He arched a dark eyebrow at her. “Tarzan?”
Kelly grinned. “Yeah, aside from your incredible acrobatics, both off the ground and on it, that was some jungle yell you let loose a couple of minutes ago. Sent visions of loincloths dancing in my head.”
* * *
As they wobbled into camp a short while later, Kelly had to wonder if she wore the same goofy grin on her face that Zach was displaying on his. Anyone with eyeballs and brains could tell what they’d been up to for the past hour and a half.
Alita was the first to comment, lashing them with a spiteful glare. “Well, I hope you had fun, while the rest of us were sitting here growing mold in the rain.”
“Actually, we did,” Kelly retorted smugly.
“And while we were at it,” Zach added for good measure, “we found the perfect place to set up a permanent camp.”
“Not again!” Blair wailed loudly. “Tell me we’re not moving to yet another spot.”
“Holy Moses, woman!” Earl complained, holding his hands to his ears. “To hear you bellyachin’, you’d think we had to move six rooms full of furniture. Lord, if there’s anything I can’t stand, it’s a whinin’ female!”
“It’s really not that far, and it’s more conveniently located between the southern and east shores and the pool,” Zach went on to say.
“Best of all, it’s dry,” Kelly tacked on temptingly, in the manner of a real estate agent. “And the ground is covered with this mossy kind of grass instead of rocks or sand. Nice breeze, lovely view, lots of shade.”
“Sold!” Frazer proclaimed decisively. “When can we move in?”
“It’s available immediately.”
“And we sure won’t have to worry about the neighbors cranking their stereo up too high,” Gavin quipped.
“So, what are we waiting for?” Alita inquired impatiently. “The sooner I’m dry, the happier I’m going to be.”
“R-i-i-ight.” Kelly drew the word out mockingly. “The day you turn genuinely pleasant is the day I’ll start believing in Santa Claus again,”
“So, who are you? Mother Teresa?”
Kelly gazed in dismay at the pile of items Zach had dumped out of her bag onto the ground. “Look at the mess you’ve made! If I ever want to find anything, I’ll have to repack it all. What in the devil are you looking for, anyway?”
“Safety pins,” Zach replied distractedly, proceeding with his search. “I’ve got the dental floss. Now I need the pins and a couple of rubber bands. Oh, and I’m taking the pocket clip off of your ball point pen.”
“What for?”
“Fishing equipment.”
“Fishing equipment?” she echoed stupidly.
“Yeah. I’m hoping the floss will suffice in lieu of regular fishing line, and I’m going to file the pen clip on a rock and use it as the hook. Do you have a bright length of ribbon, or something I could fashion into a decent lure? Since we don’t have anything to use for bait that I think would attract the fish, I’m going to try a little fly fishing instead.” He snapped his fingers as a thought came to him. “I know! That neon pink lace on your panties would be perfect!”
She stared at him in disbelief, then laughed. “Planning to catch a horny fish? One with his fly down? Is that why they call it fly fishing?” she mused teasingly. “I’ve always wondered about that.”
“You’re a regular riot,” he retorted dryly.
“And you’re thoroughly demented. Round the bend. A one-man cracker factory. This Robinson Crusoe fixation of yours is short-circuiting your brain cells.”
The look in his eyes was roguishly determined. “Are you going to hand over that lace voluntarily, or make me take it off of you?”
With a grin, she waved her hand at her face, as if warding off a hot flash, and cooed flirtatiously, “Oooh, baby! Talk some more dirt to me! It gets me all hot and bothered!” From out of nowhere, a raucous voice repeated, “Oooh, baby! Oh, baby! Oh! Oooh!”
Kelly’s head jerked in surprise, as did Zach’s. She eyed him with a frown. “How did you do that? I didn’t even see your lips move.”
“That’s because they didn’t.” Zach peered at the bushes at the edge of the clearing. “Okay, you’ve had your little joke. You can come out now.”
No one emerged. Not a leaf stirred.
“Who are you talking to?” Kelly inquired curiously. “Whichever of our motley companions is pulling a fast one,” Zach replied.
“Uh-huh.” Kelly nodded. “That would make a lot more sense if they weren’t all in plain sight.” She gestured toward the center of their “Tree House,” where the others were busy forming a new firepit.
