“No. We had a service dog like her.” She motioned to Chica. “They’re trained to alert the hearing impaired when a baby is crying or someone is at the door. And there are baby monitors that flash bright lights, too, and…” She could tell he’d tuned out.
“Anyway, it just looks like a lot of flapping to me.” He stretched out his long legs and put his hands behind his head, showing off his perfectly sculpted abs and hairless armpits. Kitty looked away, wondering if that was a new thing for guys. Even his legs were hairless. Maybe he was a professional swimmer.
“I can teach you a few signs. It would be nice to be able to say hello and goodbye, and thank you.”
“Naw,” he said and yawned widely, showing off perfect teeth. “It’s like this guy I used to work with. He didn’t speak any English. He was always trying to get us to learn Spanish. I told him, ‘Dude, if I speak Spanish, you’re never gonna learn English.’ And guess what? I was right. He picked it up eventually.”
Except a deaf person will never learn to hear, you idiot.
Kitty tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t merit a possible reprimand by her employer, and couldn’t. Jace was a tool, and there was no other way around it.
“Oh, hey,” he said, sitting up. “Tonight at dinner, can you try to keep those two from going on and on? It’s like being back in class. What a drag. There’s a reason I dropped out of school.”
Kitty didn’t need to ask who Jace was referring to, since she’d spent most of the last several meals translating for the married pair of archeologists, Ron Brown and his wife, Liliana. She felt obligated not to leave Jace out of the conversation, but he clearly was bored to death. Kitty had taken the temple tours a dozen times before and thought she knew quite a lot about the history, but the Browns knew so much more.
“I quite enjoy it, but I’ll do my best to bring the conversation around to something else after a while,” she said, hoping that was enough to satisfy him.
She started to slip on her sandals, aiming to make a casual exit, when Jace saw Miss Elaine and Miss Penny heading towards them. They beamed from under their matching straw hats, their patterned caftans flowing in the breeze. The two older ladies changed outfits several times a day, and their dinner attire was some of the most glamorous Kitty had seen in her time as a tour guide on the luxury liners. Every expensive-looking outfit was paired with piles of jewelry. They made Kitty feel rather drab. Today, even in casual lounge wear, they were eye-catchingly colorful. Their black lab, Toto, trotted beside them, a tiny straw hat on her head.
He leaped to his feet, smoothed his hair, and said, “Well, gotta run. See you at dinner.”
Kitty could have sworn he winked. She hoped she was wrong.
“Mrs. Van Horn is looking everywhere for you,” Elaine signed, rushing up before Jace could leave.
Kitty quickly asked Elaine whether it was the younger or the older Mrs. Van Horn, and then translated, adding your wife.
“Ok, thanks,” he said and sauntered away, not even bothering to ask where the two older women had seen his new bride.
“He’s too young for you,” Penny signed settling into Jace’s empty chair.
“And too stupid,” Elaine added, dropping into the spot on the other side of Kitty.
“And too married,” Kitty said. She started to add that she had no intention of becoming involved with anyone, and if she did, Jace was the last man she would ever look to for romantic companionship, but Penny interrupted her.
“I knew a man like Jace, once. My sister’s nephew-in-law, Bobby. You remember, Elaine?”
Elaine nodded. “Sure do. Not a man I could forget.”
Kitty wasn’t sure whether Elaine and Penny were related, or companions, or a couple, but their history seemed to go back decades.
“Started out real nice-looking. But ugly on the inside catches up to a person.”
Elaine nodded again. “He aged like home-made guacamole.”
“He’s not even that old yet. Not even half as old as us.”
Their age was another thing Kitty wasn’t exactly sure about. Maybe sixties. Maybe seventies. Possibly eighties. It was hard to tell under the heavy eye shadow and bright lipstick. They talked like middle aged women who’d run out of energy to care who they offended, but old enough to know that kindness was more valuable than wit.
“Sure looks it, though. Last reunion, he looked two thumbs of rum away from liver failure,” Elaine said.
“I don’t think it’s the drink. It’s soul rot leaking out through his pores.”
“Soul rot? That’s harsh,” Kitty said.
“He deserves it. Not a nice man,” Elaine said. “Usually I mind my business, but that Bobby has done bad things and… Well, let’s just say evil catches up to a person. Jace had better watch out, or he’s gonna look like ten miles of bad road before he turns thirty.”
“Or worse. People won’t take kindly to the things he’s doing,” Penny said. “I’m surprised Bobby’s lived this long, myself. And I’m not talking about his liver. You go around romancing married women and eventually some jealous husband will make sure you keep your hands to yourself―permanently. ”
Kitty turned and looked toward where Jace had gone. He was leaning close to a tall, thin man in a red polo shirt. They were both laughing loudly. A moment later, they turned and walked away together.
She didn’t know if it was better for Mrs. Van Horn to know what Jace was up to, or if living in ignorance was better. All she knew was that whatever was simmering under the surface of the tour group could just stay there until they made it back to Miami. She’d had enough drama to last her a lifetime. Once upon a time, she’d been a fan of ‘As the World Turns’ and ‘Days of Our Lives’, often crying hysterically over―while simultaneously reveling in―the heartbreak and betrayal of her favorite characters. And then it had happened to her. Heartbreak and betrayal weren’t as much fun when it involved your beloved fiancé and your best friend.
She’d run far, far away from everything that reminded her of them, and now she was happy. Mostly. Content was probably a more accurate word. She spent her days basking in the Caribbean sun, playing Bingo whenever she had the chance, and surviving off a steady diet of virgin margaritas and liquid chocolate. She had Chica, a steady job she loved, and her bookstore. When she was away, a graduate student named Nancy watched over the place, making sure the pipes in the old colonial didn’t spring a leak. Her two black cats preferred her to stay home with them and spend her evenings reading by the fire, but a girl had to make a living. They only spent a few hours giving her the cold shoulder when she returned from a cruise. So, all in all, her life was pretty much perfect, really.
The breeze turned chilly and Kitty frowned out at the view. A green strip of land was just barely visible to the east. The bank of clouds had turned from fluffy white to steel gray, and were fraying at the edges. Wisps slowly lifted off in tendrils like smoke from burning paper. She’d forgotten to pack her raincoat and was going to have to borrow one.
Sighing, she slipped on her sandals and said goodbye to Elaine and Penny. As much as she loved to listen to the ladies’ take on the world, she still had a day’s worth of work ahead, and unless she was very much mistaken, there was a storm on the horizon.
Danger at the Dive Shop Page 12