The Holiday Package

by Leigh Lennon

  * * *

  In the Grand Cayman’s airport, while I’m attempting to find the part of the airport that would take my ass to the little fucking island with all the iguanas, I pass a man that, in my professional opinion, looks like he’s pure bad news. On his face is a look of absolute resolve, one I know so well. His face has an unmoving stance and when he approaches those in his way, they move for him. Fuck, did I know this type. These are the kind of underhanded men Sylvie would hire when my morals got in the way and the job was too messy for me. Moving out of the way slightly, as though I am grabbing something out of my carry on, I keep my eyes fixed on him. He’s going the same direction as I am, and I wonder if I’ll be ditching this vacation, trying to squirm out of Sylvie’s evil clutches. Has she really sent someone to watch me?

  As he passes me, I get a look at the man when something, probably my gut since I’ve been doing this job for way too long, tells me as ugly as this mother fucker is, he’s not one of Sylvie’s morally loose ape-men. Still very cautious, my eyes watch him closely as I stand to take him in.

  When he approaches a group of travelers I’ll have the pleasure of sharing a cramped prop plane with, I see him pull a young lady out of the crowd. Now, I know for a fact this is not Sylvie’s doing. As horrible as the bitch is, physical abuse of women is not her play. No, she loves to mess with them more psychologically. That is where the bitch really shines.

  Dealing with douches is my area of expertise. I readily approach the woman for a second and upon seeing her red hair, I think of my own sister and what I would do if this dick was manhandling her. Without a word, I grab the man who towers over my six-foot-four-inch frame; I never fear the size of a man. In this case, the ape looks more stupid than anything. However, before I fight him on international turf, I think I’ll try to use my skills of negotiation for now.

  “Excuse me, that is no way to touch this young lady.” She looks at me and I see a look I’m familiar with. It is the I got this, fucker look. Though just for one moment, I see a hint of nervousness and softness and know where I’ve seen that look before—Justine. If she’s anything like my neighbor, I know she can certainly handle this fucker.

  “This is none of your business, fuckhead,” the ape says and in that second, I know his brain is not his asset.

  “I think that is for the lady to decide,” I say and I get a little hint of a smile from her. Before I need to use some of my more physical skills with this brute, a security guard comes at us.

  “What’s the issue?” he says, looking at the red-haired woman near me, who I’ve just started to gaze at. She’s stunning, now that I can truly take her in.

  “Oh, it was nothing,” the beautiful ginger says but before the security guard lets up, a loud-mouthed woman to the right of us starts.

  “That was not just nothing. He grabbed her and I mean yanked her arm so hard, I thought her poor little fragile arm would tear from her socket.”

  Oh, hell. All this pretty lady needs is to get on her plane and a million miles from this ass. As soon as I know it, three more security guards surround the man and take my statement. The woman is shaken and in tears at the gate. “But I’m going to miss my flight.”

  “I know and I’m sorry. But we take this seriously. There will be another plane,” I hear as I’m boarding for the little island and away from the woman that made me forget about my broken heart for a few minutes.

  3

  A car is waiting for me as soon as I get off the plane, as Hannah explained. Glad to know even with my late arrival, my host is on the ball. The temperatures are warm, but not too hot. After living in Washington State for the past year, I haven’t missed the humidity of North Carolina. Yet, this weather is absolutely gorgeous. I always thought I wanted a white Christmas but fuck that, this will do just fine.

  I’m surprised to see the person waiting for me is American. “Mr. Davis, I’m glad you made it, though we’ll be missing your sister this week. She was a ray of sunshine when she and her best friend came in the spring,” he says politely, taking my suitcase and showing me to a small car. “I’m taking you back to the B and B but I have got to turn around quickly to get the other guest. I’ll have my wife, and the little devils I helped create, settle you in.” After returning to the driver’s seat, he says, “It looks like we’ll have a peacefully quiet Christmas. We are only expecting one more guest who comes routinely this time of the year, who got tied up at the airport.”

