Rum Punch Regrets (11 page)

Regretfully, she looked at J.D, showing him her phone.

“I’m sorry, but I have to take this. I’ve been waiting for this call.”

“Of course.” J.D. smiled at Abby, sucking her in with the sexiness of his crooked grin. “I’m staying here on the island for a bit. At the Frigate Beach Hotel, above Ricky’s, actually. You?”

The phone was lighting up, signaling Leigh’s presence even from miles away. Abby was feeling a bit of pressure and needed to handle this call now, but felt torn because she wanted to stay with J.D.

“I’m uh . . . at a bed-and-breakfast not too far from Ricky’s.” She showed him the phone in all of its lit-up glory once more. “I’m so sorry . . . Can I take a rain check?”

He nodded, smiling at her as she stood to go. As she was walking away, she felt his eyes boring into her. She turned around to smile, but he was already by her side.

“Tomorrow. Midday, lunchtime. Ricky’s Café . . . will you meet me?”

Something told her she shouldn’t, but she decided she would . . . and was actually thinking of saying no but realized her head had already nodded yes. As she was whispering yes slowly, he leaned in and kissed her cheek, sending a flood of warmth all through her body. She hit the talk button on the mobile just so she could break the spell.

“Hello? Leigh?”

Abby was straining to hear over the noise around her.

“Well, there’s a voice I haven’t heard in ages. How do you like St. Kitts?”

Abby wasn’t sure if she wanted to cry, laugh or shout when she heard her sister’s voice.

“Where do I start? Leigh, there is so much to talk about. You’ve caught me at Pirate’s Bay with Ben.”

Leigh hesitated slightly on the other end.

“You’re out with Ben?”

“Well, yes. He’s finally being nice to me. Well, as of today he is. Of course,” Abby added in an attempt at being humorous, “when dealing with someone who is possibly bipolar, one must expect the days to be up and down. Honestly, Leigh, it could go one way or the other with him.”

Abby heard a slow breath being let out on the other end of the line.

“I’m glad it’s easier now. I figured if you knew you’d have to share a home with someone during all of this, there was no way I’d get you to go down there.”

“Well, you were right.” Abby sat quietly for a second, deciding that maybe now wasn’t the time to launch into her sis. “It’s been tough, but we’ll see. Anyway, how are you? Everyone here seems happy and the repairs are flowing right along.”
Except for the part where one of the bathrooms now has the best view the outdoors can offer.

“Maria said you’ve been a great help to her. With you doing things around the inn, she is able to actually help with the sale now.”

Okay, good, Abby thought. Nice call. Good discussion. Maybe I can ask her . . .

“When are we going to talk about the fact that you own a bed-and-breakfast, Leigh?”

Abby could feel a palpable tension coursing through her over the airwaves. “Eventually. I want to explain all of it to you, and I will. It just has to wait until some other cards are played out. The less you know, the better, at least for the time being. Daryl is already overly suspicious of why I have you on St. Kitts. I told him you’re down there acting as administrative assistant while a hybridizer gets his greenhouse set up.”

Abby could hear Leigh blowing out smoke from a cigarette on the other end. Both George girls had a knack for picking up cigarettes when they were stressed.

“You’re stressed. You’re smoking.”

“No, I’m not.”

“I can hear you blowing the smoke out.”
I’d be stressed, too, if all I did was lie
, Abby thought.

There was another exhale sound on the end of the line, but quieter.

“No, I’m not. Must be the steel drums in your ears. And you’re one to talk.”

“I’ve actually quit. Not having a job makes you rethink what you’re spending.” Abby wanted to steer the conversation back. “Leigh, are you sure you don’t want to talk about it? And by it, I mean, why you wouldn’t tell me about La Cantina being an inn?”

The quiet was deafening for Abby, even though she was in the middle of a bar with music and chatter all around her. Leigh was still holding something back, but knowing her like she did, there was no use in trying to get it out of her.

“Not yet. Just know I only do things because I have a plan.”

A plan.
Abby rolled her eyes at the thought.

“Okay, Leigh. Anyway, am I going to get to go back into the main house again at all? It’s just really tight in the pool house, and Ben needs to pass his last semester . . . ”

Leigh cut Abby off rather abruptly. “I am more than aware of Ben’s needs, Abby. He emailed me that you were making the first few weeks quite difficult for him to get his studying done. What were you thinking? Turning the TV up so loud he couldn’t study? Abby, you need to be the adult here.”

