Rum Punch Regrets (6 page)

CHAPTER FOUR

The slam of the front door woke Abby from her drunken slumber
.
She shot up, hitting her head on the corner of an old wooden bookshelf that was jutting ever so slightly from the wall. She couldn’t understand who was in her home making noise at this hour and wondered how they got in. As the pain welled in her brain, reality began to make its way through the foggy, hungover gray matter. She was not in her home tucked in her comfy bed in Los Angeles, but on an air mattress in an alcove of a stranger’s house in the Caribbean. She wanted to puke. It was hot, and it was really early. The kind of early where the sun is not even up yet.

The sound of a car starting outside snapped her to the present.
That’s Ben,
she thought.
School. And thank GOD he decided to slam the door so damn loud.
As she surveyed the looks of the living room from her perch in the alcove, a smell penetrated her olfaction and turned her stomach into knots. Ammonia? Or crap?

Surveying the lay of the land from the floor, she looked over and realized there were two cats glaring in her direction from the kitchen table.
That’s the smell -- freaking litter box hasn’t been changed since who knows when,
she thought.
Great.

The two kitties were stretched lazily on their sides, almost spooning each other. One was all black and the other was a black and white mix. Lazy and long, the two took turns -- as one was cleaning the other’s ears and face, the other would watch Abby.

Abby stretched and slowly began to rise, even though her pounding head begged her to stay in a prone position on the floor. She stumbled to the kitchen, searching the cabinets for a glass. This proved to be tougher than she thought, as most of them had a film of dirt on them. She dry-heaved slightly as she noticed there were ants swarming the sink around what appeared to be an old bagel.

She finally found a package of plastic party cups (hmmmm . . . the college life) and, without paying much attention, turned on the faucet to fill up her glass. She was concentrating on the banging in her brain and the fact that she needed more sleep as she tossed back the water that was --

Oh my GOD! Am I chewing my water?!

Abby hung her head over the sink and spit out the water as if she were releasing a demon. Looking in the sink, she saw a few weird chunks of dirt, but it wasn’t until she turned the faucet on again that she could plainly see that this was not the best drinking water. Holding on to the side of the counter, she looked at the cats lounging on the table and could swear they were laughing at her
. Furry little jerks,
she thought snappishly.

There has to be water I can drink,
she thought as she fumbled around the kitchen. Opening the fridge, Abby found -- voila! -- a whole crisper full of bottled water. You would have thought she had just won the lottery the way she grabbed the water and gulped it, devouring it as if it were liquid life. As she stood there letting the cool air of the fridge hit her legs, she took a mental inventory of its contents.

There was a package of Oscar Mayer bologna, various condiments, some kind of green vegetable, a packet of American cheese, some bread, full-fat mayo, and some milk. The milk, when she looked at it closer, was in chunks and the expiration date had passed about a month prior. Abby envisioned a trip to the grocery store in her immediate future.

She closed the door and looked at the cats, which were following her every move.
Weirdos
, she thought.
Quit eyeing me.
The room was silent, the hum of a box fan playing in the background like ambiance for a spa. First things first, Abby needed to get some coffee and then figure out the grocery store.

She pulled her long mane of chestnut-colored hair back, wrapping it into a bun, changed into a miniskirt and her favorite comfy shirt, grabbed another bottle of water and headed to the main house to see if Maria could point out the directions to the grocery store. Luckily, when she let herself into the kitchen, Maria was hovering over the stovetop. The smell of fresh coffee permeated the air and beckoned like a porch light on a dark night calling out for Abby to come to safety. Or at least to a kitchen that was stocked.

“Morning, girl! How you feeling today?” Maria was grinning from ear to ear and Abby could only guess that Ziggy had already relayed her drunken evening to Maria.

Well,
she thought,
every town needs a crier. Guess I’m here to be the village idiot.

“I’ve felt better, that’s for sure. And the lack of things one needs to survive in that place,” she nodded toward the pool house, “is killing me. Please tell me there’s some kind of breakfast or that I can mooch some coffee?”