  “So only two of us?” I ask and he nods his head in agreement. “Oh, I can handle the peace and quiet. I plan on spending most of the time out by the pool, just me and a book,” I mention. Being the avid reader, I am, I brought three with me, along with my e-reader.

  “Ah, what do you read?” the man asks.

  “Erotic Romance.”

  At my joke, we both start cracking up. I am sure he is envisioning me now, all six-foot-four-inches of me with Fifty Shades of Grey in my hands.

  Turning to me he says, “Mack is the name. I’m glad you’re joining the family and me for the holidays. Be as invasive or evasive as you like. We mingle with our guests if they want to or we give space. See, the wife and the kids, they are talkers, especially to Americans, and will chat about anything stateside. I mean anything.”

  I only chuckle because if he’s any indication, he too is a talker. “The truth is I’m here to escape one person. Well, maybe two if you’re counting the bitch who is with my sister in Maine,” I joke and he looks away at my sentence. Maybe he’s not one to swear and wants women to be respected. I get that, but if he only knew Sylvie, he would understand what I mean.

  “Ah, that Cupid is a bitch. I was lucky to get my love early on.” I’m now confused, he basically called the love angel a bitch. Oh well, who knows, maybe the iguanas and warm weather have done something to his brain.

  No reason to deny the girl problem though on my end. “My neighbor,” I say, and in that minute, we exchange a look as though he knows exactly what I’m talking about.

  We continue with small talk when I add, “I look forward to this break, the first break I’ve had in years to enjoy myself and not have to worry about mistletoe, though I’m hoping to see a Christmas tree.”

  “Oh, that you will see.” He pauses and clears his throat when he says; “We have two parts to our bed and breakfast. The main house we reserve normally for families with kids and give singles the guesthouse villas. There are four rooms, complete with en-suites and a small kitchen. I can move you to the main house but figured you may prefer the guesthouse since my kids will be jumping off the walls with excitement. Each night, you can join us at the main house for dinner but in the morning, I’ll make your breakfast in the shared kitchen.”

  I love kids and am wonderful with them, but it will be nice to bond with them on my own time and not to be woken to their shrills of the upcoming arrival of Santa.

  Driving up to this little secluded slice of heaven really puts a smile on my face. Only a five-minute walk to the beach, the B and B is situated near a lagoon. It’s a large yellow house that I wouldn’t hesitate to call a mansion. Near the house is an amazing infinity pool. Set next to the main house is a home I would never call a guesthouse, however the term villa does it justice. Designed as a smaller scale of the main house, the “guest suites” must be at least double the size of my little bungalow in Spokane.

  The colors are of the Caribbean, everything that can be seen on HGTV. With the main dwelling; a beautiful yellow color plays off the guesthouse villas of turquoise along with the pink and purple flowers that are showcased on the grounds. It is a rainbow of beauty and something about this leaves me happy.

  I don’t think of Justine or missing my sister or even the misery Sylvie brings in her fucking wake. I think of ten days in the sun, on my own, taking part in whatever the hell I want to do. I’ve not had this sort of release in years. Man, it is as if the heartbroken gods knew I needed this and did everything in their ability to make this happen. I don’t really care how it
came about. I’ll enjoy the fuck out of it for now.

  * * *

  An hour later, I find myself at the pool, face to face with what looks to be an eight-year-old boy and a ten-year-old girl. “It’s a man and he’s American.” Oh, I forgot Mack warned me about his kids and their love for Americans.

  “Come on, let’s go ask him what the last movie was that he watched,” I hear them say.

  I do love kids and always wondered if normalcy would be part of my life and if so, I want kids too. Though I would have to say good-bye to my job and Sylvie, since anything important to me; she’d use for leverage. Sylvie could take down a full-grown man, someone bigger than Brutus from the airport. At least in that way I know Hannah is safe with that bitch by her side. Along with peace and quiet, I’d have to figure out a way to rid Sylvie of my life and along with that, get a new fucking job.

  The boy approaches but the girl stays back as they giggle, still talking about movies and now, television shows. She looks shy so I wave then smile her way, “It’s okay, sweetie, I don’t bite.”

