Rum Punch Regrets (3 page)

As she was peering in the first couple of rooms, she was amazed at their size -- these two particular rooms had king beds in them and sitting areas to boot. One room had its own bathroom while the other appeared to have a shared bath or maybe it was attached to another suite or sitting area? Again, too tired too comprehend, Abby settled on the larger of the two bedrooms, the one with the bathroom in it, assuming it was the master suite. And hopefully these rooms were truly centipede-free -- NO! Why did she have to think about that now? She knew she would spend the rest of the evening jumping at the mere thought of a flipping bug crawling on her.

Abby hopped in the shower and then threw on her crisp, clean pajamas. She did her bed check for the centipedes, pulling off all the covers and looking under everything, even the pillowcases. Even though it was humid as hell and she was sweating just making the effort, Abby refused to turn on the air since Ziggy had said the centipedes were attracted to warmth in cold places.
Jesus,
she thought as she put on socks,
I am going to lose ten pounds as I sleep tonight just sweating from the clothes alone.
She sighed heavily and lay down on top of the pillows and reached over to turn out the light. Then she jolted up to tuck her pajama bottoms into her socks so the centipedes didn’t get in there.

Ben must have been doing his laps still because the last thing she remembered before she fell off into dreamland was the rhythmic sound of the water lapping from the motion his arms made as they glided smoothly through the water.

CHAPTER TWO

Abby opened her eyes to the welcome sounds of the ceiling fan above her as the morning light and humidity were finding their way into the bedroom. The monotonous hum of the engine mixed with the whirring of the blades as they circled round and round was a white noise so soothing that she was usually lulled into a state of instant relaxation when she heard it. However, there was an unnerving feeling that had found its way into the pit of her stomach.

In the stillness of the room, Abby thought she could hear someone breathing. That is, someone other than herself. As she lay there quietly, listening to what she thought was empty space, she heard the rustle of fabric, texture upon texture sliding over each other, like legs crossing and uncrossing. There was also a tapping sound -- maybe someone’s foot or a knock on some faraway door? Abby licked her lips and quietly let out a slow breath between them as she began to gather herself, opening one eye to sneak a peek around the room.

As she squinted her eyes and began to raise her head out from under the sheet that covered her, she was greeted with a smile. A big toothy smile that belonged to a strange woman who was in the rocking chair opposite the bed.
Who is this and why is she in my room?
Abby’s thoughts were racing as she jumped from the bed and landed on the side opposite this rather robust Kittian lady, placing the bed squarely between them.

“Abby George! Leigh said you’d make it one day,” she said with a smile. Her teeth were bright white in comparison to Ziggy’s.

Who is this woman? And where is
her
accent from? It’s different from Ziggy’s Kittian slang . . . Wait, that’s it,
Abby thought.
Ziggy. Leigh said Ziggy has a wife. This must be Maria!

“Maria? Are you Maria?” Abby asked tentatively as she fumbled around for a light shirt to throw on over her pale pink tank top. Being caught asleep and braless made her feel unarmed, like a soldier sent to battle with a water gun.

A loud raucous laugh came from Maria’s gut. The laugh of a very pleased woman, one who was not as uncomfortable with the present situation as Abby was. She nodded, rocked and stared at Abby.

Wow. This is really awkward,
Abby thought as she smiled tightly at her, maybe a little too tightly. Maria just sat and kept on rocking and smiling and staring.

Okay, this is beginning to feel like a claustrophobic Caribbean standoff,
Abby thought. She began fidgeting with her fingers out of nervous habit and trying to smile, yet her shoulders were hunching up closer and closer to her ears with each moment that passed. Abby was the one who finally broke.

“So, you’re in my room. I guess this is an official good morning? The St. Kitts’ wake-up call?”

Maria grinned and smoothed out the fabric of her pants as she continued to rock. “It’s a wake-up call, yes.” Maria gazed at Abby. “I’m here to get you up and out of the house . . . before the company arrives.”

She’s drunk,
Abby thought.
Jesus. It’s what, 7 or 8 a.m. and this woman is already drunk? Kicking me out of my sister’s home?

Abby smiled to herself, looked directly at Maria and said slowly, “I’m not trying to be a jerk or rude, but you wake me up after a long day of travel to ask me to leave
my
sister’s home?” Abby waved her hand around the room. “That I’m here to take care of?”

Abby looked Maria in the eye, almost laughing at the thought that this was an issue. Yet Maria was not reacting. In fact, she was just rocking and nodding.

“No time for limin’. Leigh asked me to be kind in telling you since you traveled so far an’ being her sister an’ all. Just no way to wake someone up to say get out, really.” The big pearly white smile was back. This woman needed to share her Crest Whitestrips with Ziggy.

