Rum Punch Regrets (7 page)

“Okay, Cutty. What time is happy hour at Ricky’s?”

“All day.”

“No, really.”

“All day.”

“I want to hit you,” Abby said unapologetically.

“I want you to hit me. I’m into that.” Cutty grinned.

Abby shook her head, which seemed to be her new trait these days, and said, “I’ll be there around 4 p.m.”

Cutty nodded and grabbed his bag of groceries. “Good. Bring some playing cards. I think I burned the ones from last night.” As an afterthought, he yelled over his shoulder, “And some cigarettes. I like Camel Filters.”

And with that, he shuffled out the door of Grimms and began his walk back to Ricky’s.

Ziggy and Abby got in his taxi and headed back to La Cantina to unload. She used this time to ask Ziggy questions about the captain with an affinity for Camel filtered smokes, alcohol and the “Mary Jane.”

“Cutty? He been here for at least fifteen years. Maybe longer. Some say he was running from da mob back den. Miss C. says he just came and decided he wanted to be on the island, and the IRS wanted him.”

“So, no one really knows his whole story?”

“Abby, this is why so may people like to come to de islands. You can come here and start over. No one knows who dey were in de other lives they have before dey get to us. St. Kitt’s was de island where some people in da witness protection program would come many, many, many years ago. Den someone ran his mouth too much and dey figured it out. Mob showed up and dis guy and his big Cadillac he had shipped here? Dey was found at da bottom of a cliff on da other side of the island. So now, we just an island that people like to come to for vacation. Because you can go divin’ and snorkel and be like us.” He grinned widely. “You get to be Kittian. You get to lime.”

Abby was slowly falling in like with Ziggy. It seemed Abby was the one with the knack of judging people not in the best light. She smiled warmly at her new buddy. “By the way, Ziggy, what the heck do you mean when you keep talking about liming?”

“To lime is ‘to be.’ When we just hangin’ out and chillin’? Dat’s limin’, girl. Limin’ is not an activity, it’s a practice.”

“I always thought it meant you guys wanted to go pick limes,” Abby said through her laughter.

“You Americans find it hard to do. Lime. Just be. Dere is no need to get ahead here. We just like to wake up and have life, make some money to get our food and pay our bills. But it’s life we love. It’s de limin’ dat makes it all balance.”

That makes sense. And obviously something I need more of,
Abby thought.
Balance.

As they pulled into the driveway, Maria came strolling up to the cab to meet them and help unload the groceries. Ziggy hopped out of the car and grabbed his woman by the waist and spun her around in the middle of the yard. This took her by surprise, but she was laughing and enjoying the moment with her husband. Abby felt a little knock on her heart as she realized that these two were probably one of the happiest and most connected couples she had seen in such a long time
. It must be ’cause they take the time to lime together,
she thought.
Something more people need to do, I guess.

“
Leigh called while you were out, Abby,” Maria said as she was reaching into the cab to get some bags.

“Really? What did she say?”

“For you to go get a damn cell phone so she could call you,” Maria countered.

“I would, but I thought you were going to try to find me a damn cell phone in the house.” Abby winked at Ziggy as she teased his wife.

“I will, I will. As soon as I put away the groceries, make us some dinner and then get the meals prepped for tomorrow . . . oh, and finish the laundry, I’ll be glad to take a moment to search to find you a cell phone,” was Maria’s sarcastic comeback.

Abby was still laughing at Maria’s last zing when Ben came zooming into the driveway. He parked, nodded at the small group and rushed inside the pool house.

Abby turned to Maria and commented, “Well, that wasn’t awkward at all, huh?”

“Time, Abby. Give it some time.” Maria’s smile was all-knowing and brighter than the blazing Caribbean sun. “He’s a good boy, and you are a good girl. Eventually, this is gonna work out. You’ll see.” She shared a secret wink with Abby and then helped Ziggy begin the task of unloading the cab.

Abby entered the pool house expecting Ben to be in the living room. But he must have gone straight to his room because he was nowhere on the first floor, as far as she could see. Abby sighed and headed into the kitchen to unload her wares.

As she was bent over in the fridge, a voice behind her broke the stillness of the room.

“How are you feeling today?”

