by Sue Seabury
Wiping the grit from the red streaks on her leg, she had a second thought: maybe it was a whale. She walked to the end and craned her neck.
Nothing.
She waited. Still nothing. She’d just given up when the sound came again. She was startled again, but less this time.
It was a blowhole. Every so often, a wave was big enough to force its way up through a fissure in the rocks.
This resort was amazing. She was so glad she’d come. Even if she hadn’t left Darren, he would never have splurged on a place like this.
Josie’s mantra, “Living well is the best revenge,” came to mind.
Thing was, Kat didn’t care too much about getting even. Unlike Josie, Kat had been the one to initiate the divorce. Even when Darren shacked up almost immediately with the neighbor, Kat hadn’t felt a twinge.
Well, maybe a tiny one. More because she’d made a casserole for Cyndy after her husband died and the woman had never bothered to return her baking pan. The frizzy-haired frump had probably been plotting the takeover all along.
Didn’t matter. That nonsense was an excellent reason to be away from Princeton. But really, she’d agreed to this trip not for revenge, but for differentrwords, namelyrestandrelaxation. Between the divorce, her mother passing, and getting her son ready for college, she needed it.
Kat had hoped to add a thirdr,reconnection with Josie. With all the other claims on her time, they’d lost touch over the past year. Except, lately, Kat had entirely too much time to herself.
No one seemed to need her anymore, not even the cat. Mrs. Robinson preferred bread eaten straight through the plastic bag rather than the Fancy Feast.
Another good reason not to have cancelled, but nine more days by herself? She was starting to feelpassionate — about getting Josie down here.
Kat needed to call her. She made her way back over the rocks.
6
A bouquet of fragrant flowers extended a greeting from her nightstand. They hadn’t been there earlier; she was sure about that. She’d set her in-flight magazine on the empty tabletop. No memory problems there.
Her skin tickled at the idea of Hugo having been in her room. She had no proof it was him, just a feeling.
She sat on the bed and leaned toward the fluted glass vase. It held a few big red hibiscus and some smaller pink flowers. The scent was invigorating, a cross between ginger and mint. As she inhaled, waves of peace radiated around her. The room was pleasantly dim and cool, and completely quiet. Why was the silence here so different than in her apartment?
Kat ran her fingers over the waxy pink petals and the scent intensified. Somehow she didn’t think flowers would be enough to turn her one-bedroom efficiency into a home.
She decided against calling Josie. It’d be too easy for the conversation to devolve into how she had no life back in New Jersey. Too many of her acquaintances had succumbed to Empty Nest Syndrome and desperate attempts to “keep busy.” She wasn’t going to be one of them. The proof: she was doing nothing at an exotic Caribbean resort right now.
That wasn’t as triumphant as it sounded. She went to take a bath.
Bubble bath was provided, so thoughtful with all the airline restrictions these days. She generously doused the water and the scent of grapefruit mingled with the mint and ginger.This would make a tasty drink.
Feeling extravagant, she got in and let the water run until it reached the brim. The temperature was perfect. The Queen of Bubbleland shut her eyes. . .
*
They opened again to the sound of vegetation being thrashed. How long had she been asleep? Her pruney fingertips answered: too long.
The window above the bathtub had a wrought iron grate but no curtain. A person would have to bushwhack to get to it, but that was exactly the sound she heard now. Pirates searching for human booty?
Although the bubbles covered her, she sank down until her nose was just above the waterline.
The whacking continued, accompanied by someone humming a happy tune. Most thieves wouldn’t announce their presence with a song. She needed to get out anyway. The water was getting cold.
She stood, boldly daring the weed-whacker to peek in, then scurried for a towel when the sound of hacking came close to the window again. She threw on her sundress and went outside.
Glistening sweat highlighted Hugo’s rippling muscles as he swung a machete the size of his arm. “Oh, Miss Katherine. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have done this now if I’d realized you were there. I thought you were still out walking.”
