Page 3 of Enemies in Earnest

ChapterThree

What doesa middle-aged man do when his boat is wrecked and incapacitated for most of the summer tourist season? Play host to cousins, of course. And, taxi his mother around alaDriving Miss Daisy. Not that I minded seeing my cousin, Klaus, or meeting his fiancé Felicity.

“Is that a Hemingway bar?” Felicity asked as we drove around the island. “My sister, Sera, would just die. She’s a massive book nerd.”

“You can come with me this afternoon,” my mother offered. “The Candy Cane Key Christmas Society meets there. We’re finalizing the Christmas in July activities.”

Wasn’t that a kick in the Johnson? What a perfect way to spend an afternoon. As if the fact that I was essentially out of business for the near future wasn’t depressing enough, I got to sit in Acacia’s bar for the next few hours listening to her know it all commentary on my inability to steer a boat.

“We can head down to the wharf while they visit with the coffee clutch,” I offered to Klaus. “Listening to the town matriarchs plan their parties probably isn’t your idea of a fun vacation.”

“Actually,” my cousin offered a sheepish smile. “Felicity and I love Christmas. It’s what brought us together. The whole reason we picked July to visit was because of the festival.”

Of course, it was. Though with a name likeKlausa love of Christmas was probably a requirement. The universe hated me. Though I struggled to figure out what, exactly, I’d done to draw its ire.

“MariJo!” Acacia practically skipped toward my mother, all sunshine and smiles, arms spread wide to accept her hug. “I was wondering when I’d see you next. You missed last week’s meeting. I was starting to worry.”

Acacia was actually quite beautiful. Despite the poison she couldn’t resist spitting whenever I was around. She wore her twisted hair in an elegant braid that wrapped around the crown of her head. In place of a dress, she wore a pair of overall shorts and a peach-colored t-shirt with a cockroach on it that readI Woke Up Like This - Kafka. Though, I refused to give her the satisfaction of my appreciative chuckle at her punny t-shirt.

However, a man would have to be dead to not be affected by the way she looked. Her lush curves filled out those denim shorts in the most cock-teasing way. And her long, shapely legs highlighted her flawless honey bronze skin.

“Oh, nothing too serious. Just had to go and have some blood drawn. You know how it is with old ladies like me. They find any reason they can to make you a pin cushion and then charge you a hundred dollars for the band aid they fix you up with before sending you on your way.”

My mother got smiles and compliments from Acacia. Mymother’sguests thatsheintroduced got warm greetings and offers of specials andon the houseappetizers. And then, Acacia’s gaze stuttered over toward me. Her eyes shuttered faster than the town gossip getting caught peeking through her window.

“This is a much tamer clientele than you’re used to, Edwin. Would you like me to bring over a tray of shots perhaps? I haven’t seen a water gun anywhere, butmaybeI have some Mardi Gras beads in the back somewhere I can toss your way. What do you say,Papa?”

My entire table full of family looked toward me for an explanation. My mom, of course, barely paid attention to anything past her friends and their daily comings and goings. More than likelythe incidentnever had been relayed to her.

Rather than linger to hear my response, she sauntered back toward her bar to assemble drinks for another customer.

“Acacia excels in reopening long forgotten, and oft apologized for, wounds.”

I waved the topic away with a brusque swipe.

“Is she still mad because of the lady who tossed her cookies over the side of your ship?” my mother asked.

The tossing of the cookies probably would have been forgiven if the other ladies hadn’t decided toshaketheirs. I had no control over the people who booked my charter. If they wanted to get obnoxiously drunk and then pull the little triangles of their string bikini to expose their breasts to the granddaughter of a Poet Laureate, that wasnotmy fault.

First I had no idea that Acacia had famous people coming to her little memorial. She hadn’t announced that tiny detail to anyone.Protectingthe family’s safety and privacy, she’d said. How was I to know, honestly, that her event would be any different than any of the other ones? Read the passage, drop the wreath in the water, watch the sunset. Rinse, and repeat.

Personally, I chose to remember what it was like beforethe incident.In the magical moments just days before. When the sky glittered with raining fireworks, and boats paraded through the inlet with their Santa themed decorations. The two of us shared a blanket spread out on the grassy knoll between our two harbors. We’d gotten trapped from all the tourists pilingin.Which prevented us from gettingouttoward the center of town.

We made the best of it. Acacia brought some appetizers that she’d whipped together before the show started. I grabbed a bottle of champagne from the boat’s stock. Six- toed Joe sat between us on the blanket entertaining himself with the various winged objects that skittered this way and that. It was the night of possibilities. We were more than two businesspeople who shared a lot line and maintenance bills. That night we very nearly became friends.

Of course, time could be messing with my memories. But perhaps we’d toed the line tomorethan friends. I thought, just as the evening was ending, that there was moment. We collected the debris on the blanket and stood at the same time. She and I were a gasp apart. If I’d leaned in just a millimeter closer, it would have been a kiss. Stupid me. I wanted to be respectful. To consider that we were simply two people making the best out of an annoying evening. I backed off. Pretended I hadn’t been about press in to test the feel of her supple, heart-shaped mouth.

“You don’t have to stay, you know.” My mom patted my hand, concern lining her face. “I know you have a lot to do. Boat things. If you need to go, just come sometime around five. I think we’ll be done by then.”

Not a chance. The last time I’d left her to her own devices, one of her planning committee friends, Mrs. Soames, forgot she was supposed to be bringing my mother home and left early with the guy who owned the local hardware store. Thankfully, that meeting had been at the community center and the lovely young thing at the front desk had enough wherewithal to call me to come collect her.

“It’s fine Ma. I can keep myself entertained. Besides, it doesn’t make sense to go home, and there’s nothing for me to do at work without my boat.”

Seemingly satisfied, she turned back to Klaus and Felicity, and they regaled us with the story of the snowstorm that brought them together on Christmas Eve. Klaus’ mom and my mom were sisters. Aunt Clara and Uncle Ralph starred in some of my favorite memories from childhood, along with Klaus’ brother, Leo. As an only child, my mom and dad sent me to Chicago frequently to socialize withfamilyso I would have other people to lean on in the unlikely event they left this earth while I was still too young to fend for myself. Always planning for the worst.

But a kid from a sunny state getting to frolic in the snow during Christmas break? I’d looked forward to it. We didn’t travel back and forth that frequently. Every three years or so, maybe. But those trips were the highlight of my youth.

“If not for that blizzard, I probably would have spent the rest of my life assuming that there wasn’t anyone out there for me.” Klaus smiled at his fiancé, taking her hand in his and running his lips along her fingers.

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