Abby turned around and faced Ben. She shrugged her shoulders and grinned.

“I’d be lying if I said I felt like I could run a race. You?”

“Not bad. I have to rush back now to help with some animals in the barn.” Ben was watching her unpack the groceries in mild fascination. “I have a donkey.”

Abby, still putting groceries away and trying to play it cool, asked, “Donkey? There’s a reason you wanted to share that?”

Ben looked at her like she had just asked him how many feet it was to the moon. Then he realized she was genuinely asking him what he meant.

“I forget that not everyone around here knows about vet school. We get an animal that we monitor during the semester. My lab partner and I have a donkey. I have to get up early to go take care of him, and now I have to rush back to S.O.A.P. him.”

“You go to school to learn how to wash ass?” Abby was fighting the urge to laugh in his sweet little face.

“No, Abby,” Ben was showing his frustration now. “SOAP-ing stands for ‘Subjective, Objective, Assessment, and Plan.’ You take vitals and monitor the animals.”

“Ahh, okay. Shit I don’t know. Or, S.I.D.K., as I like to say.”

“I think you’re being facetious.”

“I think you just used a big word. Nonetheless, you are correct, sir.” Abby curtseyed and grabbed the plastic bags the groceries had come in. “Where should I put these?”

“The bags?”

“No, the air around me. Yes, Ben, the bags. Do you keep them or recycle them?”

Ben looked more than a little confused. “I usually don’t have the time nor the money to get that many groceries at once. I guess you can put them under the sink?”

“Good place to start.” Abby put them away, asking over her shoulder, “What do you mean you don’t usually have time to get groceries?”

“I’m always in class. In my free time I play volleyball, I run, I study. Or I go to the beach or out with friends. Not to the grocery store.”

“So, none of the delicious food I got that is totally and completely fit for college-student eating interests you?” Abby asked.

“Well, I’m not saying that . . . ”

Abby gave Ben her warmest smile. “Anything I picked up today, I want you to please help yourself to. I wanted peace offerings, and I hope this helps some.”

“Thanks, Abby. That’s pretty cool,” Ben said as he started to rifle through the fridge. He grabbed a cheese stick, and his eyes lit up when he saw steaks in the freezer.

“You cook?” he asked, surprised.

“Not great, but I get by. I’m sure if you wanted me to try to make you something, I could pass with an attempt.”

Things seem to be going well,
Abby thought.
It’s like a dance or a first date. Time for me to pull away and prove to him I’m easy to live with.

“Okay, then. I’m going to clean up a little and then go --”

Ben looked mortified. “Clean? You don’t need to do that.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I really don’t mind.”

Abby’s last sentence fell on deaf ears. Ben was shaking his head and Abby could swear he was playing with his fingers again, using
her
signature nervous move.

“I guess I need to be clearer right now.
Don’t
do that.”

It was Abby’s turn to look mortified. Was Ben telling her not to clean?
But,
she thought,
I bought litter for the cats . . .

“I kind of thought it might be nice to -- I don’t know. Sweep, dust, maybe straighten up?” Ben’s face was twisted in emotion and it was freaking Abby out. Uh-oh, she thought she saw the green creeping its way into those brown eyes again, the way it had the night before when he’d gotten angry with her. “Ben, all I want to do is make it so the common area smells nice and I can hang in it.”

Ben’s lips were pulled tight. Abby could tell his wheels were spinning.

“Abby. Things are organized here in such a way that I know where they are for when I need them. It’s my stuff in my place. Like the books over there.” He pointed to a shelf on the far wall, near Abby’s bed. It was dusty and very obviously handmade. A few boards on cinder blocks, actually. Books were piled on top of one another and there were stacks of papers scattered on all the shelves, and some under it, covering the floor. “I know what’s there, and what’s not supposed to be. I’ve placed term papers and tests in spots where I can pull them out for studying. If I screw up at all this semester, I’m out. My career is over.” He looked very serious as he pointedly said, “Do
not
clean my home.”

This was a new twist. And it would be an issue.

Abby searched for the right words and hoped that whatever came out of her mouth sounded the way she meant it to.

“Ben, I get that there are things here I shouldn’t touch. But, to not clean? For one thing, here’s a litter box next to my bed that needs some serious attention.”

