“You don’t know her nickname or her favorite smoothie?” Phil says. “I can see we still have some work to do.”
“Please stop, Dad,” Ayers says.
“It was very thoughtful of you to bring these,” Sunny says, opening the chips and helping herself to one. “How interesting that you live with your family of origin.”
“Yes, well…” Baker says. He glances at Ayers. Has she not explained any of his situation to her parents? “My father died in a helicopter crash on the first of the year…”
“So did Rosie,” Phil says.
“We adored Rosie,” Sunny says.
“Was the fella she was with…your father?” Phil asks.
“Yes,” Baker says. Ayers is staring at her own crossed legs. Why didn’t she give her parents the thorny background? “And so my mother and brother and I all flew down here to figure out what was going on.”
“What was going on?” Phil asks.
“Well, we learned about his relationship with Rosie…”
“Had your mother suspected anything?” Sunny asks.
Baker can’t believe he’s being put on the spot like this. But it’s refreshing, in a way, to answer questions that everyone must be asking in his or her head. “She had no idea,” Baker says. “It came as a complete shock. Jaw-dropping. For days I think we all believed there’d been a mistake, that it was a different Russell Steele. But then, yeah, we accepted it was my dad. He owned a giant hilltop villa that we knew nothing about. He had a whole life. A second life.”
“You’ll forgive me for saying so,” Phil says, “but it seems unusual that you stayed on the island where your father had a second family.”
“Dad!” Ayers says.
“It wasn’t our plan to stay,” Baker says. “Each of us ended up back here for his or her own reasons. I can only speak for myself. I was living in Houston, my marriage fell apart, my almost-ex-wife took a job at the Cleveland Clinic—”
“Impressive!” Sunny says.
“—and I met Ayers. I decided I wanted to try to make our relationship work.” He can see the warning in Ayers’s eyes but he ignores it. “I came down here without knowing about the baby. But I’m excited—no, thrilled about the news, and I plan to be a hands-on father, just like I am with Floyd.”
“Well,” Sunny says, “I’m overcome. What a beautiful thing to say.”
“We ended up losing my father’s villa a few weeks ago,” Baker says. He clears his throat. “There was tax trouble. Legal trouble. And that was a hurdle for all of us—my mother, brother, and me—because we had all planned on living there. It was…spacious.”
“Um, yeah,” Ayers says.
“It’s almost better that we aren’t at the villa anymore.” Baker realizes these words are true only as he’s saying them. “It was…tainted. Don’t get me wrong, it was luxurious, the wow factor was high, but I think that masked the truth, which was that we didn’t belong there. I’ve rented the place right across the street from here, and although it’s a tight fit right now, I’m confident my mom and brother will find their own spaces in time.”
“Across the street from here!” Sunny says. “How convenient.”
Phil leads Baker to the door. “You’ve made a very fine first impression, Baker Steele.”
Baker raises his eyebrows at Ayers. Your parents like me! Ayers whistles, and Winnie lifts her head, jumps off the bed, and joins Ayers on the couch.
“We must arrange a dinner with your mom and brother,” Sunny says. “A family affair! But we can’t do it tonight because we’re taking Freddy and Michael out.”
“To the beach bar at Caneel,” Phil says. “Supposedly, they have decent sushi.”
“We spent nine months traveling through Japan in the early aughts,” Sunny says. “And do you want to know where we found the best sushi?”
“Gate thirty-five at Narita Airport,” Phil says. “The tuna special. I dream about it.”
Baker is still trying to figure out who “Freddy and Michael” are. Friends of theirs? A gay couple? Then he remembers that Ayers is Freddy. But who’s Michael? “Who’s Michael?” he asks.
“Mick,” Phil says. “We’re taking out Ayers and Mick.”
“‘Mick’ makes him sound like an Irish hoodlum or a horny rock star,” Sunny says. “I prefer to call him by his given name.”
Ayers rubs Winnie’s head. Is she even listening to this conversation?
“You’re taking out Ayers and Mick?” Baker says.
“It’s been so long since we’ve seen him,” Sunny says.
Somehow, Baker makes it through the door, saying graciously, Enjoy the sushi, hope it’s decent, come see me in the morning, we’ll look at one-bedrooms and two-bedrooms, nice to meet you, all righty, will do, yep, yep, yep, bye-bye. And then, mercifully, Phil closes the door.
Taking out Ayers and Mick?
Baker heads across the street, limping like he has an old sports injury—Mick is the old sports injury, the one Baker can’t seem to recover from—until he’s at his front door and can safely disappear into what should now be known as the Heartbroken Hibiscus. Huck
He calls Agent Vasco to tell her about the diaries.
“Have you read them?” she asks.
“Yes,” he says.
“Are they going to give me what I need?”
They better, Huck thinks. Because I sacrificed my relationship with Irene for them. “Only you would know,” Huck says. He’s on his deck, smoking. He’s been going through half a pack a day since Irene moved out. “Should I mail them to you or are you on the island?”
“We’re on the island today,” Vasco says. “Can I swing by around eleven?”
“I have a charter,” Huck says. “I’ll leave them on the mail table just inside my front door. You remember where I live? Up Jacob’s Ladder?”
“You don’t lock up?”
“I have nothing to steal,” Huck says.
“Fine, we’ll be by,” Vasco says. She pauses. “Thank you for calling me.”
“I want to cooperate,” Huck says. “Can you tell me what’s up with Douglas and Paulette Vickers?”
“In the vault?” Vasco says.
“Of course.”
“We offered them a deal if they gave us something tangible on Croft, but they refused, insisted he