“How did you know I went for a walk?”
Hugo’s tan cheeks took on a slight rosy tinge. “I saw you head down the cliff path. Did you enjoy the view?”
“I did.” Kat felt a creepy-crawly thing on her shin and kicked. Just a drop of water.
“What happened to your leg?” Hugo asked.
Now it was Kat’s turn to go pink. “Slipped on the rocks. The blowhole spooked me a little.”
“Oh. I am so sorry.” Hugo knelt and cradled her shin. The electricity that radiated from him had no trouble finding her heart again. “Why did you not come straight to see me? I would have cleaned it for you.”
“It’s just a scrape.”
“Still. Please. If anything like this happens again, do not hesitate to come find me.”
“Oh, well, if you’re looking for real dangerous situations, I fell asleep in the bath. So thanks for making all that racket or else I might have drowned.”
Hugo went pale under his tan. “Please tell me you’re joking again.”
Why had she told him? She studied her bare feet. Another nail had a chip. “Um, no, but clearly I’m fine, so let’s call it a joke.”
Hugo exhaled heavily. “My mother was a nurse so she always insisted I keep my CPR and First Aid certification current. But I do not want to have to use it on any of my guests.”
Kat seized on the opportunity to change the subject. “Oh, did she pass? I’m so sorry. My mother passed, too, earlier this summer. It’s been hard, but it was also a release for her. Her dementia had gotten pretty bad.”
She bit her lip. She hadn’t meant to turn the discussion into a pity session for herself. And now Hugo looked even more upset. A conversation about dead mothers wasn’t much of an improvement over one about dead guests.
He whacked randomly at the nearby bushes. The blade caught in the trunk of a small tree. He left it there. “Um, actually, my mother is still alive. Just, she developed arthritis and could not do fine work with her hands anymore.”
Kat chewed the insides of her cheeks. “Oh. That’s a shame. I mean, it’s good she’s still alive, a shame about her hands.”
Could this conversation get any more awkward? For something to do, she reached for the machete handle.
Hugo’s massive hand blocked hers. “Please, you have had enough near-misses for today, don’t you agree?” His chocolatey eyes were sorrowfully earnest.
She looked away and squeezed her damp hair. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” A lock fell forward. She pushed it back, wishing she’d taken the time to comb it, or at least put on lipstick.
Hugo raised his hand and had almost touched her hair when a tiny bird flitted into a nearby hibiscus bloom. His hand veered off to a nearby branch. He rubbed the shiny leaf between his thumb and forefinger, then snapped it off.
Her breath caught. When she was able to get air into her lungs again, she said, “Was it you who left me the flowers?”
He nodded, eyes on the machete.
“They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
“Beauty is the promise of happiness.”
Kat’s chest tightened. “How lovely.”
Hugo’s shy smile showed the gap in his teeth. “I didn’t come up with that. A guest said it and I googled it. It’s by a French author named Stendhal.”
“Did you read the story?”
“Yes. For such an old book, it was quite good.”
“Do you like the classics?”
“I li
ke authenticity. Honesty.” Hugo yanked the machete and gave another vicious whack to the tree trunk. It sagged. “Not something people value much these days.”
“Oh, I dunno. Seems to me people hundreds of years ago were just as dishonest and self-absorbed as they are today.”
Hugo huffed out a breath, his expression surprised. “You’re right. People in general do not change.” He plastered on a professional smile. “Forgive me for bringing up such a serious subject. Your time here should be completely carefree. It is my goal to have your enjoyment high, and your risk low for the rest of your stay. How does that sound?”
Again with the goals. But since they were aimed at her happiness, why not? “Like heaven.”
“Now, the massage I mentioned earlier. I have an opening at ten tomorrow morning. Does that suit you?”
Her muscles sang with excitement.
