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“You’re right. Thatisall that matters.”
“So you’re going to be okay here with Al, right?”
I nod.
“Good.” She glances at her watch. “I need to get ready for dinner. I have to look hot for my man.”
It’s barely two in the afternoon, but who am I to argue? I make my way to my room, grabbing a book that I’d packed the first time I came to visit. It’s a romance novel, and that’s what I need right now. I change into my black one-piece swimsuit and put my blue cover over it. There are lounge chairs with half-umbrellas over them outside, and that’s where I’m going to hang out until everyone leaves.
Thankfully, I don’t pass anyone as I make my way outside. All the lounge chairs are empty, so I pick the one furthest from the house. The way the chair is facing, I’m protected from the sun and have a beautiful view of the ocean. Opening the book, I let myself get lost in a book where the hero would never cheat on the heroine. And the heroine would never betray her freaking best friend.
I must doze off because something shaking my foot wakes me. Al is standing above me, grinning sheepishly.
“I hated to wake you, but I don’t want you to burn.”
Glancing down, I see my legs are pink.
“Crap! I didn’t mean to go to sleep. Thanks for waking me.”
He sits in the chair next to me. “No problem. It was getting boring in there, so I decided to see what you were up to. I’m glad I did.”
“Has everyone already left?”
“Yeah, about half an hour ago.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you up there alone.”
“No, I get it. Dru is a pain in the ass. I’d be out here, too, but her husband it a nice guy.”
I snort. “Yeah. Her twin is worse.”
“There’s two of them? No way!”
“Dru and Stasia, also known as my worst nightmares growing up.”
And their mother, but I don’t add that part.
“Like I mentioned the other night, I’m an only child, which is good, since my folks couldn’t afford to feed me half of the time.”
He says it casually, as if it doesn’t bother him, but I can tell by the distant look in his eyes that it does bother him. Understandably so. A child wants to feel safe and loved. I can relate to that better than anyone.
I ask, “Are they still around?”
“No, they died when I was eighteen.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I wish I could say I was. I believe in karma, and they got theirs.” A dark look crosses his face so fast that I think I imagine it.
“My mom died when I was nine, and then my dad when I was eleven.”
“That really stinks. I’m sorry.”
I am too. Sometimes I wonder how my life would have ended up if they were both alive. It’s a torturous game that only leads to heartache.
I say, “Enough sad talk. What do you like to do for fun?”
He smiles. “Sit with pretty girls on the beach, of course.”
