Page 14 of Love Overboard
“What exactlydidyou tell him?” Abby ignored her redirection.
Lacey ignored Abby ignoring her and kept massaging. Someone bumped along the passageway and entered the laundry room on the other side of the wall. She pointed in the direction of the noise. “It’s such a pain sleeping right next to the dryers.”
“Please tell me you explained why you left him.” Abby pulled her foot away. “You told him why it wouldn’t work, right?”
Lacey said nothing. She grabbed a wet wipe from the dispenser on the dresser and scrubbed at her fingers.
“You left him cold? Changed ships and didn’t even leave a forwarding?” Abby stuck a short, unpainted fingernail between her teeth and stared at her. “That’s hard-core harsh. The poor guy deserved a breakup text at the very least.”
“I told you. We weren’t—”
“I know. I know. You weren’t officially together. Except …” Abby’s lips pinched, and her eyebrows rose. “You totally were. Don’t you owe him an explanation?”
Lacey’s stomach churned, and she pushed the guilt behind a barrier of every excuse her brain could generate. Better she left the past dead and buried. It didn’t matter how many shovels the Shippers brought. Her relationship with Jon belonged in the graveyard.
CHAPTER 6
THE LONG CONCRETE PIER STRETCHEDin front of the Shippers like an airplane runway. Women in colorful voluminous Mexican dresses and flowered hairdos posed with the picture-hungry passengers after they disembarked. A line of faux-grass roofs sat in the distance, where the first hurrah of overpriced souvenir shops waited.
“Hello, Cozumel.” Emily stood on the pier and counted in her head how many voyages she had docked there. “For the twenty-third time.”
Behind her, Althea groused at the gangplank, scooting her feet along as she grasped the rail. “Why do they put everything so stinkin’ far away? The boat should pull up to Main Street and drop us off.”
“The Caribbean Sea doesn’t flow through Main Street.” Gerry stomped down the metal walkway. “But I’m with you. I’d rather stay on board and work on the novel I’m writing. Why are we doing this again, Daisy?”
“Magda recommended an exceptional pedicure place.” The genteel woman adjusted her designer sunglasses and brushed a stray hair from her forehead. “They offer ichthyotherapy.”
“Icky-what?” Althea asked.
“Trust me. It will be worth it.”
“It better be.” Althea scowled at the sizable walk awaiting them and groaned.
The foursome started toward the shops when two bright-red bicycle taxis with yellow sunshades arrived.
“We will give you ride,” one of the drivers said with an appealing accent.
“Praise the Lawd!” Althea lifted her hands to the sky and headed for the nearest padded seat.
“Hold it, Althea.” Emily grabbed the eager woman’s arm. “We don’t want to spend our life savings.” She eyed the taxis and their operators. “How much will this cost?”
“It is free.”
Gerry snorted. “Do we look stupid?”
“No, no.” The man waved. “For you, it is free. You are sheepers, no?”
“Sheepers?” Gerry wrinkled her nose at Emily. “Baaaa?”
“Oh,Shippers.” Emily nodded. “We are Shippers. Yes.”
“Mucho gusto. I am Rafael. A man named Jonathan call me to pick you up. He already pay.”
“That’s good enough for me.” Althea clambered into the taxi and plopped onto the bench. “Come on, Daisy. Jonny hired these nice gentlemen to carry us to the salon.” She patted the empty spot beside her.
“What an obliging gesture.” Daisy joined her without argument. “We must write him a thank-you note.”
The more suspicious Emily and Gerry paused a few seconds before boarding the other taxi. The drivers climbed on their bicycles and transported the ladies down the long pier and through the fake village in just a few minutes. Daisy directed them to the nail place, and they zipped through the city, eventually dropping them off at the entrance.