“What are you talking about?” Abby was honestly confused.

“Abby, his hours are rough for him. He’s training, well
schooling
,
to be a vet. This costs money.” More silence, then she continued, “He said you were complaining about his getting up early and rustling around?”

“Maybe he meant when he slams the doors at 6:30 a.m.?”

“Either way, it’s apparent that you guys are the Odd Couple, at least from what he’s been saying in his emails to me.”

Unbelievable.
Ben had been emailing her sister telling her it was Abby behind all of the living issues. She was watching Ben dance in the middle of a circle of ladies while Leigh went on to berate her.

“I need for
you
to be the adult, Abby. I want to put you back in the main house, but you need to be in the pool house for the time being. If there is a chance I can rent any rooms out, I need to take it. Ben now understands this and has agreed to be a little more . . . how do I say this? . . . forgiving of the circumstances. So, now, you need to be the one to strap on your boots and make it work.”

Abby could not believe what she was hearing.
This explains the change in Ben’s demeanor. Leigh must have spoken to him and was probably paying him off to help “take care” of me.
She wanted to scream, “You are being played!” to her sister, but refrained.

Abby felt the rage coursing through her body. She was still watching Ben as he danced around, toasting his friends from the rugby team. It was during one of these dance-toast maneuvers that he aimed his beer bottle in the air in a toast across the beach to Abby. Against her better judgment, she smiled a tight, “up yours” smile and raised her glass as well.

“Abby? Are you there?” Leigh was piping up again in her ear.

“Oh yeah,” Abby retorted. “I’m here.” There was no way she could let this fall to the side. Abby fired back, “You have been M.I.A., Leigh, at least to me. You have no idea what I’ve been dealing with down here with dear, young Ben. The fact that you would take his side without even speaking with me? It’s beyond reason. He’s a renter, for Pete’s sake.” Remembering the book she had found earlier in the day, she added for effect, “And I think he may be trying to steal from you!”

“Steal from me? Steal what, Abby?”

Abby was flustered. She honestly wasn’t sure, but she was sure that she was really mad at Ben. “I found your book, the one from Dad,
The Great Gatsby
. Ben had it shoved in with his things. There were some pictures, too. Leigh, I really think --”

“Abby. You think Ben is stealing from me? I’m sorry, but not Ben. I’ve never had problems from him. Ever.”

Abby couldn’t believe it. Her sister didn’t believe her. “Leigh, I tell you I think he’s stealing from you, and I find what is evidence and . . . Fine. Where’s your book, Leigh?”

Leigh was quick to stop Abby here. “I won’t hear any more of this. It’s petty, Abby. Be an adult. Stop behaving like a child.”

“Where’s your book, Leigh? And why are some of your things stored here? Did he swipe them, too?”

Silence on the other end. “Abby, I’m sure the book is here in the house, in fact I’m 100% sure that it is. I just don’t know where it is among my kids’ things, Daryl’s, your stuff . . . ”

“I know where mine is. I can tell you exactly where it is.”

“Abby, enough! I’m not going to listen to any more of these accusations. Suck it up.”

Abby felt like she had just been backhanded across the face. “But I’m your sister. Why are you not listening to anything I’m saying?”

Even in her pleading, Abby’s argument was falling heavily on deaf ears. The fact that Leigh was not even continuing the conversation told Abby that she had made up her mind already that it was all Abby’s fault.
Why can’t I make her see my side?
she thought sadly.

“Look, Abby, I have to go. Got a meeting in an hour. Just make sure you go easy on him and stay out of the way. You are there with a specific job: to help ready the inn for sale for me. Got it?”

Abby didn’t want to let it go. “But Leigh . . . ”

“Abby. Stop this. Now. Do you hear me?” Leigh spat this out as if she had just eaten a raw piece of meat.

“Loud and clear,” Abby spat back as Leigh disconnected the call.

Abby was still reeling from the conversation when Tracey came bopping over to her spot at the bar, the bonfire silhouetting her frame. There were people everywhere, and it was getting more crowded by the moment. Abby was feeling cornered and irked.

