Page 50 of Everything We Left Behind

“Breakfast is at eight.”

“Wonderful.” Claire waves good-bye to his sons and gestures for the valet to follow.

Julian thrusts a chin in her direction and Marc waves back.“Buenos días, Señora Carla.”

“Do you mind waiting a second?” James asks Natalya.

She points to an empty spot in the parking lot. “I’ll be parked over there.”

James claps the door’s open window edge twice. “Thanks. I’ll be right back.”

Natalya drives away and James goes after his mother. He places his hand on her midback and shuffles her into the lobby. The valet hurries behind with the luggage.

“James,” Claire says between clenched teeth when he directs her off to the side. The valet hovers nearby.

“Excuse us a moment,” James tells the valet.

“Yes, sir. Ma’am, your bags will be at the concierge when you’re ready.”

James pivots back to his mother. “I don’t know why you’re here or what you’re up to—”

“I’m up to nothing more than a visit with my grandsons.”

His eyes narrow. She rolls her eyes. “Fine,” she huffs. “I’m here to make sure you don’t give up those boys.”

He jerks back. “Why would I do that?”

“Carlos was afraid you’d do something like this.Hetold me things. We had a good friendship.”

“Because he didn’t know who the hell you were.”

Claire averts her gaze. “Fair enough.” After a moment, she breathes deeply and pushes back her shoulders. “I’m going to check in and have lunch. A manicure sounds nice, too.” She inspects her nails, then walks away.

James rubs his face. He needs a shower and a shave. And food. What he doesn’t need is his mother’s dramatics. He groans into his cupped palms and leaves the hotel.

Back at the Jeep, he runs into more drama. His sons moan and groan. They rub their stomachs, complaining about unbearable hunger pains.

“We don’t have any grocery stores or restaurants on the island,” Natalya tells the boys as he slides into his seat. She catches his gaze and her eyes sparkle. “We have to pick our fruit from trees and slaughter our chickens.”

His sons look at their aunt in disgust.

“Eww,” Julian says.

“Haven’t you seen the chickens running wild?”

The boys nod.

“Catch one and it’s yours. We’ll eat it for dinner.”

“I was wondering about that,” James remarks. Chickens and roosters dotted the roadsides and flocked in parking lots. He’d noticed the feral birds during their drive.

“Hurricane Iniki in ’92. It wiped out the chicken farms,” Natalya explains, shifting into reverse. James grips the dashboard as the car lurches. “Chickens aren’t easy to catch and the island doesn’t have any natural predators so their population exploded. Now they’re just annoying pests begging in parking lots.” She points at a flock.

“More like built-in alarm clocks,” James quips, thinking of how many roosters he saw.

“You have no idea.” Natalya shifts into gear and they leave the parking lot. “I know of the perfect spot to grab lunch.” She yells at the boys over her shoulder.

“Do we get to kill chickens?” Marc excitedly yells back.

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