What is the obsession with picking limes here?
Abby thought.
Are limes a main source of island income, and do I need to help pick them?

Abby crossed her arms. She could tell that her quizzical stare made Maria melt a little, wanting to explain further. Yet Abby felt like Maria was stopping herself.

“Abby, come. Let me make you some coffee. It seems to me that Miss Leigh may have left something out when she sent you here . . . ”

Oh no. Oh no!
Abby’s voices were screaming in her head.
Of course there is more to the story. That DAMN Leigh! She never, ever, ever can tell just the truth or tell something like it really is. Oh, hell no. She has to cover up something or . . . instead of lie, “I omitted the truth, Abby,” she says. Humpf. Omits the truth. I always think I know her. All I really know is that I never will know her like I think I do.

Abby was rubbing her forearms and realized her demeanor had shifted from “I’m the Queen of the Manor” to “I think I’m lost.” Maria took note of this, too, as she lifted herself from the rocker.

“Abby, come. Coffee and food. It does wonders for the body and the mind, not to mention the surprise of all this. And then I can explain to you the things you need to be hearing. It’s gonna be a bit to take in, oh yes. But Leigh wants you to know it for some reason. Otherwise, it would not be you doing this, right?” And with that, Maria began to walk out of the room, stopping at the door to turn around and wait for Abby.

Okay, strange Kittian woman with the bright smile,
Abby thought as she slid into her flip-flops and shuffled out of the room behind Maria.
You have a point. I need coffee. Let’s do this.

#

“La Cantina is Leigh’s bed-and-breakfast and I have to move in with BEN?!?!” Abby shouted, slapping her hand over her mouth almost instantly when she heard her own voice hit an octave that had never been captured before.

“Abby, it’s gonna be uncomfortable and a wee bit crowded . . . ”

“‘Wee bit crowded’? Are you kidding me?”

“But you can do it. He has an alcove that was meant as a place for a desk. Ziggy is bringin’ an air mattress today for you. After he tells Ben that you’re movin’ in.” Maria placed Abby’s coffee mug in front of her. “Here. I just put milk. Like Leigh likes it, too.”

Abby gripped her coffee mug tightly. So tight she was worried she might just shatter it. Maria continued to bustle around the kitchen, chopping vegetables and cooking as if getting ready for Thanksgiving.
Well. At least I don’t have to break the news to Ben,
Abby thought.

Abby had to fight her sudden urge to video-chat Leigh so she could see her face as Abby bitch-slapped the computer screen.

“Maria, I’m going to repeat back to you everything you just told me to make sure I have this under control in my brain. Okay?”

Maria nodded, mumbling, “Okay, Abby,” and kept busy prepping food in the kitchen for the mystery meal.

Abby took a deep breath, like the yoga kind her therapist always suggested to her, especially when she was trying to quit smoking. Or dealing with her mother or Leigh.

“La Cantina is a bed-and-breakfast. An inn. My sister owns an inn. A B&B. And it is La Cantina. Right?” Abby asked.

Maria turned and looked at Abby. “Yes.” Then she returned to her work.

“Okay. And tonight, there are guests arriving so I am not to be in the house because the space is needed, therefore this truly is a classic case of ‘no room at the inn’?” Abby stopped long enough to take a breath before continuing. “Again, La Cantina being the BED AND BREAKFAST MY SISTER OWNS?”

Maria turned and glowered at Abby. “No need to be shouting. I am right here.”

Abby nodded and took another drink of coffee. “I’m sorry I’m shouting, but all of this,” Abby began waving her hands around and motioning loudly, as if her hands could talk and they were the ones shouting, “is a bit of news to me. A big piece of info that my sister, the person I should know best in the world, has left out. That’s what she does. She leaves things out.” Abby was exasperated. “I even asked her . . . Okay. That she has a house is one thing . . . but a freaking inn on a Caribbean island? And I can’t even stay in it? I get to room with a complete stranger for a few weeks while I help her fix her inn?”

Abby pounded her heart with the palm of her right hand and began breathing dramatically. “Forgive me if I am yelling or in any way offending you, Maria, but things as I know them keep shifting. Dramatically.” Abby suddenly shuddered. “Oh God.”

Abby was sweating profusely and her stomach was sick. “This. This is what a heart attack feels like. I think I’m having a heart attack . . . ”

Abby got up and was really stroking at her heart now and couldn’t catch her breath.
Oh God,
she thought.
I’m going to die in this house of Leigh’s right before her guests arrive to stay. Well, well. That’s one way to totally get her ass back.

“Gas. It’s gas. I bet you need to go number two.”