“Hey! Come over here and have a drink with me. I have some friends I want to introduce you to.”

“Tracey, it’s not a good time. In fact --” Abby was gathering her things on the bar -- “I’m going to walk to the Royal Palms Casino and get a cab. I want to go home.”

Tracey stopped her from getting up. “Wait, don’t go yet. It’s a great night to be out. Stay and have fun. Please?”

“I can’t. Just tell Ben I left and I’ll see him either when he comes in and plays his guitar loudly like the drunk asshole he can be or in the morning when he slams the door and it wakes me up, okay?”

Abby grabbed her bag, threw what she thought was some EC down for the bartender and headed up the stretch of dirt road that led to the Royal Palms.

As she marched up the road, Abby was fuming.
So,
she thought
, you emailed my sister. Saying I was causing the problems? Oh, you’ve got another thing coming if you think I’m going to roll over and take this one lying down, Ben!

She was so busy plotting she didn’t hear his feet hitting the ground behind her as he came running up next to her on the path.

“Abby, wait!” He was out of breath when he reached her.

Abby’s eyes were filled with fury as she spun on him and let him have it.

“Wait for what, Ben? For you to do something else to make me feel like crap? Or perhaps you want to email my sister again to tell on me. Does that make you feel better? I’m such an idiot to think that today you were actually being nice to me. You’re an asshole!”

She was still marching up the road, except now Ben was keeping in time with her.

“What are you talking about, Abby? Emailing Leigh?”

Abby stopped and took one of the deep “in through the nose and out through the mouth” breaths that she seemed to do so much.

“Leigh just phoned. Said you had emailed her and told her I was being difficult,” she said as she looked Ben in the eyes. “What I need to know is if there is any inkling of truth to that statement.”

Ben looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. His eyes dropped to the ground, and he wasn’t able to maintain eye contact with Abby.

“Abby, I . . . ”

Abby held up her hand. “No ‘Abby, I . . .’ bullshit! What the hell, Ben? You email my sister with issues that are actually my issues, things I was trying to talk to you about, and say I’m the one causing all the problems? Do you realize she is
my
sister? The person who should be listening to me has now taken the word of a complete stranger. At least a complete stranger to me, and one --” she was wound up and going now -- “who has bipolar tendencies like I would not have ever believed.”

Ben looked like he had been whipped. His face read “I’m sorry,” and he had no fight in his demeanor.

“Abby, I can explain. First, you need to let me apologize. Then, I really want to explain . . . ”

“No, Ben. That’s okay. I don’t think I want an apology or an explanation at this moment. What I want is to go back home and go to sleep on my air mattress. Hopefully, I won’t have to patch another hole in it.”

Ben jerked his head up, grinning. “A-hole?”

Abby saw no humor. “Not ‘a-hole.’ A ripped-open hole from one of the untrimmed claws of your crappy cats. I didn’t mention it because I didn’t want to add one more issue to the Thanksgiving-sized plate of problems we’ve been having. No, I fixed the stupid hole. And kept my mouth shut.”

They had reached the taxi stand at the Royal Palms. Abby was reaching in her purse for her wallet.

“By the way, Ben. That’s what adults do. We keep our mouths shut about the little things and broach the topics of the bigger ones. Not email our landlords to come and help us, please,” she spat at him, taunting him to argue with her. Abby realized that though she was making sense, she was sounding a little childish.

“Please, don’t take a cab. Let me drive you,” Ben offered.

“No.” Abby went up to the counter to make arrangements for her ride.

The man behind the counter eyed her up and down. He had heard Abby and Ben coming in the night before he had seen them. Their argument had been echoing, reverberating off the walls of the condos and hotels in the walkway.

“I know, girl. You want a cab. I hear ya moanin’ about it from over dere,” he said, rolling his eyes at her. “Where you go to?”

Abby told him La Cantina, then asked the fare so she could make sure she had enough EC to pay. One thing she had learned from Cutty and Ziggy was to always pay in EC. Paying in U.S. currency made them think you were a tourist, and some locals loved to overcharge them.

The fare was around 40 EC; Abby went in her purse to get it out and realized she only had 20. She was rustling around in there more when she realized she had overpaid her bill at Pirate’s Bay with EC and U.S. dollars.