  Before the girl can approach, I hear the door to a car slam and both yell, “It’s Papa with Sasha!” They run away from me. Somehow, I’m sure in the next ten days, they will still have many questions for me. I sit up, needing a break from the sun. Walking toward the pool, I dive into the cool water, which fills me instantly with relief. As I emerge, I see the two kids hugging a woman, my woman, the ginger from the airport.

  She glances over at me as I lamely wave. Looking right into my eyes, she walks away as if in disgust. I swear under my breath, “Well, that is a great fucking thank you if I ever heard one.”

  * * *

  Our guest suites are as luxurious as any five-star hotel I’ve been to at any various overseas resort. In my career, that would be in the hundreds.

  Ascending the upstairs where my room is along with a shared living room and kitchen, I look for the pretty face that captured my attention and if I’m being honest, my balls, too. However, I’m not sure I’m on her happy list; seems I may be higher on her shit list than the thug that tried to do whatever the hell he tried to do to her.

  Glancing at my watch and the bedroom door that is now closed but wasn’t upon my arrival, I wonder if I should knock on the door. No, I finally surmise, thinking I have a hell of a lot of time with this ginger. Let her get her frustration out first, that way I won’t attempt to continue to piss her off.

  * * *

  At dinner, I arrive before the mysterious woman that I only know as Sasha by Mack’s children’s greetings. Now they are in my face again, and I’ve got to admit, they are sweet little kids.

  Before they start in on me again concerning my favorite movies, I say, “Okay, kiddos, before any more questions, I must find out your names.” I look up, nodding at Mack as he sits in his den, drinking something I’m hoping he offers me soon.

  The little boy looks at me with his big brown eyes, freckles lacing his face. “I’m Cameron. I’m eight.” He extends his hand to me as if he’s ready to shake mine.

  Taking his hand and shaking it firmly, I smile, “Cameron, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Jake.”

  The little girl taps my arm and I turn around, “Is Jake short for Jacob?”

  Taken off guard by her question, I answer, “Yes, it is.”

  “Well, Jacob, it is nice to meet you. I’m Sydney and I’m nine.”

  “Sydney, it’s nice to meet you as well.” These kids are very tall and slender for their ages but before I’ve had a chance to find out more about these two very energetic children, their mom enters the room. Standing at close to six feet tall, their mom along with the height of their dad answers my question concerning their height. Putting down a large tray of pot roast and potatoes, she heads toward me with a sincere smile.

  “Mr. Davis, I’m Anna Sheridan.” As she greets me, the kids start screaming. Turning around, I see the woman who now is staring daggers at me.

  Before I can shake Mack’s wife’s hand, Anna Sheridan dashes to the lovely woman who at one point looks as if she could kill me with her eyes; now, though, she’s not even acting as though I’m in the same room.

  Mack walks up to me, with what I hope is a fucking scotch in his hands, and smiles. “Man, you seem to have fucked up with Sasha. She went on and on about some sort of overzealous Robin Hood.”

  With a cocky smirk covering my face, that Hannah always said she would slap off of me one day, I finally catch another look of this Sasha. Not breaking contact with her, I reply to Mack, “Yeah, I guess I was just supposed to let that asshole knock her around.”

  “Shit, let me tell you one thing about Sasha Peterson, she’s not a fragile little girl. Believe me, should that man have continued, he would have been on his ass. She teaches junior high in an inner-city school in LA. As it was, all you did was make her miss her flight.”

  It is again an occupational hazard so I’m not thinking when I say, “Well, hell, that guy was a dick and even if she knows Karate, I would do that shit again.” Breaking the trance of Sasha’s caramel amber eyes, I look at Mack as he slaps me on the back with a smile.

  “See, I knew you were one of the good guys. Sasha has come here every year for the last six years. She’s like family and is really a gem. So, thanks for taking care of that girl for me. I would have knocked him out myself.”

  I notice how Mack never takes his eyes off his wife for long and if he does, it is only to soak in the squeals of his kids. “You’re a lucky man, Mack,” I say as he nods his head in agreement.

  Walking over to his wife, he plants a kiss right on her cheek as he yells, “Let's get to eating!”

