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I pull a hurricane glass, then pause. “You mean a blue Hawaii, then?”
I realize my mistake when Ensley snaps, “I think Tillie knows her drinks.”
My forehead beads with sweat. A blue Hawaiian has coconut crème, and a blue Hawaii doesn’t. I can’t mix the wrong thing and make this sister angrier than she already is.
Is this a test? And if so, what’s the right answer?
But Tillie sees my distress. “He makes La Jarra versions of some drinks.” She gets up and circles the hut to come in through the back. “Make a mermaid sunrise. I bet it’s her new favorite. I’ll do the blue Hawaii as a backup.”
She says it correctly this time, and I get it. Ensley has misunderstood the drink somewhere along the way, and Tillie won’t correct her.
I pull bottles, feeling the eyes of the entire group on me. The men with the La Jarra boilermakers talk among themselves, oblivious to the drama unfolding on the other side of the hut.
I layer the mermaid drink, occasionally glancing at Tillie.
“That’s so pretty,” Lila exclaims. “Look, Rosie! It’s a rainbow.”
Despite me having layers and Tillie having a simple mix, I finish first. I push the drink before Ensley.
“I’ll wait for the blue Hawaiian,” she says. She’s going hard core.
Tillie stirs the drink but doesn’t give it to her sister. “Not until you try the mermaid.”
“Fine.” Ensley takes a sip. Her eyes widen, but then she catches herself. “It’s all right.”
Tillie can barely hold back her laugh. “It’sfine. Best drink on the island, and the most beautiful.” She passes the second drink to her sister. “But it’sfine.”
Drew places his hands on Ensley’s shoulders. “Did you win the cocktail challenge, Tillie?”
“I did. But this mermaid beat my layered drink. And mine hadchocolate.”
Two women in red hats are sitting down as she says it. “A drink with chocolate?” one asks. “I’ll have that.”
“Coming right up,” Tillie says. She pulls more bottles.
“Do you really have to work right now?” Ensley asks. But she keeps drinking from the mermaid.
“I like it,” Tillie says. “Better than arguing with you.”
I’m guessing dinner didn’t go well, so I stay quiet as Tillie starts making her dark-layered drink.
Ensley stares me down. “So, what are your intentions, Gabe?”
“Ensley!” Tillie says. “Nobody needs intentions! And why aren’t you askingme? Maybe I’m the one forcing myself on this poor, unsuspecting man!”
That quiets everyone. The two red-hat women exchange a glance.
“We’re dating,” Tillie tells them, sinking a square of chocolate into the glass. “My big sister doesn’t like it.”
“I’m her big sister,” one of the hat-women says, pointing to the other. “So I understand.”
The other one leans forward. “And so do I.”
“That’s on the house,” Tillie tells her, and sets the glass in front of the older of the two sisters.
Ensley shoves a loose piece of hair out of her eye. “And this big sister thinks it’s unwise to get hot and heavy with someone on vacation. Someone she’ll never see again.”
“You mean this hot hunk of muscle here?” the older hat-sister asks. “I say go for it.”