7
Kat went in to change for dinner. So far, the only thing she had on besides underwear was the heart locket Carver had given her for Mother’s Day when he was seven. It was tarnished and scratched, and not even real gold. More recently, Carver had offered to buy her a new one, but it was her most cherished possession and she’d never part with it.
One good thing about the locket was that it was so tiny and inconspicuous, it went with everything. She tried on the hot pink paisley dress Josie had talked her into, but the neck was so low and the hem so high, she took it off again. Too risqué for a single woman in an unfamiliar place. She sank into the lounger. She’d never eaten alone in a restaurant in her life.
Before meeting Darren, she couldn’t afford it. Since the divorce, she was back to not being able to afford eating out. Did everything have to go full circle? She couldn’t bear to think she’d end up like her mother, stuck in some state nursing facility. Kat had tried to take care of her, but she was too sick and needed professional, round-the-clock help.
Cool air on her bare skin brought her back to her current dilemma. She was still debating whether room service was worth the extra charge when her cell phone rang. Josie.
“Too busy having fun to call me, huh?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. You need to get your butt down here for the anatomy lessons alone. What’s the prognosis?”
Josie sighed dramatically, never a good sign. “I’ve been talking to Harv every day, and he says it really isn’t safe for me to fly.”
“So Doctor Sheggertz is ‘Harv’ now, huh?”
Josie ignored her. “He says I should give it a minimum of seven days, probably more like ten. But even if I do come, that only gives me, like, two days! It doesn’t seem worth it.”
Kat chewed her lip. She should have expected this, but the confirmation was hard to accept. “If it can’t be helped, then that’s that. At least the resort gave you a room credit.”
Josie’s “umphf” sounded so sad.
In the past, Josie was always the one to point out the silver lining, but the divorce had changed her. Not to say bitter, but . . . It was up to Kat to keep things positive. “You probably won’t believe me, but I met your cosmic twin.”
“What?”
Kat told her about all of Queenie’s escapades, starting with her argument at airport security that the muscular agent should pat her down again “in case he missed something,” right through to her shameless attacks on Ramsey.
“So you’re saying you replaced me?” Josie sounded annoyed.
Kat laughed to keep it light. “Not at all. The opposite. It’s like being stuck with a hormonal teenager. And she totally glommed on to me. I have to figure out how to ditch her.”
Silence on the other end of the line. Kat said, “Josie? Did I lose you?”
“You lost me when you said you need to ditch this woman who is, quote, ‘my cosmic twin.’” Josie’s tone was as cold as a January day.
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean . . . I mean, if it wasyou . . .” Kat didn’t quite know what to say next. It probably would have annoyed her if it had been Josie acting like a boy-crazy teenager. How had they gotten on this topic again? Oh, yeah. She’d brought it up. Note to self: don’t blab when overtired.
“You were saying?” Josie said. “If it’d been me?”
“We could have laughed about it. This woman has, like, zero sense of humor. Takes herself way too seriously.” Kat crossed her fingers. She thought she’d done a decent job of recovery, but Josie didn’t seem to agree.
“Hmph. Sounds nice enough to me.”
This was the kind of difficulty they’d been encountering lately. They’d been best friends since the third grade when they defended the girls’ fort in the school hedges with a killer booby trap involving a squeaky toy and a water gun. But this past year it had been one long series of crossed wires and misunderstandings, unintentional or otherwise. They didn’t click the way they used to. And speaking of no sense of humor, Josie hardly laughed anymore. Again, Kat labored to reroute the conversation to a more upbeat path.
“The food here is amazing. Well, I’ve only had chips and salsa and some fruit punch, but it was all delicious! Everything is so fresh! I really wish you were here. I can’t wait to see what they have on the dinner menu, although I’m not looking forward to eating by myself.” The last bit slipped out by itself. Ugh.
“That’s the only reason you wish I was there? Because you’re too chicken to eat alone?” Now Josie really had her hackles up.
“No, no, don’t be silly.”
“Excuse me, amI acting like a hormonal teenager?”
