by A W Hartoin
Aunt Tenne snorted and began snoring even louder. I slipped out of bed and wrote her a note. I was getting coffee, not telling Mom she’d been out until two. I was definitely not going to be the one to let that news out. Mom was the younger sister, but you’d never know it. She hovered over Aunt Tenne and fretted about her all the time. Once when I was fifteen Aunt Tenne went away for the weekend without telling Mom. She nearly called out the National Guard. Mom called every ER in the city and made me sit at a cemetery with her for hours. It was the weirdest thing. Mom wouldn’t say why she was so worried just that it was August, like that somehow explained things.
I threw on a cover-up and decided not to wear shoes. The morning was clear and sunny and the smell of coffee wafted around the palm trees. No sound from Graeme and Lucia’s bungalow, so I walked down to the restaurant to find a coffee bar had been set up. Dixie stood in front of it with her finger on her lips.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Their milk’s sitting out,” she said. “Should I tell them?”
I picked up a carton and checked the side. “It’s UHT milk. You don’t have to refrigerate it.”
“That’s weird. I don’t know,” said Dixie.
“It’s fine. They use it all the time in Europe.”
The Girls had taken me to Europe multiple times when I was a kid. The boxes of warm milk freaked me out at first, but you get used to it. Dixie’s face changed and the corners of her mouth pulled down.
Oh, no. What’d I say?
“Gavin never wanted to go to Europe.”
I poured her a big mug of coffee. “You should go now. I recommend Paris. You’d fit right in.”
She perked up. “That’s right. The Girls took you. You’re one lucky girl, growing up the way you did.”
“I was. I am. I wish The Girls had a touch of luck right now,” I said.
“Case not going well?”
“Judge extended the freeze,” I said.
“I wish I knew what all the fuss was about. At least I’d know what to expect,” said Dixie.
“You’ve been subpoenaed?” I took a sip of my coffee and tried to look uninterested.
“Yes. Big Steve’s going to prep me when we get back.”
We found a swing overlooking the ocean and sat down gingerly so as to not spill our coffee. I watched the Land’s End couple’s children splash around in the water while I worked up the nerve to get nosy.
“So what’s he going to prep you for?” I asked.
“He wants to go over everything that happened the year before you were born. I told him I was in grad school. I barely remember anything but that.”
That’s right. Dixie knew my parents back then.
“Were you there when the deed to the house was signed over?”
“No. I wouldn’t be there for that,” she said.
“Were you surprised when The Girls gave Mom the house?”
“I barely remember it happening. I think Gavin helped your parents move in. I must’ve been working.”
“Did Mom say anything at the time about getting the house?”
“No.”
“When did you meet The Girls?” I asked.
Dixie took a sip and peered over the rim of her mug at me. “Are you interrogating me?”
“No. Just curious.”
“You’ve got that look again,” she said.
“I’d just like to know how we ended up with that house.”
Dixie looked out at the ocean, her face lit up from the sun’s reflection off the perfect blue. “You’ll have to ask Carolina.”
I suppressed a groan. Lucky for me that I did. Mom ran around the side of our swing. “Where’s Tenne?”
“In bed,” I said.
“She’s not answering the door.” Mom’s cheeks were flushed.
“I just left her. She was snoring her head off.”
“So she’s acting fine?”
“She’s asleep,” I said.
“But nothing unusual has happened?” asked Mom.
“Like what?”
“Like anything.”
Does staying out until two count?
“Um…no, she’s good,” I said with a twinge of guilt. I lied on a regular basis when I was doing stuff for Dad, but I’d never gotten comfortable with lying to Mom. Probably because she usually caught me.
Mom took my coffee and downed the remainder.
“Why are you acting like Aunt Tenne’s a crazy person you have to watch?” I asked.
Mom and Dixie exchanged a look. Great, more stuff people won’t tell me.
“We’re not going to go sit in a graveyard today, are we?”
“Did you see a graveyard? Did Tenne see it?”
“No and no. What is up with you?”
