Page 77 of Winter in Paradise
Maia had written a list:
1. They’re mean.
2. Awkward silence.
3. They don’t like me.
4. They will say unkind things about Rosie. They will call Rosie names. They will say the crash was Rosie’s fault.
Bingo: It’s the last one. Maia can’t bear to hear her mother maligned by people who didn’t even know her. And yet that’s also why Maia has to go. Someone has to defend Rosie’s honor.
Huck makes the turn—he knows where it is without Maia even telling him—and they crawl up the hill.
“Come on, chipmunks,” Huck says, but his heart isn’t in it, Maia can tell. He would probably be okay with the chipmunks quitting altogether.
Finally, they pull into the driveway. The gate has been propped open; that never happened when Russ was here. Of course, the people Russ was hiding from are now inside the house.
Maia takes a deep breath. Ayers is squeezing her hand. “You’re okay,” Ayers says. “You’ve got this.”
When Maia climbs out of the truck, the enormity of what is about to happen strikes her. She runs over to the bougainvillea bordering the driveway and throws up her lunch—fish sandwich. Huck hands her a bottle of water from the fishing trip supply he keeps in the back of the truck.
Tomorrow, she’ll tell Huck she’s becoming a vegan. She’ll accept only peanut butter and jelly for the rest of the year.
That decision made, they ascend the stone staircase.
Before they enter the house, Ayers takes in the view. “It’s so weird,” she says. “This is Little Cinnamon, or close. The house has this view and yet you can’t see it from the road.”
“Only from the water,” Huck says. “I’m sure that was by design.” He strides right up to the slider, knocks on the glass, and opens the door. “Hello!” he says. “We’re here.”
There are three people sitting at Russ’s kitchen table—a woman and two men. When Maia, Huck, and Ayers walk in, they all stand.
One of the men, the really tall, good-looking one, says, “Ayers?”
“Here we are,” Huck says. He strides over to the men and offers a hand. “Captain Huck Powers.”
“Baker Steele,” the tall one says.
Baker: Maia has heard this name before. Then it clicks. Baker is the tourist, Ayers’s tourist.
“Cash Steele,” the other man says. He’s shorter, with a head of bushy blond hair like a California surfer. His face is sunburned, which makes his eyes look fiercely blue.
“This is our friend Ayers Wilson,” Huck says. “And this is Maia.”
The woman steps forward and offers Maia her hand. “I’m Irene,” she says. “It’s nice to meet you, Maia. You’re even prettier than the pictures your grandfather showed me.”
“Oh,” Maia says. “Thanks.” She gives Irene her firmest grip and manages to look her in the eye. She’s old, Maia thinks, way older than Rosie. She’s pretty, though in a mom/grandma kind of way. Her hair is reddish-brown and styled in a braid. She’s wearing a green linen sundress, no shoes.
Baker looks at Ayers. “I didn’t realize you’d be coming.”
“Last-minute decision,” Ayers says.
Irene says, “Do you two know each other?”
The other brother speaks up. Cash. Cool name, Maia thinks. She loves last-names-as-first-names and has long wished her name, instead of Maia, was Rainseford. Or Gage. Maia is boring and soft.
“Baker and I met Ayers when we went to dinner in town,” Cash says. “She works at La Tapa.”
“Guilty as charged,” Ayers says, but her tone sounds forced.