“Oh, Josie.” She should have ended the call three minutes ago. “Listen, I’d better go.This roaming call is probably costing me a fortune.”
“Fine. Enjoy your mind-blowingly good dinner all by yourself. But, hey, if you can stand it, why not eat with my annoying twin?”
“Josie—”
“Don’t want to waste any more of your precious roaming minutes. Bye.”
The click reverberated in Kat’s ear. She hopedshe hadn’t developed some kind of ear problem, although there were worse places to be forced to stay than this resort. She made a mental note underlined in red not to make this joke to Hugo.
Maybe she should go home and come back another time. It seemed a cruel joke to have to endure this Queenie woman if Josie couldn’t comeand was mad at her.
But buying another plane ticket . . . She needed more input, a fresh opinion. Scrolling through her contacts list, she passed ‘Basking Heights’, her mother’s nursing home. There was no reason to keep the number. She should delete it. Except she couldn’t. A tear slipped out.
She wiped her cheek and scrolled on. She came to Carver’s number and pressed it.
“Hello?”
He never picked up so she didn’t immediately respond until the voice at the other end said, “Ma, you there?”
“Oh, Carver. Sorry. I wasn’t expecting you to answer.”
“I’m glad you called.”
Kat’s heart did a little flip. “Me, too.”
“Yeah, a couple of the guys are starting a skateboard club. Could you drop mine off?”
“Well, it depends on when you need it because—”
“Today would be cool, but if you’re working, I understand. Tomorrow’d be okay too.”
“Oh, but, Carver, I’m at The Retreat. Did you forget?”
“Retreat? Like some religious thing?”
“No, it’s the name of the resort in Puerto Rico.”
Silence. Apparently, her son had forgotten she’d left the country.
Kat continued, “Anyway, the board is at your father’s house. Maybe he can drop it off.”
“Yeah, right.”
Darren wasn’t one to play fetch. But that didn’t mean the job automatically fell to her. At least, not anymore.
“Maybe a friend can give you a lift over to pick it up. So, I had a question I wanted to ask you. Josie and I planned this trip together, and I’m supposed to be here for a little over a week, but now it sounds like Josie can’t make it at all. Should
I wait and come back with her later?”
“Hang on, you’re already there and you want to know if you should come home and go back some other time? Didn’t you use up all your vacation for this thing?”
It did sound like a silly idea when he said it.
“Well, I’m sure Dominique would be happy to have me back at work. And I’m here by myself.”
Silence.
Kat’s heart sank at how distant they’d become in such a short time. To think he used to race home every day after school so they could play catch together.
“So, I should stay.” She tried to make it sound like a statement.
“What?!” Carver’s burst of emotion was followed by several explosions that sounded likeTotal Annihilation, his favorite video game. “Yes!”
“Yes to me, or yes to blasting the enemy to smithereens?”
Strident guitar music played for several long moments on Carver’s end, then, “I know what I’d do. Anyway, I should probably hit the books . . .”
Now that’s she’d just shown herself to be lily-livered, she had to prove she wasn’t. “I went surfing.”
“Oh, yeah?”
Kat knew that would get him, but felt ashamed of herself for using such an underhanded trick to keep him on the line. Still, she had him, so she didn’t waste the opportunity.
“Yup. I think it’s gonna hurt like H-E double hockey sticks tomorrow, but I did it.” She’d started the spelling swear words when Carver was little, then kept this particular one going because he loved hockey and it made him laugh. He didn’t laugh today.
“Cool.”
“I had a great instructor, very patient—”
“Sounds great, Ma. But I need to go. Midterms already.” More blasting sounds in the background.
“Okay, well. I’ll call you later in the week. I plan to go snorkeling, and there’s a rainforest, the only one in the United States.”
“Awesome. Bye.” The phone clicked.
Kat pressed the phone to her forehead. She’d already messed up her “goal” of making decisions on her own, pissed off her best friend, and earned her son’s contempt in the bargain.