Ben stared at Abby so hard it began to feel really awkward. Finally he spoke. “Fine. I will get the litter box and clean it out, but please let me handle anything else that is mine. I have too many papers here for school that I need to know where they are and too many projects to have you mess up the way I have things organized.”

This made more sense to Abby, and she realized he wasn’t just being a douchebag but he was being a territorial guy who just wanted to take care of his own home. She acknowledged it to herself, then realized she had said this out loud to Ben.

“Well, that makes a little more sense! You’re just being territorial. Okay…”
Uh-oh.

“The fact that you want to clean my home makes no sense. You’re being a knob-head.” Ben combed his fingers through his hair in frustration. “And of course I’m being territorial! You just got here and you’re trying to take over my home. Look, I know you mean well, but . . . Well, no. Just no. Don’t clean my house. I’ll clean out the litter box and take care of my things my way. You’ll just have to deal with it.”

“You are so oddly passive-aggressive, do you know that?”

“I’m passive-aggressive? You’re neurotic and passive-aggressive!”

Abby flinched slightly. “I’m neurotic? Maybe you should go and take a good long look in the mirror. Get an idea of who truly is the poster boy for neurosis!”

“Really? I’m pretty sure I’m looking at the poster girl right now!”

“For God’s sake, Ben. We’re not a couple moving in together. It’s a weird merging of two people that kind of need to make it work or both of them will be screwed.”

“That’s my point, Abby. We’re not a couple moving in together. I don’t know you.”

Abby was beyond frustrated now. “Ben, I can’t argue like this. I’m not made for it. Have a great rest of your day.” With that, Abby grabbed her purse and walked out of the pool house, slamming the door behind her.

She wasn’t sure where to go, so she just started walking. When she reached the end of the driveway, she realized a drink would be good to have right then and decided to go have one with the mildly irritating Captain. Maybe he could take Abby’s mind off her living situation with his oddness. Someone like him was bound to have good stories, or at least could make some up.

She was sweating bullets when she finally got to Ricky’s. It wasn’t a far walk, but the heat was insane and made her thirst for any kind of cold beverage. Sitting at one of the outside patio tables smoking a cigarette and drinking his Carib was Cutty. He smiled a big grin and called out to Abby.

“Well, you made it for happy hour.” The Captain pointed at an imaginary watch on his arm. “Lucky for you, it just started.”

Abby laughed and pulled out a chair to fall into. “I thought you said happy hour was all day, Cutty.”

“That’s what I meant. It just started --” he winked at her -- “this morning. What are you drinking?”

“Anything cold, and with a double shot. I need to make the last hour go away.”

“How can you be in a foul mood? You just got here.” Cutty was already walking to the bar to get her a cocktail. His T-shirt was tattered and faded, with the emblem of a university long since washed-out on the front, obviously a hand-me-down from one of the students, and he was wearing board shorts. As he ordered her drink, Abby found herself wondering if he had skin cancer, because there was no way he used lotion with SPF in it, judging by the dark brown color of his skin.

“I did just get here, but Ben is not making it easy on me to get settled in,” she sighed. He plopped her rum punch down in front of her, and she took it like a baby grabbing a milk bottle. In fact, Abby drank it in one gulp.

Cutty took her empty cup and went back to the bar to get her another one. He didn’t seem like a bad guy, just lonely. He got the bartender -- today it was a man named Mikey -- to make her a new drink. Mikey smiled at Abby and added a little extra rum.

“You here to have a date with this one today, girl?” Mikey asked Abby.

“Oh sweet lord no. Just drinks. And the way I’m feeling, there may be a few.”

Cutty looked miffed at her comment. “‘Sweet lord no’? RUFKM?”

“Are you speaking in text, Cutty? Or do you go SOAP with the students, too?” Abby stated with genuine surprise at Cutty’s comment.

“No, I don’t SOAP with those losers.” He grinned. “And, yes. RUFKM means ‘Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?’”

Cutty then crinkled his eyes and looked at Abby very seriously.

“Look, Ben’s a good kid. You have to understand his situation,” Cutty began. Abby, though, was on the defensive and she stopped him short.