Zach counted heads, his brow furrowing in bewilderment. All were present and accounted for, and too far away to have been the voice both he and Kelly had heard. “What the…?'”
“Oh, baby! Oh, baby! Oooh!”
Zach gave an involuntary jolt. Kelly emitted a startled squeal. The unseen speaker cackled—a wicked, eerie sound that seemed to waft overhead.
Zach looked up, squinting through the abundant foliage. It took a moment, but then he laughed. “There!” He pointed. “There’s our culprit!”
Kelly followed his lead, her heart still pounding overtime. Half-hidden among the leaves, she caught a glimpse of crimson. She couldn’t quite make out the form of it. “What is it? Who’s up there?”
“A bird. A blasted mouthy parrot!”
“A parrot?” She took a closer look, and sure enough, camouflaged in the branches was a big green and red parrot. “But… Blair said these birds wouldn’t know how to speak.”
Zach’s eyes gleamed with unholy glee. “This one does, and it’s my guess he’s an incredibly fast learner. After all, he’s imitating you, Kelly.”
“Oh, he can’t be! I only just uttered those words a second before he said them! And just that once.”
Zach shook his head, chuckling. “Oh, he’s quick, but he’s not that quick. Unless memory fails me, you repeated that same phrase, several times over, earlier this morning— beneath this very tree, when we were going at it hot and heavy. It wouldn’t surprise me if he learned more than ‘oh, baby’ from you.”
On cue, the parrot squawked. “More! Oh, baby! More!” Kelly’s jaw dropped, her face turning as red as the bird’s feathers. Zach doubled over, laughing uproariously.
“Oh, shut up!” Kelly screeched. “It’s not that funny!”
“Wanna bet?” he choked out.
“I mean it, Zach! Shut up! Now!”
“Now!” the parrot shrilled. “Now, baby! Oooh!”
Zach went into renewed fits.
Kelly scanned the ground. “If I find a rock,” she warned on a feminine growl, “I’m going to bash you and that dratted bird brainless!”
All the commotion had drawn the others to investigate. “What’s going on?”
“What’s so funny?”
“Hey! Let us in on the joke!”
Zach could only point helplessly overhead, holding his aching ribs as tears of mirth rolling down his cheeks.
Kelly, having failed to find a worthy missile, stood flapping her arms and shouting, “Shoo! Go away, you blabbermouthed pest!”
If birds could grin, she swore this one did—at her. It remained firmly atop its perch and called back, “Ooh, baby! Oooh!” Then, adding to his repertoire, he made loud, unmistakable kissing noises.
The others gaped, then burst into hoots and giggles. Kelly, sank to the ground with a mortified groan, and promptly hid her blazing face against her knees.
Zach’s laughter was cut short as the bird managed a fair imitation of his “jungle yell.” Momentarily stunned, it took him a second or two to recover. “You,” he yelled tree-ward with a humor-skewed scowl, “are parrot stew!”
Chapter 12
“Do you have a pair of scissors in that magic bag of yours?” Blair inquired. “I’m about to melt in these hot jeans, and even though I hate to cut up a new pair, I’m thinking of making them into shorts.”
<
br /> “Sure,” Kelly said. “I always carry scissors with me. Hazard of the trade, I suppose. And I was considering doing the same thing to my slacks.” It took her but a moment to produce them, but prior to handing them over, she eyed them and Blair speculatively. “Before we ruin a good pair of scissors, would you like to play beauty shop? After cutting cloth, they’ll probably be too dull to use on hair again.”
Alita’s ears perked up. “Did someone say beauty shop?”
“Yes, I’m itching to get my hands on Blair’s hair, if she’ll agree to a new cut.”
“What did you have in mind?” Blair hedged. “Nothing too drastic, I hope. I like to keep it simple, easy. With the kids and all, I don’t have time to mess with a complicated hairstyle.”
Kelly nodded and assured her, “What I have in mind would be perfect for you. A few shorter wisps to properly frame your face and accentuate your eyes, a little more lift at the front and crown. I’ll shape it to fall into place, and all you’ll have to do is tease it a bit here and there. You can fluff it with your fingers, or a hair dryer if you prefer. You won’t even have to use a curling iron, unless you want a more elegant look for special occasions.”
