempting bravery.  “I have so loved our trip,”  Mark smiled, “The trip of a lifetime that I’ve waited for so long for.”  Kimmy’s eyes teared even more.  “I so wanted it to be so special, but….but….”  Mark pulled her close and whispered, “…but what honey?  What can I do?”

Kimmy cried softly, “I so miss Brad….I just want to hold our little man.”

Mark’s chest caught in that way that only missing a loved one can do, and he said softly, emotion in his voice.

“Me too honey.  You know what’s funny?”  Kimmy lifted her head and wiped her eyes, “What’s funny?” she said trying to smile.  Mark’s eyes were soft as he said, “Not funny ha-ha….but, for so long I thought I was happy until I met you.  And then everything changed.  I couldn’t ever imagine being happier.”  Kimmy smiled and said in a whisper, “Me too.”  Mark took her hand and led her to the door, he slid it open so the warm breeze off the water drifted in as the Viking Osiris slid up the Nile River.  Mark took a deep breath and sighed.  Kimmy recognized this, “he’s about to really open up” she thought and she pulled him close.  Mark kept his eyes on the river and said in a husky voice as he tried to stay steady, “And then….then one day walking through the woods when I was so thankful for what life had presented me with – the life I’d thought I could only dream of.  Then….then you….” And he turned to Kimmy, “…you whispered,”  Kimmy finished, “I’m pregnant.”  Mark nodded.  “Changed my life again….and unbelievably made it even better.  Who would have thought?”

Kimmy wrapped her arms around Mark’s waist and held him very tight.  The moon shimmered off the Nile, the water lapped softly against the sides of the Viking Osiris.  Had you been flying a drone above and seen this scene from above you could almost see the ancient Egyptian gods laying their hands on top of the couple and blessing their most fortunate life.

 

Day 10: Edfu / Cairo – Return To Me

Kimmy opened her eyes slowly and smiled when she saw Mark’s peaceful face, a small, contented smile still resting there even in sleep. If I know my husband, she thought, he’s probably dreaming of us walking hand in hand through some ancient ruin.

Almost on cue, Mark’s eyes fluttered open. He blinked once, then focused on her.

“Hey baby… I was just dreaming we were walking along… I don’t know where exactly, but I knew I was happy just being there. I looked over at you and you smiled and said, ‘Look at me.’ And…” He tilted his head slightly and smiled. “…there you are.”

She didn’t let go of his Panthers hoodie, which she was still clutching like a favorite blanket, but she lifted herself just enough for his lips to find hers.

“Morning,” she whispered. “I’m kind of sorry your Death on the Nile cruise is coming to an end. You’ve waited so long for this.”

Mark’s smile softened into something deeper. “I would be sad… if it weren’t for the fact that, unlike all those years I spent dreaming about this trip, I never imagined that when it was over I’d get to spend the rest of my life with someone like you. That tops any adventure or dream I ever had.”

Kimmy felt that familiar, gentle skip in her heart. “Same, baby.”

He pulled her close, resting his forehead against hers. “And as amazing as all that is, we get to go home to our little man in just a couple of days. That might be the best part of all.”

She sat up, tucking her legs under her and sitting cross-legged on the bed. “We do have the best life, don’t we?”

Mark took her hand. “Know what would complete it right now?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Pancakes.”

He grinned. “Pancakes.”

“And I suppose sausage and a heroic amount of syrup?”

He nodded solemnly. “Obviously.”

They laughed and headed for breakfast.

They took their usual seats by the window in the dining room, the Nile sliding past like a long, unhurried ribbon of bronze in the morning light. Sofia appeared almost immediately with her bright smile and the coffee pot.

“Cream for you, Mr. Mark, of course,” she said, then turned to Kimmy with a playful look. “And Ms. Kimmy… did you bring your own creamer again?”

Kimmy laughed. “You know us all too well, Sofia.”

Sofia poured and took their order, and soon returned with pancakes stacked high for Mark and a small omelet for Kimmy. She lingered for a moment, shifting her weight just slightly, then spoke a little more softly.

“May I ask a favor of you two?” she said, lowering her voice. “My most favorite guests?”

