Now that we stopped jumping waves and I've lost my cookies, I feel remarkably better. But I'm still leaning over the side of the rubber raft- feeling pretty humiliated. This is the second day in a row that I've been the weak link. I've spent so much of the last decade trying to take care of Josh and make myself valuable. I really hate feeling so . . . incompetent.

But then I notice, Josh is rubbing my back, and holding my hair out of my face, and whispering softly in my ear.

"oh, baby, I'm sorry. I should have noticed you didn't feel good. Are you done? Do you want some ginger ale?"

I sit up and turn back around and lean into his arms. He holds me gently, stroking the side of my face softly, and I realize that there really isn't anything humiliating about being taken care of by Josh Lyman.