11. In a bowl, beat the egg whites until they become frothy and start to turn white. Add cream of tartar and continue to beat until it forms soft peaks.
12. On the medium speed of the mixer, gradually whip the maple syrup into the egg whites. Beat for 3-4 minutes, until stiff peaks form.
13. Ice the cooled cupcakes.
MAKES 12 CUCAKES
Slay Bells Ringing: Chapter One of “Unsilent Nights”
When I promised to stick by Mark in sickness and in health, I hadn’t thought the sickness part would come so soon. We hadn’t even been married a week.
The thermometer I’d bought in the cruise ship’s pharmacy beeped.
I retrieved it from Mark’s mouth. “You don’t have a fever, so it’s not the flu.”
“Maybe food poisoning.” Mark’s voice had a rough quality to it. Neither of us had slept much last night.
Food poisoning didn’t seem likely to me. The cruise line we’d selected for our honeymoon had excellent ratings and reviews. None had mentioned food poisoning.
There was always a first time. We’d already crossed seasickness off the list. Mark had no problem when we’d been out on my parents’ boat over the summer.
He closed his eyes.
I brushed his hair back off his forehead. This wasn’t how we’d wanted our honeymoon to go, but we had our whole lives together. This wouldn’t be the last time one of us got sick. Ten years from now, it might even make for a good story to tell. “Would you like me to order room service instead of going down to the dining room?”
Mark’s face took on a pinched expression. “No food.”
I eased off the bed, trying not to jostle him. “I’ll be as quick as I can, and I’ll bring back some ginger ale. You shouldn’t have any anti-nausea meds if it’s food poisoning.”
Mark gave a single nod.
I felt like a horrible wife leaving him, but the thought of food clearly made him feel worse. I wouldn’t be any better of a wife for eating around him.
At least I didn’t think so. I didn’t have much in the way of role models to work from. While my parents had a happy marriage, my dad considered getting sick to be a moral failing. As a child, he sent me to school even if I was running a fever of a hundred and was throwing up. Nurturing wasn’t exactly something my parents did.
When it came to being a supportive spouse, I’d have to figure out a lot of it on my own. I hurried as fast as I could in flip flops down to the dining room. I’d be just in time for our assigned dinner time.
I stepped from the corridor into the dining room, and my brain struggled with the switch even though I’d been here multiple times. We’d picked a cruise to South America for the warm weather and Mayan temples, but with Christmas fast approaching, the dining room had been decked out in a winter wonderland theme.
Two tall Christmas trees, filled with tinsel, multi-colored lights, and glittering gold, green, and red balls, flanked the stage. Giant snowflakes hung from the ceiling in lines leading to the central chandelier, and Christmas music played softly in the background.
While I knew that many parts of the world did have warm weather for Christmas, growing up in Washington, DC, and now living in Michigan, meant I automatically associated Christmas with cold and snow. As contrary as it seemed since I’d been the one to insist on a warm honeymoon, I was secretly glad we’d be back home a few days before Christmas. The cruise line tried, but Christmas here wouldn’t have cut it.
Of the three other couples we shared our table with, only one pair was there as I took my seat.
The dining room wasn’t the only place to eat on the ship, but so far everyone had attended all the meals. Since we were having our first at-sea day, I knew none of them were off ship.
I swiveled in my seat. Except for our table, the dining room looked as full as usual.
Maybe Mark’s food poisoning guess wasn’t as far off as it originally sounded. We would have all been served at the same time. If the others had whatever Mark had last night, they might be sick, too. If I remembered correctly, I’d had the chicken, while most of the others had fish. I’d never been a fan of salmon, and no one made fish as delicious as A Salt and Battery back home.
I could almost hear my mother’s voice in my head. Don’t go looking for trouble, Nicole. Enough will find you on its own.
My subconscious mom-voice might be right. I’d been going a little stir-crazy spending all day in our room. Mark had either been throwing up or sleeping, so I’d stayed in the room with him to keep an eye on him rather than partaking of any of the ship’s amenities. I’d finished the book I’d been reading a few hours ago, and I was tired of playing Sudoku on my phone. My brain might be looking for another puzzle to solve.
But if many members of our table had gotten food poisoning, didn’t I have a responsibility to report it? Surely the kitchen would want to investigate so that it wouldn’t happen again.
Besides, if Mark had food poisoning, I could stop worrying that he’d contracted some sort of plague before we even set foot on South American soil.
It wouldn’t hurt for me to stop by the cabin of the couple who usually sat next to me. They were on their honeymoon as well, but the wife, Carrie, had said she was more interested in excursions than her husband was. That wasn’t surprising in itself. They looked like they were close to twenty years different in age, and her husband was heavyset. Carrie had given me their cabin number in case we came across something I wanted to do that Mark didn’t. She’d said she’d be game for anything.
I almost left before dessert until I saw they were serving a maple syrup mousse. Then my curiosity wouldn’t let me leave. If it was good, I’d try to weasel a recipe out of the chef before we left the ship. These days, I was always on the lookout for more maple syrup recipes. Living on a maple syrup farm tended to have that effect.
The mousse was silky and maple-ly and everything I’d been hoping for. It also stuck in my throat. It didn’t seem fair for Mark to have to miss out.
I left my goblet without finishing it. The sooner I figured out whether or not he had food poisoning, the better. If it was food poisoning, it’d pass on its own within a day or two, and we could look forward to enjoying the rest of the trip together.
Carrie and her husband didn’t have an ocean-view cabin, either, based on the cabin number she’d given me. Mark and I had wanted one, but they’d all been booked by the time we reserved our tickets—one of the drawbacks of having a short engagement. It was something else Carrie and I had bonded over. She and Garth had married even quicker than Mark and I had. They’d only known each other six weeks.
I was glad to leave “Jingle Bells” behind and exit into the relative quiet of the corridors. Mark being sick must be making me extra grumpy because I normally loved Christmas carols.
I was thankful the corridors weren’t completely empty, though. I had to stop three separate people for directions. It was too bad they didn’t make GPS maps of cruise ships. Not being able to find my way around on my own was getting a little embarrassing.
At least I’d had my exercise for the day by the time I reached their cabin.
I knocked on the door. A small sound came from inside, but I couldn’t be sure what it was or if I’d even really heard anything. Cruise ships had a whole set of noises to themselves. There was the almost imperceptible drone of the engines and the water rushing by, but there was also the faint groaning sound as the water pressed against the hull and the murmur that seemed to accompany any situation where hundreds of people packed into a space together.