Mark looked up with a smile. “Sure. What’s up?”

Kimmy set her fork down and rested her chin on her hand. “What can we do for our favorite Viking girl?”

Sofia blushed a little. “I’ve had something delivered to your stateroom this morning,” she said, her eyes brightening. “…to remember your trip with us. And… with me.”

Kimmy’s face lit up. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Sofia waved the idea away. “I wanted to. But I was also wondering… would it be alright if, after you finish, we go up to the top deck and take a photo together?”

Mark reached for Kimmy’s hand. “We’d love that, wouldn’t we, honey?”

Kimmy nodded immediately. “Yes, absolutely.”

“I can meet you up there in five minutes,” Sofia said. “Before you go see what I left for you.”

They made their way up to the top deck, standing under the canopy in the shade while the river drifted by below. The morning was warm but gentle, the kind of heat that felt more like an embrace than a challenge.

“Any idea what she’s done?” Kimmy asked, leaning into him.

Mark shook his head. “Not a clue. But you’re right—she didn’t have to do anything at all.”

A moment later, Sofia appeared, waving, with her coworker Nico just behind her. She went straight to Kimmy and wrapped her in a hug. “I’ve so enjoyed getting to know you,” she said. Then she turned to Mark and hugged him too, whispering, “Thank you both for being so kind.”

Sofia handed her phone to Nico, and Mark pulled out his own. “One for us too, please.”

They stood with their arms around one another, Sofia in the middle, all three of them smiling like old friends. When they looked at the photos, everyone laughed softly.

“I’ve waited for this trip for so long,” Mark said. “Thank you for taking such good care of us.”

Kimmy squeezed Sofia’s hand. “Really. We appreciate everything.”

Sofia hesitated, then asked, “Are you both on Facebook?”

Mark glanced at Kimmy with a grin. “Want to be friends and keep in touch?”

Kimmy was already opening the app. “Yes. We’d love that.”

“And I want to follow your little boy growing up,” Sofia said with a smile.

They exchanged information, hugged one more time, and then the Viking Osiris began to slow as it approached the dock at Edfu.

When Mark and Kimmy opened their stateroom door, Kimmy let out a little squeal. “Look!”

On the bed sat a stuffed camel, and propped against it was an envelope labeled, To Mr. Mark and Ms. Kimmy.

Mark opened the envelope while Kimmy picked up the camel. “This is so sweet,” she said.

He read aloud:

“To my favorite guests—and future friends, I hope. I have enjoyed your smiles and stories this past week and hope I helped make your adventure a little more special. I will never forget either of you. Please, let’s stay in touch. Hugs—Sofia.”

Kimmy read it again, smiling. “She’s one special girl. Brad is going to love this. It’s perfect.”

Soon the ship docked, and they gathered their carry-ons and headed for the gangway. The crew lined the exit, smiling, waving, and offering warm goodbyes. When they passed Sofia, Kimmy saw her eyes glisten as she mouthed, I’ll miss you.

Kimmy hugged her. Mark squeezed her arm gently. “We’ll see you online. Take care.”

On the bus, the crew waved in unison as it pulled away. Dr. Hani stood and said, “We bid farewell to our home of the past week. I hope you had an amazing cruise—and perhaps one day you’ll join another Viking longship on another river somewhere. But now… on to today’s adventure.”

As he began telling the story of the god Horus, the bus rolled toward the temple. When they slowed, he said, “Look out your windows and admire the first pylon welcoming you. You cannot imagine what it looked like three thousand years ago—but if you look at the monitors…”

The modern stone dissolved into color. Reds, whites, and golds bloomed across the screen. Flags rippled in an imagined breeze. The temple came alive.

Kimmy’s breath caught. Mark’s mouth hung open.

“That is so cool,” she whispered.

He shook his head slowly. “It… it brings it to life. It’s just amazing.”

Larry turned around from his seat in front of them. “Not quite as cool as your reaction, my World History expert.”

Kimmy squeezed Mark’s arm as he laughed it off. Lisa smiled. “Sharing this with you two—especially your insights, Mark—has made this trip even better.”