  * * *

  I don’t notice Sasha leave the main house as I continue to drink scotch with Mack while the kids ask me their hundred questions about the states. Before I can excuse myself from their interrogation, Anna saves me. “Come on, my babies, it is time for bed and to give Jake a reprieve from your many questions.” She laughs, scooting her kids along. I notice a hungry look in Mack’s eyes, one I’ve not had in years and it has nothing to do with a lack of food. Knowing what he has in mind after his pretty wife gets his devils, as he calls them, into bed, I stand quickly to take my leave.

  “Okay, Mack, I’ll let you go.” He smiles in what I’m sure is appreciation when I say, “You have a damn beautiful family.”

  Turning from the steps he has started to climb, he says, “You will too one day, Jake Davis, that I’m sure of.”

  Turning to the main house backdoor veranda, I stop dead in my tracks as I see Sasha stepping out of the pool in the skimpiest two-piece that has ever been made. Leaving nothing to the imagination in her white bikini, I try not to stare; it is obvious she’s aware of the presence, not acknowledging me. I only shake my head, what a fucking damn stubborn woman. That is when I realize I need to get to know her. Just not tonight, not when she’s still seething from the fact that I tried to help her.

  4

  I’m barely awake when I hear music, hell, just not music but Christmas music blaring from the outside common area. The sun has just started peeking through the curtains and when I look at my watch on the nightstand, I see it is barely seven am.

  Sitting up in bed, I scratch at my scruffy beard realizing I’ve gone too long without shaving. I’m not the scruffy beard kind of man unless one of my persona’s Sylvie dreams up for me is indeed the scruffily bearded type of person. In that case, I hate those identities and I swear Sylvie dreams those up for me more often, just to spite me.

  Hell, between the early music and thinking of Sylvie, I’m certainly in need of coffee, with something stronger than sugar in it. I decide to walk out straight away with a pair of jeans, barefoot and shirtless. I’m not one to fully get dressed in the morning, not until I can wake up with my morning Joe.

  Expecting to see Mack in our kitchen cooking breakfast, I see Sasha with a large box of ornaments and the biggest fake tree I’ve ever seen. Sitting at least twelve feet tall, I stop in my tracks as she
turns around, still hot as hell over whatever my crime was. Oh, wait, it was making sure that thug didn’t hurt her. Note to self, never attempt that again. Even in my mind, it sounds sarcastic.

  She finally turns around as though she’s about to talk to me when I realize she’s opening her mouth. “So, tell me, do you have merry men with you, or do you do that stupid take on a guy three times your size all the time.”

  “The bigger they are, the harder they fall,” I say flatly, making my way to the smell of the coffee maker. “Why don’t you tell me, are you always this rude waking up strangers this early without regards for them wanting to sleep in on vacation?”

  “Well, now we are even. You made me miss my flight, I woke you up. Anyway, no reason to waste the day away while on vacation. We have a tree to decorate.” She turns and gives me the briefest smile.

  I’m not awake enough yet for her Yuletide spirit. However, she has a little bit of sass in her, time to bring it down a notch. I smile and think, yes, this will be very fun! “So where did you get that tree, the big and tall store?”

  “Ah, funny, smart ass. I’ve been coming here for years. After the first year, I bought this tree and had it shipped. Cost me a fortune but Christmas is not Christmas without the tree,” she says, now on a stepladder, trying to wrap the burlap banner around this beast.

  “Look, lady, you’re going to hurt yourself up there, will you let me do that? I’m taller than you and have a better reach,” I say, making my way near her as she’s now on her tippy toes.

  “Yeah, I’m sure you say that to all the girls, ‘I’ve got a good reach, ladies.’” She mocks me but as she does, she loses focus as I stand. Trying to steady her, it is easy to reach for her while accidentally grabbing her ass and boobs simultaneously.

  Looking down, she can only smile, “I’m sure you didn’t plan that at all, now did you, Mr. Davis?” Looking surprised, she reads my next thoughts and says, “Don’t flatter yourself, I only asked Mack for your name so I didn’t come off rude calling you jackass.”