Abby turned and looked at Maria.
Is this woman joking?
From Maria’s deadpan, know-it-all expression, Abby could tell she was not.

“You traveled and are probably dehydrated. I am sure you just need to release a little stress. Maybe a massage for your bowels later? Now sit back down . . . ”

Abby was stunned. “No one will be massaging my bowels today. And stress? Maria, really? Everything I keep discovering and now there’s a you and a Ziggy and a house and a roommate and guests and you think I only have gas? I’m thinking an ulcer or an aneurysm.”

Maria nodded, her face emotionless. “Ziggy gets it too. No worry. I make you a root tea later; everything will be,” she winked at Abby, “regular again. Smooooth. You’ll see.”

Maria started to laugh raucously, and it echoed all through the kitchen and dining room. It rolled over porches and into the yard. The neighbors probably heard her, if the wind was just right. Abby knew she would not escape the sound of this woman’s glee. In fact, Abby knew she would not escape any of this. It was her new reality. Yet as Maria laughed, Abby started to smile as if she was infected by the sound. Slowly her own laughter joined Maria’s. Here she was in paradise, Abby George, and she was about to stay with someone she had never met, much less had even been introduced to. It was all quite surreal.

Abby was still chuckling as she sat back down at the kitchen table.

“Okay, Maria. I’ll play. I really have no choice, do I? I’ve never been here, and I don’t know you or Ziggy.” Abby looked at Maria, who was smiling at her again.

“So, Ziggy is telling Ben that he has a new roommate?”

“Yes, ma’am. He already told him Leigh is going to be selling the place.” Maria watched Abby for her reaction. Realizing Abby was calm and listening now, she went on. “Ben’s studying to be a vet and needs to get done this semester so he can go back.”

“To the States, right? Leigh mentioned the vet school and finishing up back on the mainland.” Abby asked as she dived into a plate of muffins Maria had placed in front of her
. Mmmm, blueberry . . .
Better than the Starbucks or coffee truck variety to which she was accustomed.

Maria nodded. “Maybe he gets done and the house will sell at the same time.” She was prepping ribs with a sweet-smelling marinade. Abby’s nose was tingling with all the new Caribbean spice smells assailing her senses.

She chewed her muffin thoughtfully, almost with a deliberate slowness because she was tired of speaking. “Maria, is Ben going to be okay with me staying with him? I would
not
want a ‘me’ living in my house if I were a Ben.”

Maria’s laugh resonated through the room again. “Abby! Trust me. Tonight you two will have dinner and get to know each other. Ziggy is going to drop you off at Ricky’s down the street. It’s close and it’s quiet. Rum punch and dinner make people happy. You and Ben are gonna be just fine.”

“Oh I get it, you want me to just get really drunk every night so I don’t care where I sleep, right?”

“No, girl. No. Your family raised you better than that. Now, you just help me get this place ready today. We keep you busy so you’re not idle, okay?”

Abby ignored the family comment, especially since the way she felt about Leigh at the present moment was not familial at all.

“I’ll be glad to help. Just please make sure to shield me when Ben comes in and unleashes the anger of the gods this way . . . Okay? Have him know it’s not my fault?”

“Girl! Go get changed!” Maria was laughing and shooing her out.

“Just one thing . . . Ziggy’s accent is Kittian. But yours, it’s different. Where are you from, Maria?”

Maria and Abby locked eyes, and there was trust. Not that Abby could pinpoint the moment and say it then, but she felt good with Maria. “My mom was from London, and my dad was Kittian. I grew up in the U.S.”

Maria began to speak, but once again stopped herself. “Just clear out of your room quick and I get Ziggy to put your bags out in the pool house. Guests come and so do Ben soon. We deal with each one as it happens.” Maria started chopping some green onions very efficiently and with purpose. “First, we need to change sheets, open windows, fresh flowers in rooms. You need to be calling the roof repairmen so dey come dis week and get started. Lots to do!”

Abby could tell she would get nothing else out of Maria until later, and she honestly wanted some busy work to help her sort through all of the mixed feelings she had at the moment.
Maybe jumping right in with repairs and doing some cleaning will help me unleash some of this irritation inside,
Abby thought.
I can scrub some tile and pretend it’s Leigh’s face.
She watched Maria as she began chopping some celery and onion together. The way she moved was fluid and poetic. She was about to leave the room when Maria called after her:

“And, Abby. There is a lot to know here about a lot that you may not know. You can’t be having expectations, girl. None. Day-by-day. Just remember, you are always taken care of.”

Abby started to open her mouth to ask what it was Maria still needed to tell her, but Maria was chopping furiously. As if she had eyes in the back of her head, she waved her right hand over her shoulder toward Abby as if to say, “Get out.”