“Nothing. Let’s get breakfast. Class is at eight thirty. Did you study your materials last night?”
“Yes, Mom. And I have to say studying on my first night of vacation was awesome.”
We found a table with a fabulous view and ordered banana pancakes.
“Stop complaining,” said Mom. “You’ll be certified in three days.”
“Great. Crossing off a goal I never had.”
Dixie laughed at us and then smiled out at the glaring sand and water. It was going to be a hot one.
Mauro was waiting for us at the dive shop, wearing a pair of European swim trunks and by that I mean very, very small. And tight. And small.
Stop looking, you freak.
“Mercy,” said Mom.
“What?” I asked.
“Mauro asked you a question.”
I blushed so hard I think my skin sizzled. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“Did you take all of your tests on PADI?” asked Mauro. His face was totally deadpan, but his eyes were laughing at me.
“Yeah, I did.”
“Alright then. We will start our classwork as soon as the others arrive.”
On cue Lucia and Graeme walked in, holding hands, and I couldn’t stop looking at her suit either. It was made for old ladies, an oversized tankini with a skirt that went down to mid-thigh. Lucia had a nice figure, beautifully proportioned. What was she covering up? Graeme had a beach bag the size of a sofa cushion. I hoped Lucia had her inhaler in there.
Mauro asked them about their tests and the rest of our class arrived. The Land’s End dad, Todd, came in carrying a backpack. He asked if they had lockers and where he should put his water. Mauro showed him the lockers and the Gmucas came in. Frankie had the kind of suit I was used to men wearing, to the knee with lots of pockets. Linda wore a leopard skin confection that looked like it may have been stuck on with tape. Last to arrive were three guys about my age. We heard them well before they came into the dive shop. Their laughter echoed off the walls and palm trees.
“Dude, you were so drunk,” said the first to enter, a short, stocky blond with a military style haircut. Next was a taller man, thin with wavy brown hair and a large diamond stud in one ear. The third was same height as the second. He had espresso-colored skin and light brown eyes. He struck me as the kind of guy who wouldn’t wear a diamond stud if his life depended on it.
“Welcome,” said Mauro, extending his hand. “You are?”
The blond shook his hand. “Hi. I’m Joe and this is Andrew and Colin.”
Colin, the brunette, let out a piercing whistle. “This resort gets better and better.”
He was looking at me in a way that wasn’t flattering, but clearly he thought it was. He elbowed Joe in the ribs. “Did you arrange this?”
The smile Joe had on for Mauro froze on his face. Andrew fidgeted and looked at his feet.
“Arranged?” asked Mauro.
“You know,” said Colin, “a festive little treat to send Andrew off into wedded bliss. Come on over here, hottie. Let’s see what you’ve got. We can afford it.”
Holy crap. He thinks I’m a prostitute.
I was about to give him the mother of all tell-offs, when my mother marched across the shop and put h
er finger in his face. “Who the hell do you think you are? This is my daughter. Not some sort of thing to be purchased like a car.”
Colin stared at Mom. “There are two of you. This is awesome.”
“Boy, you better—”
Mauro put his arm between them. “Mrs. Watts and her daughter are guests at the resort. They are not here for your entertainment.”
“I don’t know about that,” said Colin.
Joe slugged him hard in the shoulder. “Shut up, man. This isn’t APO.”
“I’m so sorry,” said Andrew with a faint tinge of pink on his cheeks. “Colin speaks before he thinks.”
“APO?” asked Mauro.
“Our fraternity,” said Andrew, looking hard at Colin. “But those days are over. Long over.”
Colin put up his hands. “Sorry. Sorry. What can I say? When it comes to beautiful women, I lose my head.”
“You are about to lose something else,” said Mom.
The way Mom was looking at Colin, he should’ve been terrified, but he wasn’t. He just grinned at her in a way that was supposed to be charming, but it was making Mom want to neuter him.
Andrew pushed Colin away into the shop and then stood between us and him. I smiled and he gave me a slight nod. I’d never been terribly fond of frat boys. My chest always seemed to cause a serious loss of critical thinking in their beer-addled brains, but I thought I could learn to like Andrew and Joe. They were working hard to keep their eyes up where they should be.
