Page 46 of Fake it With Me

“We have to listen,” Liza told Daisie.

Daisie mimicked her stance, hand shading her eyes, taking the job of whale-watching very seriously.

“What are we listening for?” I asked Liza.

“The blow,” she said. “That’s usually what you notice first. Whales have to surface to breathe, and when they exhale, it makes this sound, like a huge rushing of air. You can hear it from pretty far away if conditions are right.”

“And conditions are right?”

“Conditions are perfect.”

I stood at the rail beside them. All three of us stared out at the sea. I knew Daisie would get bored quickly. She was interested, but if we had to stand around for another hour, she was going to bail. I found staring out at the water very relaxing. But I wasn’t seven with endless energy.

“There!” Daisie shouted, pointing. “I heard it! Did you hear it?”

We all went silent, listening carefully. And there it was, the unmistakable sound of a whale surfacing. That great rushing exhale, like the world’s biggest sigh, carrying across the water.

“Where?” Liza had her camera up, scanning.

“Over there!” Daisie kept pointing. “By that wavy part!”

“All parts of the ocean are wavy, sweetheart,” I said, but I was looking too, following the direction of her finger.

And then I saw it. A dark shape breaking the surface, water streaming off its back as it arched through the waves. A humpback whale, massive and magnificent, so close I could make out the barnacles on its skin.

“Oh my god,” Liza breathed. Her camera was already clicking, rapid-fire shots as the whale moved through the water. “Daisie, you were right! Good eyes!”

Another blow, this time off the port side. Then another. There wasn’t just one whale. There were several, a small pod moving through the area, likely feeding on whatever was around this spot.

Liza was in heaven. I could see it in every line of her body. She took pictures and then jotted down notes in her notebook. She was cataloging data like the adorable nerd she was. I almost forgot I was supposed to be watching whales and not the beautiful woman geeking out over the massive mammals.

“Daisie, come here,” she called. “Want to look through the camera?”

She knelt down and helped Daisie look through the viewfinder, showing her how to follow the whales’ movement. She let her take pictures. My daughter’s face was pure joy. Liza’s patience with her was perfect.

I pulled out my phone and took a picture of them. Liza kneeling beside Daisie, both of them focused on the whales, with the ocean spread out behind them. It wasn’t for show or for the custody case. It wasn’t for anyone else to see. It was just for me, a moment I wanted to remember.

“Darek, look!” Liza pointed. “That one’s about to breach!”

I turned just in time to see one of the whales launch itself partially out of the water, its enormous body twisting in mid-air before crashing back down with a splash that sent spray fifty feet into the air.

Daisie screamed with delight. “Again! Do it again!”

“They don’t usually breach on command,” Liza said, laughing. “But yeah, that was incredible.”

We stayed there for over an hour, watching the whales feed and surface and occasionally breach. Liza filled pages in her notebook, took hundreds of photos, and explained everything to Daisie in terms a seven-year-old could understand. Daisie was getting four years of college education in one hour on the water.

“They’re so beautiful,” Daisie said, watching one surface close to the boat. “Do you think they know we’re watching them?”

“They definitely know we’re here,” Liza said. “Whales are really smart. They might even be curious about us.”

“Do you think they like us?”

“I think they’re probably neutral about us. We’re just another thing in their ocean, not particularly interesting unless we do something to bother them.”

“We’re not bothering them, are we, Daddy?”

“No, sweetheart. We’re keeping our distance, staying quiet. Just watching respectfully.”