Page 13 of Stuck in Paradise with You

I don’t know why but my eyes flick to Luke and before he darts his focus away, I see that his attention is trained on me, which brings any good humor I was feeling to an abrupt halt.

‘What does the news say, Jenny?’ Hettich asks.

‘They’ve upgraded the storm to a category one hurricane. They’re calling it Isabel. They think she’ll be a category four by the time she reaches the Leeward Islands on Thursday evening or the early hours of Friday.’

Hettich shakes his head. ‘She’ll never hit. They never do.’

‘I wouldn’t be so sure, boss.’ Henry, the other guy who picked me up with Jenny, chips in.

They’re both wearing matching Charithonia uniforms – now smart black shirts, also withCharithoniain gold thread on the pockets, and black slacks. Where Jenny has clearly washed and blow-dried her long flowing locks, Henry looks much the same as earlier today – sun-kissed skin and hair stiffened by saltwater and wind – though now his polarized shades are sitting in his hair. He’s handsome, very. They’d make an especially attractive couple, actually.

Maybe I should warn them that workplace romances are an utter catastrophe.

‘They think she could be a direct hit,’ Henry adds.

Jenny hums in agreement, clearing her mouth of bread before speaking. ‘There are two more storms brewing and you know what the weather guys are like, excited at the prospect of apocalypse, but they say if the three collide, this could be the largest hurricane to ever make landfall from the Atlantic.’

What?I’m listening.Should I be worried?I glance around the table but with the exception of Luke, no one else seems perturbed. I let my shoulders fall the ten inches they just rose. Or maybe they’ve been up there since I arrived on this island.

‘Those guys need ratings,’ Hettich says, waving his empty fork dismissively. ‘There’ll be hundreds of YouTube and TikTok videos simulating a superstorm online already. When I feel Isabel’s wind in my hair, that’s when I’ll believe it. You watch, it’ll miss the Caribbean altogether and hit somewhere like Florida.’

Florida?My dad and stepmom live in Florida.

I reach for a glass of water from the table to soothe my tight throat.

Then a voice I could pick out of a rowdy room says quietly, ‘That won’t happen, don’t worry.’

When I look up, Luke has turned his attention to Noah, asking him if he needs help cutting up his burger, but I know his words were aimed at me.He remembers.

Not that one memory of where my dad lives undoes his many failures, but it was a kind thing for him to say.

I’m thankful when my mixed grill of lobster, huge prawns and steak is placed in front of me. I can get lost in this, pretend that I’m not watching the way Luke flirts with Alisha and takes care of Noah through my third eye as I eat.

The child who is dressed as Peppa Pig and sitting next to Alisha, without any cause, it seems, flicks a forkful of mac-pie – which Henry assures everyone at the table is the best in the Caribbean – at the minion sandwiched between Ella and me.

‘Moooooooooom!’ the minion yells as Alisha takes the offending fork from Peppa and chastises her the way moms do.

Huh. I think I might be sussing out who belongs to whom around the table now. Buzz Lightyear and Peppa Pig, AKA Noah and Char, belong to Alisha and Luke. The minion, Sanza, and, I think, Rusty fromCars, Toby, who’s sitting opposite Jenny and next to Henry, are Ella and Joe’s two children.

We’ve got ourselves a little am-dram kindergarten.

‘Say sorry to Sanza,’ Alisha tells Char, who scowls at Sanza the minion, then, for her mom’s benefit, grins sickly-sweetly and chirps, ‘Sooooooory.’

‘Do you accept her apology, Sanza?’ Ella asks.

Sanza giggles in response.

Bizarrely, it reminds me how much I pined for a sibling or cousins when I was younger. When my parents separated, I was eighteen and conflicted. They needed to separate, they made each other miserable, but I wanted my family to stay as a unit even if it was a dysfunctional one because it was all I’d known. It was a lonely time. I always thought a sister, a brother, a cousin to share in the misery else help me ignore it, would have been nice.

‘Your kids are cute,’ I say, looking at Alisha but side-eying Luke, not wanting to pay him any compliment, even if it is in reference to his children.

Alisha looks startled, pointing at Peppa Pig. ‘Char?’

‘And Noah,’ I say, narrowly escaping meeting Luke’s eyes as I glance to Noah next to him.

Alisha laughs. ‘Oh, they aren’t mine, honey.’

Everyone chuckles, so I go along with it, all the while feeling like someone has lit a fire in my cheeks.

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