Maria was already pouring a cup of coffee for Abby. She put the mug down in front of her, along with a plate of homemade scones, scooping up containers of some sugar and creamer for her, too.

“Here you go. So, the real estate agent stopped by with some folks looking at the property. They are going over the grounds with me and Ziggy today so they get an idea of how the place works.” Maria was studying Abby’s face to make sure she was taking in all Maria was putting out. “Hopefully Buddy will be able to fix the roof, and quick.”

“Yeah, as long as Buddy shows up.” Abby took a sip of her coffee. “I think he is on what Ziggy called ‘island time,’ Maria. And I get the feeling that means he’ll be here when he gets here.”

“I have Ziggy going to the store later to stock up on supplies and food, as the boat be coming in today. I’ll have him go by and talk to Buddy’s wife.” Maria winked at Abby. “She gonna make sure Buddy is here when he supposed to be. Anyway, we have some guests arriving over the next few days, so we got to get crackin’. As for the store, get a list together and I can have him get you some things, too, unless you want to go with him?”

“As tempting as it sounds, I think I may opt to just hand him a list and some cash today, Maria. There are a few things I need to figure out here, like Internet, cable, phone, ants . . . ”

“Abby. The Internet is good here -- we got wireless.” She winked at Abby.

“I’m impressed. Cable?”

“You get the channels that count.”

“Okay. Leigh also mentioned I should get an island cell?”

“Yep. The store in Basseterre has it. You get a phone, and you pay as you call. Ziggy can drop you in town so you can go in and get one. Better yet, let me look around and see if we have a spare one here. Sometimes Leigh leaves them for guests.”

“Leigh leaves her phones for guests? Maria, I don’t think I’m going to get used to this life where Leigh is a double agent.”

“Abby --” Maria sat at the table with her own mug of coffee and patted her hand -- “sometimes we do things that we wait to tell people why later. It’s Leigh’s life, not yours. So really, it’s none of your business.”

Abby sipped from her mug, helping herself to a scone. Chewing thoughtfully, she looked over at Maria and nodded.

“I know, Maria. It’s her life and none of my business. Except by asking me to come down here and tend to all this for her, she’s kind of made this my business.”

Maria smiled, took another sip of her coffee and leaned forward to grab Abby’s hand.

“Abby, people can be strange. Sometimes, our family? Well, they are the strangest of all. They do things to tell on themselves. Leigh is your family, Abby. We all love our family, but you don’t have to like them.”

Abby stared at Maria after the last sentence. Obviously, she did know Leigh, and well, since that was a phrase her family had used for years and years. Abby could still remember the day she first heard it. One of Leigh’s boys had said it in a fit of anger, and it made Leigh and Abby laugh so hard that they used it now to describe almost everything, especially the way a family loves.

And Maria. There’s something so comfortable in this space with her.
Abby couldn’t understand why she was okay with how close Maria had gotten to her in just a few days’ time. With all the touching and the patting, Abby forgot that she was a creature who enjoyed her personal space. Yet, here she was, opening herself to this strange woman with the golden heart and wise words.

Abby traced the rim of her mug with her forefinger and had a flashback to her last day of work, when she was laid off. She smiled into the depths of her coffee, like a seer looking into the fountain of truth.
If only I could see the future . . .

As if reading her mind, Maria squeezed her free hand. “Abby, no one knows what’s in store as our days go on. Just be in this moment right now. Girl, you are on an island. How many people can say that they are on an island in the middle of the Caribbean because they can be?”

That made Abby laugh, and she toasted the air with her mug.

“You win, Maria. You win.” She pushed back from the table and grabbed another scone for the walk back across the lawn. “Maria, will you please ask Ziggy to take me with him when he goes to the store? It’s time I took my day by the balls.”

Maria hooted with laughter and nodded, shooing Abby out of the room.

“Dat’s it, girl! Go get on your bathing suit and embrace it. You’re on St. Kitts!”

#

The grocery store, Grimms, was bustling for a weekday morning. The aisles were being “filled wit’ new product, fresh off da boat, mon!” as Ziggy had told Abby. People were lining up to get their supplies before they ran out. It was a menagerie of locals, students and tourists all jammed into one small store with an even smaller parking lot.