“That’s good,” Alita put in drolly. “Because for now we don’t have anyplace to plug in a curling iron, and there is no social life. I’ll be so glad to get off this stinking island!”
“As will we all,” Blair said, at the same time gesturing for Kelly to begin cutting her hair. “I miss my children dreadfully, and I can’t fathom the misery Anton is experiencing. Moreover, he doesn’t know the first thing about dealing with kids or running a house. He’s used to associating with adults—fellow professors, college students, and the like. I suppose he’ll have his mother or mine in to cook and clean and watch Bobby and Nancy. I can’t imagine him trying to operate the washing machine or the sweeper. If he can’t do it on his computer, or read it in a book, he’s practically helpless.”
“Maybe it will do him good to learn,” Kelly suggested, turning Blair’s head to a more convenient angle. “If worse comes to worst, he can always resort to instruction manuals.”
“Si, and perhaps he will learn to appreciate you all the more,” Alita added. Then, to Kelly, “While you are doing that, do you have some make-up in your purse that I could borrow?”
“In the plastic case in the zippered side,” Kelly told her. “None of it is probably your preferred shade, but you’re welcome to use it. There’s a mirror in there, too, and a nail-care kit.”
Blair chuckled. “Anton is always making fun of my big purse. I’ve told him I could live for a month on what I carry in there. You are proving my theory, Kelly.”
“I hope not. A week here will be too long.”
“Even with Zach to make it more pleasant?” she teased.
“Well,” Kelly drawled. “Now that you mention it, if I have to be marooned, he’s the perfect man to do it with.”
“I rather guessed that,” Blair said. Then, unable to resist, she cooed impishly, “Oooh, baby!”
Kelly whacked her lightly on the head with the comb. “Don’t you dare get that blasted bird started again!”
Half an hour later, Kelly fluffed Blair’s new “do,” and sat back to admire her work. “I like it,” she pronounced.
“So do I,” Alita admitted, albeit a mite grudgingly. “She looks like a… what is the word… an elf?”
“A pixie,” Kelly corrected. “An adorable pixie.”
“Let me see.” Blair reached for the mirror Alita was already extending toward her. She stared into it for a minute, then grinned. “I love it. Thank you, Kelly. Anton is going to have fits, but I think it’s cute.”
“Piss on Anton,” Alita declared, wrinkling her nose. “The man sounds like a real nerd.”
Blair shrugged. “He is a nerd, but a nice one. I didn’t mean to give you the impression that he’s not. It’s just that he gets so wrapped up in his academic endeavors that they just naturally take precedence over everything else. I suppose you could say he’s the proverbial absent-minded professor.”
“Ignoring you and the kids and the outside world in general?” Kelly conjectured.
“And puffing himself up, while he makes you feel inferior?” Alita blew on her newly polished fingernail to aid the drying. At Blair’s acknowledging look, she added adamantly, “Then it is high time you did something to make him stand up and take notice. You are his wife, not his servant. I am sure you are superior to him in many ways, Blair. You must make him see this and give you credit for it.”
“Alita is right, Blair. Unless you’re truly comfortable in his shadow, don’t resign yourself to staying there. That’s what I did with Brad, and I was miserable.”
“But I love him. And while I wouldn’t mind having him pay more attention to me and the kids, I certainly don’t want a divorce.”
“I'm not suggesting you do. I’m just saying that you deserve some praise and acclaim in your own right. Every woman does.”
Blair looked uncertain. “Well, I can’t blame it all on Anton. I have let myself go more than I should have. But with the house and the children, and my job, and another baby on the way, there just don’t seem to be enough hours in the day anymore. By the time I get off work, rush home and put supper on the table, help Bobby with his homework and get him and Nancy off to bed, pick up the house and do a couple of loads of laundry, I’m so tired I can scarcely see straight. And before you say anything, we can’t afford household help or for me to quit my job at the library.”
“What about your lazy husband?” Alita suggested with a sneer. “Is he so completely helpless that he can’t pick up toys, or help his son with his school work? It seems to me you should teach that old dog a few new tricks.”