“Well, we are all here now,” said Mauro. “Please come this way.”
We sat at several rickety wooden tables on the deck next to the dive shop and were forced to listen to a lecture that was one hour and forty minutes longer than I was prepared to sit through. My head started nodding after twenty minutes and Mom kept poking me with her sharp elbow. I did learn how not to die, which was important. Lucia seemed to be paying attention, but didn’t say anything about her inhaler during the medical portion.
“Okay,” said Mauro. “If we are all ready, we will put on our bay say days and go to the shore.”
Bay say days?
Nobody else looked confused, so I followed the crowd back under the dive shop overhang. Mauro and the woman from behind the counter, Marcella, started asking everyone their sizes for wetsuits. Lucia picked women’s small. When she stepped into it, her swim skirt slipped and I saw the bruises her brother Oz must’ve been talking about. Three large purple circles covered her hip and thigh, like she’d been slammed against something. Maybe a bannister or wall. Lucia hastily pulled the wetsuit up and I looked away, picking up a women’s medium. Wrong. I sat on the bench and yanked the thick foamy material up over my thighs, which until that moment I thought were fairly slender. I managed to get my arms in, but couldn’t get the zip in the back to go up. I was trying to get Mom’s attention as she struggled with her own suit, but Mauro saw me and came over. I think his swimsuit got smaller.
OMG. What is wrong with me? I have a boyfriend. A very nice boyfriend who I hardly ever see and has the body mass of an underfed greyhound. But he’s smart. And kind. Did Mauro just ripple? Ahhhh!
“Problem?” he asked, his accent soft and musical.
“No. I’m good.”
Back away from the crazy girl.
“I’ll help you.” Mauro turned me around, but didn’t try to pull up my zipper. “It’s too small. I get you a large.”
“But I’m a medium,” I protested.
“Not today.”
He came back with a large. A large! I’ve never worn a large anything in my life. Why did I drink all those Monkey Lalas? They must have a thousand calories a piece.
“Put it on,” said Mauro. “It’s not bad.”
But it was bad. He could zip it up farther, but it still wouldn’t go up all the way. Then he did it. The incredibly hot dive instructor did it. He got me an extra large. That would’ve been bad enough, but that one wouldn’t zip up either. By this time everyone was in their wetsuits and was watching me. Mauro yanked on the back of my wetsuit and muttered under his breath. I don’t speak Spanish, but I think fat girl was in there.
“I can’t do it,” he said. “Your—how you say—top half is too big.”
Colin laughed and Joe hit him again.
“Well, that’s it, I guess,” I said, turning to slink away. “No scuba for me.”
Mauro grabbed my zipper lanyard and held me back like a dog on a leash. “It’s okay.”
“No, it really isn’t.”
Marcella said something in Spanish and Mauro agreed. She went to the rack and got another wetsuit that looked enormous. I mean, we’re talking really big. Tent big.
“We try another size,” said Mauro.
I looked at the tag. Men’s medium. Kill me now. Yes. That one zipped up and as an added bonus, the crotch was at my knees, so I got to walk like a penguin. I would’ve run out of the shop, if I could’ve waddled fast enough.
Lucia came over and patted my back. “You look fine. Really. It’s just that you’re so well-endowed. I have a friend who had the same problem. No one will notice in the water.”
Oz was right. I did like her. Damn it. Why couldn’t she be a snotty crab that turned up her nose at my penguin suit? It would be so much easier to ignore the bruises. “Thanks.”
She started back toward Graeme who was with his bundle of equipment on the bench, but I held her back.
“Lucia, I don’t mean to be nosy, but do you have asthma?”
“How’d you know?”
“I’m a nurse and you packed inhalers.”
“Oh. Why do you ask?”
“Scuba is contraindicated for asthma sufferers.”
“I know, but I got clearance from my doctor. I just have to have my inhaler close at hand.”
“Are you sure about this?” I asked. There was that feeling again.
