Page 235 of Daddy, Take Me Away
“I don’t like the way that guy looks at you,” Mark says, making my gut burn.
Huffing, I speed up. “The way that guy looks at me is none of your business, Mark.”
“Of course it is.” He picks up his pace to follow me. “You’re my sister-in-law. And I’m the man of the family. It’s my job to?—”
I stop, whipping around to glare at him. “Ever wonder why there are no men in our family?” I don’t finish my sentence. Instead, I just leave it hanging like a threat in the air and make a beeline for my great-grandmother.
“What was that about?” Gran-Gran asks, as we follow the bellboy to his limo-style golf cart.
“Nothing. Mark’s a tool, that’s all,” I say, grabbing my great-grandmother’s handbag so she can climb into the cart.
“Oh, I know that. I was asking about the fireworks before that.”
I flick her a quick smile as I climb in next to her.
When I’ve finished helping Gran-Gran put away her stuff, she tugs me to sit onto the bed next to her.
“I know you didn’t know about this. And if I’d known that before we’d gotten here, I wouldn’t have come. I hate that your sister did this to you, but what I hate even more is that she expects you to be happy for her and celebrate like you’re not in mourning.”
“Mourning? I’m not mourning Mark, Gran-Gran.” I roll my eyes.
“You’re mourning the life you expected. The fantasy of who you thought Mark was, and who you were going to be together. It was a short stop and sudden drop, finding out that everything you thought your relationship was, wasn’t real. You need time to wrap your head around that and figure out who you are now without him and with or without your sister.”
I lean into my great-grandmother who is sturdier than her family title would suggest. “You’re right and this is supposed to be my fresh start to figure all that out.” I shake my head. “This was mine. Probably more than Mark ever was.”
She pats my knee. “This is just a hiccup, every great life has them. Your sister has always been about the attention. And that’s never going to change. I’ll play defense though. Whatever you need so you can enjoy this vacation.” With a squeeze to my knee, she adds, “And I won’t let her cunt-block you either.”
I choke on my own saliva and the ninety-year-old pounds on my back.
“Gran-Gran!”
She gives me her signature smirk, mirth dancing in her eyes.
“Go do something fun. I’m going to tell Fiona that you made plans and can’t break them, and remind her she blindsided you with this wedding. Among other things.” Rising, her knees pop. “And that if you want nothing to do with the nuptials, I support you and she should too.” Gran-Gran heads to her carry-on bag and plucks a bright pink bikini out.“Off you go now. I have to get dressed for the poolside bar.”
“You’re going in a string bikini?” I smirk and admire the twinkle in her eye.
“It’s still early enough for a swim. And I’ve noticed a lot of stuffy old people around here. Someone needs to stir things up.”
“You’re just the woman for the job, too.”
As I pass by the pool bar on my way back to the lobby, I see everyone around a table under a large umbrella. They’re laughing, sipping cocktails, snacking on appetizers and in general, enjoying the gorgeous late afternoon. I feel a stab of disappointment as I watch them. I should be able to enjoy this too. Being part of my sister getting married is just another thing that was stolen from me.
Ignoring the way my stomach feels—as if someone poured cement into it—I head to the front desk.
“How can I help you, Miss Wayz?”
For a moment I’m stunned the man knows my name, but then I remember that I’m at a very exclusive resort and he probably knows every guest’s name.
My eyes breeze across his name tag before I answer. “I’d like to book some excursions, Milo.”
“Very good, Miss Wayz.” He reaches under the counter and pulls out a leather binder. “This is where we keep all the brochures with excursion details.” He hands me the binder. “Go through it at your leisure, I have several more. And when you decide, bring it back here and I’ll book you in.”
Opening the binder, I ask, “Anything more adventurous than snorkeling in here?”
“There is. But if you don’t find anything up to your expectations…” He reaches into his jacket pocket pulling out a card. “This is a good friend of mine. His tour company has some wilder, Zoë Wayz options. They’ll be on his website.” He nods. “And yes, I’m a big fan, Miss Wayz.”
Smiling, I take the card, eyeing the website. “Thanks. Milo? One other thing?”