They followed Dr. Hani through the familiar rhythm of gates, courtyards, towering columns, and shadowed corridors. When they were given free time, the four of them posed for a photo in front of a massive statue of Horus, the great bird-god standing between them like a silent blessing.

Soon the bus headed for the airport, and by late afternoon they were back in Cairo. That evening, they met Larry and Lisa for dinner as the sun sank behind the distant pyramids.

“You know,” Larry said, setting down his glass, “I told you that first day how much we enjoyed watching you enjoy all this history. And truly, that’s been one of the highlights of the trip for us.”

Kimmy smiled. “We’ve loved getting to know you two. Are you connecting tomorrow?”

They compared flights, shared hugs, and wished one another smooth travels before heading back to their rooms.

Later, Kimmy curled into Mark and sighed softly. “Home to the little man tomorrow.”

Mark kissed the top of her head. “I know I’ve said this already, but honestly, baby…” His voice caught just a little. “…I’ve waited so long for this experience. And having you with me made it so much better. Thank you.”

She leaned up, kissed his cheek, and whispered, “I’ll always be here, honey.”

Below them, the lights of Cairo flickered and the moon cast a pale ribbon of light across the room, touching the two suitcases waiting by the door as they drifted off to sleep—full of memories, full of gratitude, and already dreaming of home.

Day 12: Home – One Day I’ll Fly Away

Kimmy walked quickly through the security doors of the airport and heard from across the open area—

“MOMMA!”

She dropped the handle of her carry-on without a second thought, leaving it standing alone in the middle of the floor, and ran toward Allan and Sally, who was holding Brad.

“Oh honey, Mommy’s missed you so much!” she cried, scooping him up into her arms.

Brad offered his best version of kisses—wet, enthusiastic, completely unapologetic—before pulling back, pointing past her shoulder.

“Daddy? Where Daddy?”

Kimmy laughed through her tears and turned him around. Mark was ten yards back, juggling two roller bags and a backpack that was clearly losing the battle with gravity.

“There’s Daddy… see him honey? He’s getting Momma’s bag.”

Allan handed Jillian carefully to Sally and jogged toward Mark.

“Let me help you, Dude.”

Mark tried to grab his backpack as it slipped off one shoulder. His roller tipped sideways just as he reached for Kimmy’s bag. They both burst out laughing and, in perfect timing, let everything drop for a second and embraced.

“Welcome home, Dude,” Allan said, pulling him in tight.

“Thanks, brother,” Mark replied, clapping him on the back before reclaiming his luggage.

By the time they regrouped, Kimmy was kissing Mark’s cheek.

“Sorry baby,” she said sheepishly. “Got carried away.”

Mark smiled warmly. “No apology needed. Come here, little man.”

Brad reached for him and Mark lifted him high before settling him on his hip.

“See Momma? Daddy here.”

Brad grinned, then pointed. “’Lan… ’Lan here.”

They all laughed.

As they made their way toward baggage claim, Sally leaned into Kimmy. “So? How was it? The pictures looked just so… so…”

Allan finished it. “Amazing. Truly. Was it as good as you imagined, Dude?”

Before Mark could answer, Kimmy launched into the story—hands flying, eyes wide, voice rising and falling with the drama of temples and tombs and river sails. Allan leaned closer to Mark and murmured, “Looks like your girl had as good a time as you.”

Mark didn’t take his eyes off her. “That,” he said quietly, “was the best part of the whole trip.”

Brad patted Mark’s shoulder. “Daddy, look… ’Lan… ’Lan here.”

Kimmy reached over and took the clown blanket from Sally. “Here you go, Braddy-O… your blanket!”

Brad leaned back toward her, clutching it instantly. His small hand brought the corner to his mouth as his head settled onto Kimmy’s shoulder, content and sleepy and home.

---

By the time Allan and Sally dropped them off, darkness had wrapped itself around the house. Brad was completely out, his head heavy against Kimmy’s chest as Mark unlocked the front door.

“Should I change him into his jammies?” Kimmy whispered. “He’s so out.”

Mark nodded softly. “He’s not waking up.”

