Page 4 of Something Real with the Sea Monster
“That would be perfect. Thank you.”
“We’ll see you soon.” I look up just in time to see the little wooden ship that sits on the bookshelf go crashing to the floor as both Alex and his mother reach for it at the same time.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” The baby triumphantly snatches her sunglasses along with a huge chunk of hair, and she winces. The boat is lying in pieces on the floor.
Coming around from behind the desk, I crouch beside Alex and hold out my hand with the fidget spinner I keep behind the counter in my palm. “Hey, buddy. You want to have a look at this for a minute while I talk to your mom?”
The little boy snatches it with a grin as big as his little sister’s. I collect the pieces of the boat and deposit them behind the counter.
“Say thank you,” his mom says weakly.
I lift him into one of the armchairs and turn to her. “Let’s get your checkout sorted. I’m sure you’re keen to get these rugrats some brekkie.”
She smiles gratefully. “We’ve been up since six, so we’ve already had breakfast, but it must be time for morning tea!”
I check her out and hand her a business card and two lollipops from a little jar I keep next to my laptop. “Thank you for staying with us. Please consider writing a review.”
“If I ever get a minute to myself, I’ll definitely write one. This place is lovely,” she says. “And you’ve been so accommodating.”
“We do our best.”
“Come on, kids. Let’s go find Daddy.”
I wave them off. The moment they’re out of reception, I pick up the phone again and call down to The Snapper. My brother Noah has done such an excellent job re-establishing its reputation that it gets very busy. Hopefully they’ll be able to squeeze in an extra table at short notice.
The young woman working today picks up the phone. “Hi, Jack, what can we do for you?”
“Hi, Jenny, can you reserve a table for two at 11:30? I’ve got an early check-in I need to distract for a while.”
She sucks in a breath through her teeth. “It’s tight, but I’ll work something out. Lucky it’s today and not tomorrow. With Noah away, we’re not doing a full seating.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, I thank her then call the cleaner’s mobile phone. She picks up after only one ring. “Hi, Joanne. I was just about to call,” she says, assuming my mother is calling, not me.
Uh oh. That doesn’t sound good. “It’s me, Jack. Mom and Dad are away until the end of next month, remember?”
“Oh, of course,” says Carmen. “Silly me. Well, I was just about to call because my daughter rang me to ask if I can drop the kids at school this morning. She’s not feeling well. So I might be a little bit late. I hope that’s not a problem. I can work later to make up for it.”
The corner of my bright smile drops for a moment, and I sigh again. “Yeah, that’s fine. Family comes first.” I get it. I really do. I’d do the same thing. But that’s the third time in the last fortnight that Carmen has been late. I guess I’ll be doing room six myself.
I flip the sign on the front door to ‘back in ten minutes’ and wheel the cleaning trolley out of the storage cupboard. As predicted, room six is a mess. The sofa bed in the living area needs to be stripped down and stashed away, and the sink is fullof unwashed dishes. I shake my head when I see the bath is still full of water and there’s a dirty nappy in the middle of the floor.
I’m interrupted while tucking the fitted sheet around the mattress when a buzzing from my pocket alerts me to a call. I straighten, looking at the time. That will be the Chesterfields.
That’s how my day goes, from interruption to interruption until I think I’m on top of things and finally sit down to eat the withered apple that’s been sitting on my desk for a few days now because every time I think I have a moment to myself someone calls.
I take one bite before the phone rings.
Why did I think I could run this place by myself? Mom and Dad have been running it together since my brothers and I were kids, and they’re both like the Energizer bunny: they never stop.
“Welcome to Inlet Views, how may I help you?”
“Hey, Jackie. It’s Dad. Sounds like you’re all over things.”
I give a halfhearted attempt at a laugh. “Yeah. Something like that. How are you? I’m guessing you’ve arrived in Hawaii?”
“Sure have. My god, you should see the size of the burger we just had at the airport. Oh. Hang on. Your mom wants a word.”
There’s a pause, and then Mom says, “Jack, love. We’re just calling to check, even though I know you’ve got everything under control, but I remembered we booked in the guy to check the fire alarms tomorrow, so I thought I should remind you.”