There were only two stores on the island, and with the lack of a Target or Wal-Mart, Abby knew she needed to stock up now. Ziggy had told her that if she did not hit one of the stores on the days the boats came in with the supplies, then she would, for lack of a better term, be screwed.

Abby tooled up and down the aisles, grabbing staples and trying to think of foods she could get for Ben as well. Pasta, chips and pretzels, tuna fish, all kinds of frozen meats, cookies and breads, sodas and beer. She made sure to get an equal amount of healthy and unhealthy foods to use as her peace offering for invading his home. Oh, and puking in front of him on the first night they met. Ever the planner, she’d already made out a menu of meals she could make and have available to him all week so he wouldn’t have to worry about food.
Crap, he could be a vegetarian!
Abby thought, so she made sure to grab some veggie burgers from the frozen food section and some cheese pizzas as well.

When checking out, Abby almost pooped herself when the woman asked her for $655.

“Are you KIDDING me? I’m not investing in the store or buying stock. I only got some staples!”

The woman looked at Abby like she had two heads. “You don’t be havin’ any staples here, girl. Dey over in aisle tree.”

“Not staples . . .
staples
.” The woman stared blankly at Abby. Abby stared blankly back. She felt a twinge of frustration begin to play in her stomach. Abby also wanted to make her say “three” with her ten times over until she pronounced the
h
.

“Oh, whatever. Look, $655 is steep, don’t you think? I might have just gotten here, but I know when someone is trying to rip me off. Can we please look at the cost again?”

The woman rolled her eyes. Obviously, customer service was not a strong suit for Grimms.

“It’s $655. That would be in EC.”

Abby was confused. She thought she was on St. Kitts. “Where is EC?” she asked, biting back her irritation at the game this woman was playing with her.

The woman took a big breath and rolled her eyes. Again.

“EC, Eastern Caribbean. It’s our money here. It’s what you owe. You pay or you leave. Either way, I don’t care. I’m not the one that is needin’ to be eatin’,” she said tersely.

“Oh.” Abby felt her face go flush with embarrassment
.
“Uh . . . do you take credit cards?”

The woman nodded, and Abby handed over her Visa. As she looked up, she noticed the Captain from last night, Cutty, talking to Ziggy. He was smiling at her and making throw-up motions.

“What are you? Like fifty years old and you act like a teenage boy?” She signed her credit slip and was pushing her cart over to meet Ziggy, hoping to leave before this heathen sucked them into a conversation.

“I’m actually thirty-five. I just look fifty because I don’t wash my makeup off before bed,” he drawled. He smiled and nodded at her cart. “Groceries?”

“Observant. I see why you’re in charge of driving a boat and taking people out to sea for diving. Let me guess, you probably drink the whole way out to the dive site?”

Ziggy laughed at that. “No, mon, he only drink when dey go under if he ain’t leading da dive. Or smoke his Mary Jane.”

Abby stared at them both in horror. “I’m leaving. You --” she pointed at Cutty -- “disturb me.”

“Then we should get married now, ’cause I think I’m in love.” He wiggled his overgrown eyebrows at Abby and smiled wickedly. Abby could not help but find she was smiling at this man, in all of his irritating glory.

“I have food that may thaw in this heat. Ziggy, can we please go?” Abby asked as sweetly as she could muster.

“Tell you what, Abby-cakes. You take those groceries home then come for happy hour. My treat,” Cutty offered, putting his hand out for her to shake.

“I can’t, but thank you. I have things that need to be done today. Lots of things. Things that if I don’t --”

He held his hand up. “Just say no if you don’t want to, but I doubt you have things to do.”

“But I do! I have to make my list when I go home and --”

“And what? What’s going to be on it? Let me guess: ‘To Do Today. Number One: Get up. Number Two: Buy groceries. Number Three: Put groceries away. Number Four: Annoy Ben by being around too much. Number --”

“I get it. Just stop,” Abby begged.

Why not?
she thought.
It’s not like I have a lot to do today, and the repairmen aren’t due for another day or two. So, one day at happy hour with this insane man would be fine.