“He’s usually busy grading papers, or preparing for his classes.”
“While you take up the slack and let him get by with shoving most of the work onto you,” Kelly told her. “Hey, girl, you’ve let him slide for too long. The modern husband does his fair share around the house, especially if his wife is also holding down a job. And he should also be contributing in the fatherhood category, helping to raise your children. After all, it’s not as if you carted those kids home with the groceries. Unless I miss my guess, he had plenty of fun making them. The least he can do is help rear them. Changing a few diapers wouldn’t kill him, but it might wake him up to all the dirty little chores you’ve been doing for years.”
“I suppose he could pick Nancy up from his mother’s on his way home from work,” Blair allowed. “And learn to use the laundry hamper instead of letting his clothes litter the bedroom floor. And hang his wet towel on the bathroom rack, where it belongs, and shut his dresser drawers and closet properly. It’s those little things that really irritate me.” She was starting to get into this now, her gray eyes shining with fervor.
“And the kids could help out, too, with smaller chores like taking out the trash and making their beds and keeping their rooms neat. My mom was a stickler for all that,” Kelly recalled. “She had us doing dishes when we had to stand on a chair to reach the sink.”
“At least you had a sink,” Alita muttered.
That remark gained their full attention, as Kelly and Blair turned questioning looks her way.
“What?” she snapped. “You think I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth? Hah! Both of you were probably raised like little princesses compared to me. Even this place,” Alita waved a hand to encompass their surroundings, “little as it offers, is better than the place where I grew up. At least the water does not come from the gutter or a polluted well. The food does not come from garbage cans, alive with worms and bugs. The very spot where we sit is more comfortable and offers more shelter than the hovel I called home.” She gave a gruff laugh. “Even the company is better, and that is not saying much.”
“You grew up in the slums?” Kelly inquired incredulously. “That’s not the story your public has been told, not by a long shot. I’ve read in interviews that
you are the product of a nice, average family from Mexico City. Your lather was a factory worker—”
“My father was a good-for-nothing drunk!” Alita interrupted bitterly. “He worked at odd jobs just enough to get money to buy more beer or liquor and go on another bender. We, my sisters and brothers and I, lived in a tiny, ramshackle town near the west coast, about halfway between Manzanillo and Acapulco. I never saw Mexico City until a couple of years ago.”
“What about your mother?” Blair asked hesitantly.
“She ran off with another man when I was seven years old. Left five kids behind to fend for themselves or starve. Not that I blame her entirely. She saw a way out, and she took it, just as I did.”
“What about your brothers and sisters?”
Alita gave a careless shrug. “Geraldo turned out like our father, but not so lucky. He was killed in a knife fight over a lousy bottle of tequila. Juanita married, and already has a passel of kids tugging at her skirts. Pedro has a good job at a hotel in Ixtapa. Maria works there, too, at the hotel, as a maid. So did I, until the night the female singer of the band playing in the lounge got sick. A friend told them I could sing even better. They gave me a try and, as they say, the rest is history.” Her dark eyes shimmered with acrid memories. “No more making beds and cleaning rooms for a dollar a day, no more begging for kitchen scraps, and no more kissing up to rich tourists.”
Her smile was more of a snarl as she faced the other women defiantly. “Now, do you see why it is so important to me to have nice things? To have more money than I can count? To never go hungry or dirty again?”
Kelly let out a low whistle. “Yeah, Scarlett, I sure as hell do!” she said. “I can also understand how you got the reputation for being such a hard-assed bitch. If I came up the way you did, I’d be one too.”
“Amen!” Blair intoned in sympathetic agreement.
“I am not always so disagreeable,” Alita told them. “But just now, I must stay ahead of the game, and getting stuck on this island is not helping. I have a chance to audition for a lead in a movie, an opportunity I would kill for, and I have been very nervous about it. Now, if they think I am dead, they will give the part to someone else. I may never get such a chance again. Not to mention that the recording business itself is a dog-eat-dog world. To stay on top, you must work harder, sing better, and make hotter videos than anyone else. If you sit back, for even a day, someone else will come along and take your place. I cannot let that happen. I will not be a flash in the pot.”
Horizons Page 13