Kimmy disappeared down the hall while Mark brought the luggage in from the porch where he and Allan had left the larger bags. He wheeled them two at a time into their bedroom, lining them against the far wall like silent witnesses to an adventure just completed.

He went back for the carry-ons just as Kimmy returned.

“Wake up?” he asked, opening his backpack on the bed.

She shook her head. “Never moved a muscle.”

Then she stepped close, turning him gently away from the open bag and sliding her arms around his waist.

“Happy to be home, honey?”

Mark exhaled slowly, smiling. “I love travel. And that one’s been on my list for a very long time. But yes. I’m glad to be back. Back to our routine. Back to our bed.” He brushed her hair back gently. “Especially looking forward to rubbing your back. Feel any better?”

Kimmy pressed a hand into her lower back. “Still a little stiff. I’ll melt when you massage it. Let me get out of these clothes.”

A few minutes later, Mark was in sweats and climbing into bed when Kimmy came around the corner wearing his linen shirt from Egypt.

“WHAT?” he said, mock scandalized. “Where’s the shirt, missy?”

She giggled and launched herself onto the bed, making it bounce like a small ocean wave.

“One last shout out to Egypt,” she said, curling into him. “It still feels like Egypt.”

He lifted the shirt gently and switched off the light. Moonlight spilled across the room in pale silver beams as his hands moved slowly across her back, easing the stiffness, grounding them in something simple and familiar.

The night wrapped around them softly.

And just like that, their epic trip to Egypt had come to a close.

---

The next morning, Mark slipped quietly out the front door in his leather jacket and drove to Wawa. As he pulled in, Allan was getting out of his truck.

“Dude. Been kinda lonely here at the Wawa,” Allan grinned. “Glad to have you back.”

Mark clapped him on the shoulder, “Can’t wait to have some REAL Wawa coffee buddy.”  After they’d got their coffees, Mark getting one for Kimmy and the paper for the puzzle, they leaned against the counter enjoying the warmth of the store as Mark shared highlights from the trip.  Allan shook his head in disbelief as Mark described the pyramids, the animated temple, the mummies, the Nile at night.

Allan just shook his head. “Man. That’s unreal.”

Mark paused mid-sip. “Hey… why don’t you guys come over day after tomorrow? Celebrate the weekend. We’ll fill you in properly. It’s been a while since you’ve had Kimmy’s famous spaghetti.”

Allan pulled out his phone. “Let me check with Sally.”

A second later his phone chimed. He laughed. “She’s all in. Seven-ish?”

Mark nodded. “I’ll check with the boss.”

---

When Allan and Sally arrived that evening, Brad was in his playpen with his clown blanket and a pile of blocks. He looked up and saw Jillian, whose arms immediately began flailing wildly.

“Bad! Bad!” she cried.

“Ju Ju!” Brad responded proudly.

Sally set her down and the two toddlers began their own spirited conversation as the adults shrugged off coats.

Allan glanced toward the wall above the TV and froze.

“WOW. That shot in front of the pyramids… that’s stunning. And it balances perfectly with the Antarctica one.”

Kimmy beamed and slipped her arm through Mark’s. “He ordered it the day after we were there. It was waiting when we got home. Now every time we walk in here we’ll see our two best trips.”

Mark stared at the large photo and shook his head slowly. “Still hard to believe we were in Egypt.” He turned to Kimmy. “WE WERE IN EGYPT,” he repeated, carefully enunciating every word. “You wouldn’t believe how massive those pyramids are.”

The evening filled with pasta, laughter, and overlapping stories. The children eventually drifted off to sleep, their soft breathing humming through the monitor.

The adults carried glasses of wine out to the porch and gathered around the fire pit. Flames flickered. The creek below gurgled gently in the dark.

“To being home,” Allan said, raising his glass.

“To being home,” they echoed.

Mark looked around—at the firelight dancing across Kimmy’s face as she animatedly retold the story of the secret passage at Dendara, at Sally’s wide-eyed reactions, at Allan’s laughter shaking his shoulders.

He listened to the creek. He watched the moonlight shimmer across the water.

And he thought quietly to himself—

I have a really good life… who would have thought?