“I’m sure it will be fine. Graeme really wants to get certified together,” said Lucia.
I bet he does.
Marcella, the shop assistant, came over and handed me a black vest. “This BCD should fit you.”
“Oh,” I said. “Bay say day.”
She laughed and we looked at Mauro.
“What?” he said.
“Bay say day,” said Marcella with a laugh.
He frowned. “I don’t say that.”
“You really do,” I said and he frowned deeper, making him absolutely adorable. I turned away before I launched myself at him and packed my own bundle, wrapping my regs, mask, and fins inside my BCD. Mauro had us start loading our tanks into the back of a golf cart parked beside the shop. I came and saw Lucia sitting next to her bundle talking to Todd.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
She smiled. “Just a little nervous.”
“Me, too. Grab your stuff. We nervous Nellies will do it together.”
We loaded our bundles into the back of the golf cart and followed it down a narrow sand road to the ocean. The shore dive turned out to be a piece of cake. Although every time I cleared my regulator, I got a nice spray of seawater in the mouth. Gag. Mostly, I was just glad Lucia was fine and I didn’t do anything to further embarrass myself, like shoot to the surface in a panic. Todd did that twice. Linda once. Even Mom had a mini freakout when she had to fill her mask. Only Dixie got through it without a problem. When we surfaced, she wore a smile I hadn’t seen since the Easter before Gavin died.
“That was amazing,” she said. “Gavin would be so proud of me.”
And he would. Dixie did everything perfectly, but he always thought she was perfect to begin with. Me, he would’ve teased. I could just see him sneaking up on me, doing a shark routine.
We tromped back to the dive shop, unloaded our gear, and were told to be back there in three hours. I immediately broke my vow and had a Monkey Lala and a huge cheeseburger with Aunt Tenne who looked happier than Christmas. Mom kept watching her and asking how she was feeling. Aunt Tenne finally made a run for it, saying she had to get something fr
om our room, but Mom and Dixie followed, still peppering her with questions.
I watched them bothering the crap out of Aunt Tenne, grateful that for once it wasn’t me. I was totally alone and nobody was bothering me. Sure I got some of the usual double takes, but nobody came over and said how much I looked like Marilyn or anything worse. Everything was perfect. I scubaed. I hadn’t seen Aaron all day. But that couldn’t last and I should’ve known where he’d be. That cheeseburger was fantastic, too fantastic. It had a hint of the Tommy Watts Burger, Aaron’s restaurant, Kronos, was known for.
I asked the waiter, “Have you seen a little guy, crazy hair, food obsessed, likes Spiderman?”
“He’s in the kitchen,” he said.
Of course he is. Aaron was the only guy in the world who would spend his vacation in the resort kitchen, probably because he hadn’t located a Dungeons and Dragons game to invade.
Aaron came out of the kitchen, wearing a pink hairnet and carrying a platter of chili cheese fries with a side of pablano garlic aioli. That wasn’t on the menu.
“What are you doing in the kitchen?” I asked as he sat down next to me.
“Cooking.”
“Why?”
I had to ask, so I deserved what I got. Aaron told me about every fish available on the island and how to cook them. He was going to invent a fish hot dog because that needed to happen. But his chili cheese fries were amazing. The secret ingredient was plantain and he planned to introduce an island submenu if he could talk Rodney, the other owner of Kronos, into it.
While Aaron was explaining fish gutting against my will, I saw Mom trailing Aunt Tenne down to the beach. Christmas was over and my aunt looked like she might crack Mom in the head with a coconut.
“Hey, Aaron,” I said. “Do you know why Mom’s acting so weird about Aunt Tenne?”
He stopped mid-intestine sentence and said, “She’s okay this year.”
“Who? Mom or Aunt Tenne?”
“Tenne. Your mom’s the same.”
“What do you mean this year?”
“It’s August,” he said with a mouthful of fries and a huge splat of aioli on his chest.
“Why wouldn’t she be okay in August?”
“August is bad. Got to make the cobbler.” He headed for the kitchen and I chased after him.