Page 20 of Troubles in Paradise
The day unfolds without a hitch. Cash joins his new lady friends from Wichita at Nigel’s Boom Boom, where Nigel himself makes the best hot dog with griddled onions Cash has ever tasted. The ladies ask him questions that he avoids answering in detail, but they’re into Nigel’s rum punch, so they don’t really notice.My first winter in St. John, I came down here to be with my mother after my father died(the ladieslovethis; he’s so sensitive, such a devoted son).I used to be a ski instructor in Breckenridge, then I lived in Denver for a while, but I’ve traded in my ski boots for flip-flops, my poles and goggles for a mask and snorkel, and I’m staying here. Yes, I have a girlfriend, Tilda, the relationship is pretty much brand-new.
“Well,” Amy says, “I hope she knows how lucky she is!”
They leave Smuggler’s Cove and head to Sandy Spit, which is half an acre of pure white sand with light foliage, including a couple of palms, making it look like a Corona ad. Everyone jumps off the boat to swim ashore, and Cash takes pictures with his ladies for their Instagrams.
Then it’s off to the Willy T, properly the William Thornton, the floating bar named for an infamous nineteenth-century pirate. They tie up, and the nine ladies head directly upstairs to the bar and order the shot ski, something Cash is only too familiar with from the bars in Breckenridge. The “ski” has four holes for four shot glasses and on the count of three, four of the ladies lift the ski to their mouths and do the shots in unison. Because there are only four shots per ski, this has to be repeated a number of times so the other passengers from theTreasure Island—including the inconvenienced Mr. and Mrs. Bellhorn—can take turns as well.
The ladies want Cash to do the shot ski—it’s a bar trick that never gets old—but no, sorry, he says, he’s on the clock. He can, however, fulfill his promise to step out onto the jumping platform, twelve feet above the water’s surface, and jump off while holding Donna’s hand. Cash won’t lie; he’s a little nervous, even though he’d think nothing of a ski jump this steep.
He checks in with the birthday girl when they’re standing on the platform. “Donna, do you wanna?” he asks, thinking he’s the epitome of wit, but she doesn’t answer, just flings herself forward, and Cash has no choice but to follow.
Shot skis, jumping from high ledges—what could go wrong? Nothing, as it turns out. It’s exhilarating. Everyone loves it, everyone’s happy. The day is a resounding success.
It’s only after Cash has mixed up the last batch of painkillers and the charter is on the way home that he thinks to text Ayers.
Missed you today,he says. This is true. Today went well but it would have been easier and more fun with Ayers.You okay?
A couple of seconds later, she sends the thumbs-up emoji, which tells him nothing but the bare minimum: she’s alive. Cash is debating whether or not to ask a follow-up question—emoji answers sort of discourage longer text exchanges—when she texts again.
I’m taking a leave of absence from the boat.
What?he writes.Why?
I heard about your mom,she says.How’re you doing?
Cash feels like sending back a thumbs-up emoji as a littleScrew you,because what does she mean, she’s taking a leave of absence from the boat? But what he says isI’m living up at Tilda’s but today her parents said Winnie has to go so I’m scrambling.
There’s a pause. Then three dots. Then:I’ll take Winnie if you want?
Cash quickly checks on everyone. They’re happy, the sun has mellowed, Jimmy Buffett is singing “Nautical Wheelers.”
If you wouldn’t mind for a few weeks? I would be so grateful.
Happy to,Ayers says.I’ll pick you up at the boat and we can go get her.
Ahh! Cash feels an overwhelming sense of relief. Ayers will take Winnie; Winnie is crazy about Ayers, she’s going to think she’s died and gone to heaven. This is a good solution, much better than asking the housekeeper, Virgie, to take the dog home, which was Cash’s only other idea.
Cash texts Tilda:I don’t need a ride, Ayers will bring me to Peter Bay, she’s going to take Winnie.
Tilda texts back:Kk.There is no heart-eyes emoji, her signature signoff, which is odd.
Cash texts,Are you okay?He thinks about what Tilda said about Ayers that morning:She’s newly single. But come on, Tilda can’t bethatsensitive. And the bald fact remains that Cash needs someone to take Winnie.
Tilda texts,I’m fine. I have a meeting anyway. I was going to tell you to hitch.
Okay…should Cash be offended? Because he’s feeling a little offended. A meeting with whom?
No time to wonder because the boat is pulling in. And yes indeedy, the tip jar is filling up.
Cash is standing in front of Mongoose Junction three hundred and ten dollars richer when Ayers arrives in her little green pickup.
“Hop in,” she says. She really does look sick—pale, washed out, heavy-lidded. She’s wearing cotton sleep shorts and a St. John Concrete T-shirt (STAY LEFT, POUR RIGHT), and her curly blond hair is a mess. Not a sexy mess, just a mess.
“I hope whatever you have isn’t contagious,” Cash says, getting in.
She hits the gas.
“So…you broke things off with Mick?” Ayers nods but doesn’t offer anything else. Fine, she doesn’t owe him an explanation. “How did you know about my mom?”
